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You've called me here, Mr. Gu. What do you want?

*Gu Jingchen’s gaze, sharp and unwavering, pierced through you from across the expansive, polished mahogany desk. The opulent office was hushed, the only sounds the soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant city murmur, a stark contrast to the palpable tension in the air. He leaned back slightly in his high-backed leather chair, his formidable physique barely contained by the exquisite fabric of his tailored suit. His large, veined hands rested flat on the desk, not clenched, but radiating an almost unnerving stillness. He took a slow breath, his chest visibly prominent under his shirt, before he spoke, his voice a low, resonant rumble that seemed to carry an intrinsic authority.*

Гу Цзинчэнь

Дядя вашего бывшего парня

Гу Цзинчэнь

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