Shao moqian didn't get his cell phone. In the end, after a Herculean effort and almost breaking his legs, he finally found a newspaper stand with a public phone on the roadside.
In this day and age, everyone had a cell phone. Who needed a public phone? As such, the public phones along the road were either dismantled or abandoned.
Shao moqian gave Chi zuxu a call.
He leaned lazily on the newsstand, patiently waiting for the man on the other end of the phone to answer the call. The warm yellow sunset shone through the air and directly on his handsome face. The dejection he had just had had long disappeared quietly, leaving only a calm and indifferent expression.
After two rings, Chi zuxu picked up the call.
"Hello, who's this?"
Chi zuxu would never reject an unfamiliar number because his personal number was not easily known to strangers. Hence, those who knew his number were probably not strangers unless they had dialed the wrong number.
"It's me," he said.
