Her little face was flushed, her eyes were sparkling, and her pink lips were slightly swollen from his kisses. His domineering masculine scent lingered between her lips and teeth.
"You still dare to say you don't miss me?"
Mu Nanxun's tone was full of warning.
His dark eyes were filled with a desire that hadn't yet faded.
Yi glanced around sheepishly and lowered her voice, "The old shaman is still here, we need to make sure he hears us, hears us..."
"What did you hear, hmm?" Mu Nanxun asked, still wanting more.
The lively and charming Yi Yi was adorable, but her shy and alluring side made his heart melt instantly. He was completely bewitched, utterly captivated by this little devil. Now, even if Yi Yi asked him to die immediately, he would do so without hesitation.
Her face turned completely red.
What else could you hear? Of course, it was the sound of her passionate and intimate kiss with Mu Nanxun.
Her ears still burned when she thought about what had just happened.
This guy, he just recovered from a serious injury, yet he has so much energy.
"Um..." Yi Yi felt that if she didn't change the subject, who knew what kind of vulgar things he would say or do.
When are we going back?
go back……
This word caused Mu Nanxun, whose eyes had been smiling, to suddenly freeze into a thick layer of ice.
He had just heard Yi Yi talk about the current situation of the Mu family.
The old man and Mu Wenya were both placed under house arrest. The servants and men in black in the villa were also taken into custody.
It's probably not just that...
Qin Lang meticulously orchestrated a scene on the day of his engagement to Yi Yi, leading him to his current predicament. His purpose was not merely imprisonment.
The Mu family's assets, everything in the Mu Group, including Mu Wenya herself, are probably Qin Lang and his group's real target.
"We'll go back immediately," Mu Nanxun said in a deep voice, his hawk-like eyes fixed on the ground.
Philadelphia, maple-lined waterfront.
The weather was unusually fine, and the old man hadn't gone out for quite some time. Right now, he sat upright by the window, which was made of fine sandalwood and carved with intricate and completely different patterns.
Before me was a rosewood desk, upon which several sheets of Xuan paper were neatly arranged, and a delicate calligraphy brush rested on the inkstone. On the Xuan paper were several large, elegant characters: "A calm mind brings peace."
The writing wasn't completely dry yet; it looked like it had been written not long ago.
After a moment, the old man picked up the brush again, examined it for a while, and a hint of worry appeared in his eyes.
This is a Hanyun calligraphy brush, made from high-quality long sheep wool, with a bright red wooden handle and a rare white ox horn for the wrist and tip. It takes a full year to make just one of these small brushes.
He still remembered that this pen was a birthday gift from Mu Nanxun three years ago when he turned 60.
I remember when Mu Nanxun gave him this congratulatory gift, he pretended to be disgusted and teased him, saying that this thing was neither edible nor drinkable, and was only for showing off his refined taste.
The money is still there, but...
"Squeak—"
The door opened from the outside, and the sound of footsteps grew closer.
The old man frowned slightly, slowly placing the brush on the brush holder and rolling up the Xuan paper into a scroll. From beginning to end, he seemed oblivious to the noise outside the door and the increasingly close footsteps.
The footsteps stopped behind him. Without turning his head, the old man said in a deep voice, "The food is here, go out."
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