Her smiling face dazzled him, and his cold, thin lips gently curved into a faint smile: "Consider it a meeting gift for Miss Qiao."
"That's very thoughtful of you, sir."
Qiao Mo smiled, withdrew her gaze, glanced at Wang Zhi on the ground, brushed past Fu Nancheng without the slightest bit of reluctance.
He watched her back, his gaze deepened with intensity.
Zhuo Lin quietly observed his boss's profile; when his sharp gaze swept over, he immediately bowed his head, not daring to make a sound.
Fu Nancheng strode away, lost in thought.
Zhuo Lin let out a sigh of relief, sweat pouring down his forehead, but he felt… it seemed his boss had… come back to life somehow.
...
Two hours later, Fu Nancheng stood in front of the office's floor-to-ceiling window, gazing into the distance at Jiang City.
On the deep brown desk behind him, lay a file on Qiao Monian.
Monian, huh?
Not missing anymore… not missing whom?
