"I'm sure they are fine. Let's wait a while more," comforted Zhou Zizhe. Deep inside, he was worried as well. Why wasn't Yan Huan and Song Xihua here by this time?
Su Muran curled her lips in boredom by the side.
They won't be coming. Heh, that is, unless the dead can walk.
"Sorry for being late."
Yan Huan walked in, her face radiating with good health. Moreover, there was something unspeakable in her air, a quality between innocence and maturity.
At that moment, she was smiling, at Su Muran.
Su Muran's face went still. Her hands tightened, her nails digging into her flesh.
"It's been a while, Ms. Su. Thanks for taking care of us."
Yan Huan walked forward, the icy Song Xihua behind her. Song Xihua walked to Su Muran and stared at her silently.
Nobody expected it when he whipped his hand across Su Muran's face. Pa!
Fang Ying gaped. A hand reached out and covered her mouth. "Don't let the flies fly in."
