Song Yansheng's office, with its minimalist yet grand décor, inexplicably exudes a dignified presence amidst elegance.
Just like its owner, who simply sits there quietly, giving an unmistakable impression of distance that wards off idle approaches and compels attention.
This sense of distance is felt even by Song Qingyang, his own niece.
Yao Ziwan entered with two cups of tea, glanced at the two people inside, and without saying much, politely withdrew.
Song Yansheng took a sip of his tea, his graceful eyebrows slightly lowered, and his beautiful thin lips lightly pressed together. Without lifting his eyes, he spoke first.
He asked Song Qingyang, "You came to see me today—what's the matter?"
Song Qingyang averted her gaze, took a deep breath, and said, "There are two things I want to discuss with you, Second Uncle..."
Song Yansheng raised his eyes, arching a brow: "Two things? Alright, let's hear the first one!"
