She smiled faintly, walked past Chunyu Yan, and sat down at the prepared seat.
"Then I won't keep the Princely Heir for dinner. You should go back early, sort out the account books, and we can reconcile them tomorrow."
Hmph!
Without mentioning the account books, Chunyu Yan wasn't that angry.
But once they were mentioned, he remembered.
He had covertly taken advantage of Feng Twelve, giving her so many benefits. This heartless thing, after reviewing the account books, not a single word of thanks was expected, but she didn't even mention it.
All his kindness had been fed to the dogs.
"Fine," Chunyu Yan, sashaying in his flowing robe, replied, his laughter extremely pleasant—as no one could discern the expression beneath his mask.
"Then, Feng Twelve, you'd better be ready."
Feng Yun hummed in acknowledgment, "You may take your leave."
Chunyu Yan was frustrated.
Where was the logic in dismissing a guest like this?
Hmph!
