If Yang Rou normally seems like a placid lake, an ancient well without ripples, rational to the point of showing no emotional change,
the Yang Rou in the elevator earlier was like an erupting volcano, vigorously spewing her inner energy outward.
Now, Yang Rou is like a bubbling brook in a mountain ravine,
with a hint of liveliness, yet still appearing somewhat evasive.
In any case, she was different from her usual self.
It was unclear what had happened to Yang Rou, but at least she didn't seem as angry as before.
So, Chen Yan didn't pay much attention to that and instead brought up business, "Sister Rou, you said last night you were going to help me pick out some dirt on Zhao Qingtian."
"So, I wanted to talk to you about that."
Hatred is indeed an eternal cure-all.
Yang Rou, who had been a bit flustered upon seeing Chen Yan, immediately gained strength and a firm gaze at the mention of "Zhao Qingtian's" name.
