Looking at the back of Jian Ran running away in a hurry, Qin Yue's eyes darkened slightly, and his slender fingertips subconsciously tapped on the table, as if planning something.

"Master." A woman who looked about forty or fifty years old knocked on the door and interrupted Qin Yue's thoughts.

Qin Yue looked up, his eyes were usually cold: "What's the matter?"