Ding Ming wiped the exhaust fumes and dust from his face. He seethed with resentment—resentment that transformed into a look of vicious hatred upon his face.
He thought that no one had seen the expression on his face, but he was wrong. Yan Huan had seen everything—his expressions, his feelings, and even his schemes.
Yan Huan got out her phone and sent a message to Lu Yi.
"Will you be coming home tonight?"
She did not have to wait long for Lu Yi's reply.
"I want to eat noodles tonight."
"Okay," was Yan Huan's reply.
"Yiyi, how about noodles for dinner?"
"Sure." Yi Ling was not a picky eater. She ate everything and anything—meat, vegetarian, vegan, whatever. "I'll buy extra noodles, you should invite Lei Qingyi over for dinner, too. We've been back in the city for so long now but we haven't had him over for dinner yet. I'm sure he's itching to eat your cooking."
