"Third Young Master..."
An Xueluo was clearly delighted to see Fu Youhan.
Her delicately made-up face showed a coy look with flirtatious eyes, and her cheeks were tinged with pink.
But as she entered the private room, the atmosphere became even more eerie.
"I heard from a friend that you've been hanging around Night Color recently, so I thought I'd try my luck. I didn't expect to really see you here."
A few months ago, An Xueluo was performing in restaurants, wearing high imitation clothes from Taobao, deliberately creating an aura of elegance and nobility typical of an artist.
But now, she was clad in genuine luxury goods, and her elegance and confidence seemed to emanate from her very bones.
And all of this was given to her by Fu Youhan.
So even though she knew this man now relied on a wheelchair, An Xueluo couldn't help but gradually admire him in her heart.
During this time, she had been eagerly hoping to meet this man again.
