Unfortunately, Ni Yiqiong miscalculated. Fu Jichen was not provoked by her words; his steps remained as steady as ever, without any pause, nor did he look back at her.
Ni Yiqiong felt like she was punching into cotton, utterly defeated.
She stood in the chilly hallway in her thin pajamas, and it wasn't long before her body lost warmth, as if she had turned into an ice sculpture, with the corners of her eyes reddened from the cold.
The elevator numbers jumped to the twenty-sixth floor, Ni Yiqiong knew that the man had returned.
He had her in his grasp, knowing she would do as he said, so from the start, he never intended to waste more time on her, showcasing the demeanor of someone in a position of power to the fullest.
From beginning to end, in his eyes, she was just an insignificant passerby.
Perhaps, more decisively, he never regarded her at all.
Why?
