C92 Why should she be angry?

Murong Aotian leaned on the banister in the corner and smoked. The sunlight shone in and cast a long shadow in front of him. He seemed irritated, one hand loosening his tie, the other digging into his trouser pocket. Smoke curled up around him, and his face was faintly discernible. His cold aura also seemed to freeze to the bone.

Occasionally, golden-haired