Lin Qingyi instinctively grabbed Tang Zhiwei’s wrist, wanting to pull him away.
The appearance of Song Julan was like a stone thrown into a calm lake, stirring an instinctive sense of unease within her. Almost every time Song Julan was present, something unpleasant was bound to happen.
"Song Qingyi," Song Julan’s voice came from behind, cold as ice. "Was it your doing—what happened to Xia Beiji?"
Chapter 47