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... d to tend to Gu Qingcheng’s needs.

Though unfamiliar with the Z-language, she gleaned insights from the interactions between Madam and Sir.

Presently, Huo Sicheng wore a mask of stoicism. His long, narrow eyes simmered with concealed fury, like dark abysses churning with unspoken rage, yet their surface remained as placid as tranquil waters—devoid of any emotion.

Gu Qingcheng harbored no fear of Huo Sicheng’s demeanor.

Unperturbed, she continued to dine without a ...

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