Song Qiao's fingers at her side gradually clenched into a fist involuntarily, as feelings of annoyance slowly rose in her heart, yet she felt helpless.
Her anger turned to laughter as she looked Xi Mohan in the face, speaking coolly, "To go to such lengths for the sake of your good brother, Xi Mohan, to be honest, I am thoroughly impressed."
Xi Mohan remained calm and imposing, standing there with his tall and straight figure, his expression slightly obscure under the light, "If you insist on understanding it this way, then there's nothing I can do."
He was always loath to explain himself, nor did he like to elucidate the significance of his actions to others, and he certainly wouldn't take the initiative to explain to anyone.
What others think is their own business, not his.
