A chill slowly spread through Bai Fu Hall.
Yu Wenye swept a cold glance over them, his gaze stern yet showing no further anger or disappointment. He merely turned his head toward Shang Ruyi and said, "It's still a bit cold outside, let's go in first."
Shang Ruyi nodded.
The fickleness of human affection, the warmth and coldness of the world—she had seen it all after her father's death. Her heart was prepared, so she did not care that much. It was just that Yu Wenye was such a proud person; she had not expected that faced with all of this, he could remain so calm.
But when Yu Wenye reached out to take her hand and led her into the main hall, she realized—that was not quite so.
Yu Wenye's hand was as cold as ice.
He might not lose his temper; even if he truly were angry, given the upbringing of a noble son, it would be impossible for him to show it on his face. But that chill in his heart—nothing could hide it.
