"Goodbye."
After hanging up, the car returned to silence.
Ouyang Xianyue placed the phone aside casually, her gaze once again fixed on the flowing nightscape outside the window.
Her slender fingertips unconsciously brushed the cold window glass.
In the reflection cast by the light, a self-deprecating curve appeared on her lips.
Indeed, Jin Weixiao wasn't wrong.
I am indeed a hypocritical woman.
But so what?
...
Imperial City, Xiaoyun Road No. 8.
The lights were gentle, and the air was filled with a faint scent of pine wood fragrance.
Secretary Jin, wearing a loose white silk loungewear, had her brown hair casually clipped at the back of her head with a shark clip, revealing her smooth forehead and slender swan neck.
A pair of exquisite glasses perched on her nose, adding a touch of relaxed scholarly charm to her already beautiful face.
She sat barefoot, cross-legged on the soft sofa, quietly flipping through a German edition of "The Interpretation of Dreams."
