Du Muhan shot her a glance, and it was obvious he was a little displeased. "I'm only interested in human corpses."
"You seem to like them more than you like humans." At least he treated them better than he treated her.
At that moment, Su Qiao suddenly felt a little unbalanced.
"They're cute, loyal, and they don't lie. They won't..." Du Muhan paused, seemingly realizing that it was inappropriate to say such things to her.
"Go sit on the sofa for a while. I'll pour you some water, though I only have plain water here."
"Whatever." Su Qiao did not go sit on the sofa. Instead, she rose and began looking over the spacious living room, which was more than forty square meters.
Italian-style ceiling, marble coffee table, gray-and-white marble floor tiles, leather sofa, television, TV cabinet, standing air conditioner, an openwork divider lined with books, a black-and-white dining table, white walls...
The decor was simple, just like the man himself. There were no unnecessary flourishes, and the whole place gave off a cold, lonely air.
Su Qiao walked over to the openwork divider and slowly scanned the books arranged neatly on it.
Most people would put beautiful, tasteful ornaments in a place like this. He, on the other hand, had gone and used it to display books.
As if remembering something, she suddenly turned around and looked at the man, who was holding a glass of water. "By the way, you seemed to hate me before?"
Du Muhan's expression paused for a moment. He handed her the glass and said frankly, "I hate people who are born with everything."
Su Qiao instantly found the water in her mouth bland and tasteless.
So that was why?
She was seriously being wronged here.
On the surface, her original body seemed to