His tone was very sincere and genuine.
"Do you admire me as I am, or is it because my husband is Jun Mochan?" Ye Ranran did not immediately accept the olive branch he just handed her.
Che Hao gave a bitter smile, "Has anyone ever told you that you are actually quite clever?"
Seemingly innocent, but actually seeing everything very clearly.
"Yes, my husband tells me I am clever."
It’s Jun Mochan again. Eight out of her ten sentences are about Jun Mochan. Che Hao didn’t want to hear any more, "I admit, part of it is because of him."
To make friends, we first need to have common interests, be able to converse about them.
Ye Ranran had both, and also, it was of no use for him to be her enemy.
Since that’s the case, why not become friends? With her help, he could reach greater heights and farther distances.
Isn’t this a win-win situation?
"I like your honesty. If you can maintain this mindset when being friends with me, I think we could be very good friends."
"As a friend, and a future good friend, I think I need to warn you to be careful of that woman. Don’t be fooled." Che Hao leaned closer to her and whispered in her ear so that only the two of them could hear.
Media outlets quickly captured this scene and sent the photos to Jun Mochan’s inbox.
Seeing the pictures, Jun Mochan’s gaze slightly narrowed.
"Ah Chuan." Jun Mochan made an internal call.
"Mr. President." Ah Chuan hurried in.
"Fire the journalist who took these pictures; never hire him again. Also inform other media outlets in the city not to hire him for the next three years."
"Yes." After Ah Chuan glanced at the pictures and identified the journalist, he was about to execute the orders.
"Oh right, remember to retrieve the negatives."
Unaware of this turn of events, Ye Ranran just came out of the restroom, washing her hands at the sink.
Her slender and proportional fingers, flawlessly white, resembled a perfectly crafted piece of art. They were absolutely stunning.
Compared to hers, Qin Fang’s hands didn’t even seem like a woman’s. Just out of the restroom, she hesitantly stood behind Ye Ranran.
"Are you afraid of me?" Ye Ranran asked without turning around.
"Of course not." Qin Fang turned on the faucet.
After washing her hands, Ye Ranran turned off the water, took out a hand towel, and dried her hands: "Why trouble yourself?"
It was an abrupt question, but Qin Fang thought she was being mocked: "You think I wanted this? I’m not as fortunate as you, able to marry a perfect husband. I can only rely on myself. Is there something wrong with that?"
"Relying on yourself is fine. But being someone’s mistress and climbing into someone’s bed, this is your so-called self-reliance? It’s quite laughable."
Qin Fang shouted in anger: "What do you know? You have everything you want, how could you understand the misery of us bottom-rung people?"
"Think what you will. Your face and body belong to you. If you do not value them, no one else can do anything about it." Ye Ranran wiped her hands dry.
She threw the towel into the trash bin and walked away.
She did feel some sympathy for Qin Fang. She could also relate to her situation. But that bit of sympathy dispersed after their conversation just now.
Those pitiful are often detestable.
Coming out of the restroom, Che Hao was waiting for her outside. The handsome man was leaning against the wall, the dim light casting shadows on him.
Looking like a prince straight out of a fairytale book.