Tall and slender, Yaen Chi squinted his eyes, carefully noticing those men around who were staring straight at Ye Wanting, their eyes filled with amazement.
His thin lips pursed tightly, and after a moment, he let out a low laugh:
"Grown up."
Ye Wanting could play the piano, and she was versed in various arts. Before her family's bankruptcy when she was young, she had learned everything and had a knack for it. Even though she hadn't touched a piano for many years, once her hands fell on the keys, the notes seemed to be carved into her bones, flowing smoothly like a gentle stream.
Nan Jiaojiao propped her face with one hand, pointing the screen at herself.
Her phone had a privacy screen protector.
Suddenly, a message popped up at the top. Nan Jiaojiao exited out, collected the big red envelope Yaen Chi sent, then moved the screen a bit to let him see.
A little bit.
Ye Wanting hadn't finished her piece when the camera suddenly shook and then pointed toward the ceiling.
