Bai Zihan casually strolled forward, the sound of his slow, mocking applause echoing louder than it had any right to.
He stopped a few steps away from the little standoff and tilted his head, wearing that ever-so-punchable smirk of his.
"Well now," Bai Zihan said, eyes locked on Mo Yichen.
"This is the first time I've seen someone so confidently threaten a member of the Bai Clan."
He chuckled—low and sharp.
"You're quite brave. Or maybe just stupid?"
Mo Yichen narrowed his eyes in anger.
Not only had he been rejected by Bai Xinyue, now some smug bastard was rubbing salt in the wound.
Of course he was about to snap.
But before he could even speak, one of his lackeys tugged on his sleeve and whispered frantically,
"Young Master, that's Bai Zihan… the heir of the Bai Clan."
Mo Yichen blinked.
"What?"
He looked from his lackey to the smirking Bai Zihan. Now that it was mentioned, yeah—he did recognize the face.
