Buhui stood by the sink, absentmindedly wiping the dishes with a cloth. A ring of fine white bubbles had formed around the dishes, and she perked up her ears to listen to the sounds outside.
There was no sound in the living room, except for those two scorching gazes burning into her back. That person was almost observing her silently, and she felt like a little rabbit who had accidentally strayed into a wolf's den, being tightly watched by him.
She blinked, becoming more alert, picked up a dish and rinsed it under the faucet. Soon after, the dishes were clean. She took off her apron and walked out of the kitchen, only to find the man who had been staring at her earlier had disappeared, leaving only a suit draped over the back of the sofa, indicating he hadn't left.
Buhui looked around but did not see Mo Beichen. She turned and walked toward the study at the end. The door to the study was ajar, and low talking could be heard from within, as if on a phone call.
