Yu Linglong's heart was filled with reluctant acceptance.
Since she had acquired this face, whenever she made an appearance, Feng Yexuan's gaze would inevitably fall upon her.
Even after Xiaoyao, that despicable woman, came into the picture and his attentions were largely diverted,
he would still spare extra glances for her.
Now, even though he knew she was not Chu Qianli, when he saw her, even if it was with hatred, he should at least have sufficient concern.
Hatred is a form of care, is it not?
Why then, upon seeing her again, was there not a trace of emotion?
No love, no hatred, his gaze as impassive as still water, with no ripples to disturb its surface.
How could he be like this?
Feng Qihe couldn't help but take a few more glances at Feng Yexuan; his composure was unexpected.
Knowing that the woman was not the real Chu Qianli, Feng Yexuan should be eager to ask her where the real Chu Qianli was?
Why was he so calm?