"I understand," Song Congbo replied. "Miss Wu Yue, we will keep you informed as soon as possible."
"OK."
Not far away, Yan Chiyu had just put down his phone and looked over.
As Song Congbo descended the elevator on this floor, he encountered a group of about eight or nine men. They politely made way for him, as if they were lining up to let him pass. Everyone's expression was normal, without any menacing airs, yet Song Congbo still felt uneasy.
As he approached the elevator, he inadvertently caught a glimpse of a gun peeking out of someone's pocket, and his legs went weak with fright.
As the elevator doors closed, he watched the group walk towards Wu Yue and the others. Song Congbo's heart skipped a beat, and he suddenly blocked the closing elevator doors and rushed out.
He was about to shout something when he saw the group of people bowing respectfully to Yan Chiyu.
Song Congbo's legs went even weaker.
It turns out that not only will he get his head smashed by Miss Wu Yue, but he will also be executed on the spot by Mr. Yan Chiyu...
Shivering.jpg
Song Congbo silently retreated back into the elevator.
Looking at his own body, which was vaguely visible, Song Congbo thought, "Be grateful, be grateful that you just made the right decision, otherwise you would be the lid of a trash can right now!"
He patted his chest, still shaken, then seemed to remember something.
Could those be bodyguards hired by Mr. Yan?
It should be.
After comforting himself like this, Song Congbo's pale face gradually returned to normal, and his heart, which had been pounding wildly like when he saw his beloved, slowly calmed down.
Song Congbo was in a hurry to get back to the company to handle some matters, and his steps downstairs were quite hurried.
Fortunately, he had a mask in his pocket that could cover his face. Otherwise, given how frequently he appeared with Cheng Pingxi in various interviews, he would have been spotted by paparazzi lying in wait long ago.
"ah!"
In his haste, Song Congbo bumped into something, and the 1.8-meter-tall man was knocked to the ground, his legs bent as he sat down. Song Congbo was stunned for a moment, then immediately got up.
"Wait a moment!"
As the man who had bumped into him walked past, Song Congbo disregarded politeness and grabbed his arm. His bloodshot eyes were fixed on the man's dark green hair beneath the black fisherman's hat, and the same gold-rimmed glasses that hadn't changed in years. Song Congbo asked nervously and expectantly, "Are you... are you Mr. Cheng Xuanwu?"
As soon as he spoke, he noticed that his voice was trembling and even hoarse.
My hand was gently pushed away by a strong hand.
The man in the dark green coat slowly turned around. Three years had passed, and his face remained almost exactly the same, unchanged. Song Congbo was very excited. He was about to say something when the man spoke first.
Is he dead?
The man had a gentle face and calm eyes. But his words sent a chill down Song Congbo's spine. He took a half-step back in shock. "W-what? Mr. Xuanwu, why are you saying this… Weren't you very caring towards Xiaoxi back then? Why?"
"Life and death are the natural course of life, why be surprised?" The man adjusted his fisherman's hat, revealing handsome and dignified features. His dark eyes were deep and unfathomable, like a bottomless abyss. Looking at him like that, Song Congbo felt that this man's gaze was even more frightening than the gun he had just seen.
“Mr. Xuanwu, Xiaoxi has found his biological parents and has a new family. Now, his younger sister, Miss Wuyue, is taking care of him upstairs.”
Song Congbo, suppressing his trembling teeth, spoke tentatively while discreetly observing Cheng Xuanwu's expression.
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