Seeing that impeccably dressed figure in a suit, Qiao Mo was slightly stunned, somewhat lost.
How could it be such a coincidence...
Could the party he mentioned be this one?
Fu Nancheng held a wine glass in one hand, squinting slightly as he examined the woman in front of him.
She was wearing a silver-white long dress, her lips were lightly touched with red, her hair was lightly tied, revealing a snow-white, slender jade neck.
The marks he left were almost gone, leaving only a few faint traces that were not obvious.
His gaze swept over the hand she held with Han Zirui, his eyes narrowed slightly, and a hint of coldness flashed in his eyes.
Qiao Mo instinctively let go of Han Zirui's hand, avoiding his gaze with some unease.
"Uncle Liu, I am Han Zirui. My father should have mentioned me to you. I really have something to ask of you today," Han Zirui spoke gently and politely.
