Local time nine at night, the Yan Emperor's private jet arrived at the international airport.
The night was becoming denser, and Shang Yu entered Li Qiao's suite with a body full of coldness.
The wind tonight was slightly cool, and as the door opened, a floor-length cape fluttered against his straight legs.
This was the first time Li Qiao saw Shang Yu in clothes other than a suit.
To be precise, it was a rare ink-colored cape over a pure black, perfectly tailored suit, lending him the air of the King of the Dark Night.
Handsome, and towering above all else.
The suite was lit with warm orange light, and Li Qiao leaned against the table, a trace of admiration flowing through her eyes.
She wasn't sure if it was an illusion, but Shang Yu, who had appeared in Aida State, seemed to carry an even colder and more ascetic aura than usual.
Li Qiao thought that it might be because he had his collar buttoned up all the way.
