It was one thing for Lin Xinran and Li Yihan to sit in the back. Why was Lu Huiqing there too?!
The three seemed to have agreed to sit in one row. To Li Yihan’s right was a young man with exquisitely refined features.
The reporters’ lenses unconsciously pointed toward him.
“You’re photographing someone that irrelevant?”
“Who says I’m photographing that nobody? I’m obviously photographing…” Lu Huiqing!
Lu Huiqing sat on Yue Han’s right. If they photographed Lu Huiqing, Yue Han was inevitably going to appear in frame.
The scene froze, like a sudden storm catching everyone unprepared. Slowly, every lens shifted toward the same direction.
The dim lighting lasted only two seconds. Then fierce white light poured down like a waterfall, and the only sound left was the endless clicking of shutters.
A sharply sculpted face, dark deep-set eyes hiding a fierce light.
Beneath the magnificent white glare, Lan Che sat quietly in the seat in front of Lu Huiqing, facing forward. His side profile was flawless.
Yue Han tightened his fingers around the room key in his pocket. Sweat gathered in his palm.
“Brother Che, sit farther forward. You can’t see shit from back here.”
The reporters had fought through a thousand obstacles to claim prime positions in front, only for this old ancestor to suddenly choose the far reaches of nowhere.
If venue control hadn’t stopped them in time, the whole place would have collapsed into chaos.
Lan Che tilted his head by the slightest degree. The upturned corners of his eyes, carrying wind and snow, seemed to glance toward Yue Han sitting upright behind him.
He said, “The air is better here.”