Yin Shuhui swallowed a mouthful of saliva with difficulty, unable to speak. She turned around and looked at Sang Qianqian.
The chopsticks in Sang Qianqian's hands fell onto the dining table. She tried her best to remain calm, but her heart was already in turmoil.
Shen Hanyu's pitch-black eyes fell on her. His gaze was like a dark and dense net, locking her tightly, making her feel uncomfortable and unable to escape.
He walked step by step to the dining table and gritted his teeth as he said in a hoarse voice, "So you really were here."
He was quite drunk last night. Although he only went upstairs to look for her instinctively, he had neglected many details.
When he woke up in the morning, he recalled what he had seen in the room with the lights on when he went upstairs yesterday. For example, the steaming cups. Recalling those, Shen Hanyu felt that something was wrong.