C70 The Gentle Left Night

"Sir. . . "

"Zuo Yeh. " The man's voice rang out. His magnetic voice was like a cellist, pleasant to the ears.

"What? A chair? Sit where? " Ling Muyan did not expect this man to suddenly say such a thing that day.

When the man heard Ling Muyan's words, he suddenly laughed.

Ling Muyan found that when this man smiled, there were actually two dimples at the corner of his mouth