So, facing Yu Wei's invitation this time, he held a cigarette in his mouth, looked at Yu Wei deeply for a long time, and sat opposite her.
Only a glass of water was in front of Yu Wei.
It didn't quite match her usual preference for Western culture and drinking coffee.
Liang Yichao glanced and didn't think much of it.
Yu Wei seemed to look thinner than before, and there was a rather strong perfume scent on her, which Liang Yichao assumed Pei Yongyou liked, so he didn't think much about it.
Flicking the ash, he waited for Yu Wei to speak.
In the Baroque-style decorated environment, the air felt quiet yet winding, heavy with a pain that made the heart ache.
Seeing Liang Yichao in this manner, Yu Wei restrained herself for a long time, then slowly said, "Why have you been frequently taking my son to your house these days?"
For an instant, Liang Yichao felt as if his face had been struck with so many slaps.
