Yuan Qiran returned to Su Li's bedroom with a somber air.
The woman who had angered him was buried in a pile of clothes, and the room was filled with clothes she had tossed out.
"Su Li..." Yuan Qiran called out in a suppressed voice.
If his familiar secretary were here, they'd know their boss was already very angry and not to be trifled with lightly.
The original host, who had once meticulously studied her husband's every word and deed, could have discerned it, and naturally, Su Li caught onto it as well but merely glanced at him indifferently and nonchalantly replied, "Wait a bit, okay?"
Having said that, she continued her struggle within the pile of clothes, and after great effort, she chose a dress to her satisfaction and took the brand-new skirt into the dressing room.
Yuan Qiran felt like a duck whose neck had been squeezed, a surge of anger suddenly without an outlet, caught in his throat and making him uncomfortable.
