The car was driving on the highway. Inside, Ruan Zeyan picked up a work phone call and his face had returned to its usual measured coldness. The person on the other end of the call spoke extremely carefully, because Ruan Zeyan was always dead serious when it came to work.
Ling Tianya looked at his hand that was holding the phone. Wide palm with long slender fingers. It was a powerful hand, a hand that could determine life or death.
