The ink-holding slender fingers paused suddenly for a second.
Xing Chen lifted his gaze from the planning proposal for the first-phase real estate development in the southern city's garden district.
Instinctively glancing towards the door, Xing Chen did not speak.
Thinking that perhaps some servant had accidentally knocked something over.
But he had previously instructed that after nightfall, no servants were needed in the building.
Who could it be? So blatantly breaking the rule he set!
Still pondering this question, soon there was another burst of exasperated shouting from downstairs, "Prince! Stop messing around! Quick, quick, my dumplings are almost cooked!"
This is... Ran Xiangsi?
She is downstairs, boiling dumplings?
No wonder, so late at night, apart from her, could there really be anyone else daring to make such noise downstairs?
