Ning Guiwan almost reflexively stepped back two paces, her reluctance to get close to the man before her plain to see.
Quan Yu's eyes darkened. Whether it was because he was backlit or not, his deep brown pupils seemed to turn pitch black. Though shaped like amorous peach blossoms, his eyes conveyed a chilling indifference that stirred no emotion in others.
Under his gaze, Ning Guiwan felt a chill seep through her. She pursed her lips, I should just turn around and leave, she thought—
"Uncle..."
But Quan Xiangru's voice reached her first from behind. Ning Guiwan turned. Quan Xiangru stood about five meters away with Ning Qinghan behind him, both holding gifts. Ning Qinghan's face showed a mixture of resentment and fear due to Quan Yu's presence; she looked angry but dared not voice it.
