Jiang Yang's thin lips were tightly pressed together as he stood up and walked to the French window. The rain outside had lessened a bit, and the street lamps were veiled by a layer of mist. He said coldly, "Yan Nanfei is already asleep. If you have something to say to her, say it tomorrow."
"Are you Jiang Yang?" The certainty in his tone confirmed it was him.
Jiang Yang furrowed his brows, "I am."
"Has my wife been with Yan Nanfei?" asked Leng Youchen. In Beicheng, Wei Anning had only one friend, Yan Nanfei. If she didn't return home at night, it was highly likely that she was with Yan Nanfei.
"No, Yan Nanfei has been back since the afternoon. Is there anything else, Third Young Master Leng?" Jiang Yang glanced at Wei Anning lying on the bed, feeling a selfish urge not to let Leng Youchen take her away.
Leng Youchen pursed his lips, "Sorry for the disturbance."
