But if Sheng Jianan were to be rendered speechless by Tang Yanqi, then he wouldn't be Sheng Jianan.
Sheng Jianan bent down and pinched Tang Yanqi's chin, a cold sneer on his lips: "Tang Yanqi, are you sleeping on such a small sofa to show me that I'm mistreating you? Heh, nice calculation."
Tang Yanqi frowned and forcefully pulled her chin out of Sheng Jianan's hand. She had figured it out; Young Master Sheng was a conspiracy theorist with a persecution complex.
She met Sheng Jianan's gaze without arrogance or submission: "Mr. Sheng is overthinking. I'm just following our agreement not to climb into your bed, and besides, you probably couldn't handle sleeping here."
Sheng Jianan narrowed his eyes. She really knew how to use his words against him.
