Seeing Mu Qian come out, the night-shift maids all changed complexion sharply, "Young Master."
Mu Qian walked past them, got into the Bugatti that a security guard had just fetched from the garage, and in the blink of an eye, a man dressed in black appeared next to the flamboyant sports car, standing silently like a ghost.
The car took a long time to start.
The maids, each of them shrinking their necks, didn't dare to breathe a sigh, silently praying that the young master hadn't heard their conversation. Time crawled like a snail carrying a shell, and cold sweat gradually began to form on their backs.
Finally, after much anticipation, the sound of the engine starting came. Just as the maids were secretly heaving a sigh of relief, the man's icy voice rose in the night, "Tomorrow morning, I don't want to see these women in my sight again."
The man in black nodded respectfully, neither servile nor overbearing, "Yes, Master Mu."
