Ex-Husband CEO, Stop Messing Around!
Chapter 22: Whose Is This?

Chapter 22: Chapter 22: Whose Is This?

Wen Nuan’s back suddenly went cold: "You’re not Leng Yan’s friend, you are..."

Her mind was somewhat dizzy, pointing a trembling finger at him.

How could it be possible?

This result left her momentarily unable to accept it, staring at him blankly: "Who exactly are you?"

She was afraid to hear those two words.

Leng Yan...

He shouldn’t be Leng Yan. Leng Yan was so bad, someone she disliked, he couldn’t be Leng Yan.

"You’ve finally gotten a bit smarter."

Seeing her embarrassed look, a mocking smile appeared on his lips: "I am indeed Leng Yan. What, don’t recognize your husband?"

The color quickly drained from Wen Nuan’s face, coldness enveloping her entire body. She stared at Leng Yan, hoping desperately that what he said was just a joke.

Unfortunately...

Leng Yan turned his head, looking at her shocked expression, his anger surging. His slender fingers gripped her chin, his eyes emitting a cold light: "Surprised? Attempted to covet your husband’s friend, yet unaware that person is your husband, is that right? It seems you’re really not well-behaved."

"Are you really Leng Yan?" Nuannuan looked at the man ridiculing her with a mix of emotions. She didn’t expect the man she had loved for three years to be her husband, and he even told her he didn’t recognize her.

He also accused her of wanting to cheat on him. Heaven knows, except for him, no other man had occupied her heart in the past three years.

"Wen Nuan!"

Seeing her remain silent, he called out coldly, the shirt blowing in the wind as if provoking him. He couldn’t help but yank it down, throwing it along with the hanger at her: "Whose man does this belong to?"

His icy eyes and sudden action made Wen Nuan’s shoulders flinch. She instinctively explained: "Today I went shopping and accidentally spilled ice cream on someone’s shirt, so I took it back to wash."

"Is that so?"

Leng Yan squinted his eyes, the suspicion on his handsome face clearly revealing his disbelief in her words: "It’s just a shirt, you could have bought him a new one, why bother bringing it back to wash? Who was that person?"

He could tell this shirt was definitely not worn by an ordinary person. If it truly was someone from the upper class of N City, just say the name, and he would know who it was.

His distrust caused a tinge of pain in her heart. Why did the man she liked have to look at her with such eyes?

For three years, she often thought of this face, yet she never expected that when they met again, it would be under this identity.

"Wen Nuan!"

Once again, he called her name, his slender fingers gripping her chin tightly: "I’m asking you a question, what are you thinking about? Thinking about that man?"

Wen Nuan felt a sharp pain in her chin, impatiently tilting her head to avoid his fingers. She mocked silently: If I said I was thinking about you, would you believe it?

"I don’t know him, nor do I know his name. This shirt is a limited edition, I cannot buy an identical one. Even if I could, the price is beyond my means."

She frowned slightly, taking a breath and speaking blandly, not willing to continue the discussion. She was telling the truth, and if he didn’t believe her, so be it.

She wanted some quiet, her mind was a mess.

Why was Leng Yan him? Why had he become so bad?

Three years ago, when she met him, though he appeared gloomy and cold to others, he had earnestly helped her. So she always believed he would be a good person. She fell in love at first sight, yearning to be with him, to become an enviable couple.

Prince Charming = Husband.

What a delightful equation!

Now, she had gotten this equation. But instead of joy, she felt no happiness...

"Don’t know?" He didn’t believe it!

This infatuated woman probably intentionally dirtied the man’s shirt and took it back to wash as an excuse for meeting him again.

Wen Nuan closed her eyes, forcing the image of him from three years ago out of her mind.

"I reiterate, I’m telling the truth. But if you don’t believe me, there’s nothing I can do."

The shirt was about eighty percent dry already, and a little more airing would make it fine. As she said this, she wanted to hang the shirt up again.

As soon as she raised her arm, her hand suddenly felt empty, the shirt was snatched away by him. When Wen Nuan reached out to grab it, the shirt had already been flung out the window by his arm.