Her complexion was so pale that there was not a trace of color, and her voice was so weak that when she called his name, it was as if she was clinging to a piece of driftwood, vulnerable enough that she could only hold on to him.
But Mo Shiqian did not look at her.
Aside from this text message from the bank, there was another unread message.
Chi Huan had not marked it.
["Transaction is complete, I've asked my secretary to transfer the money to you. It will take the bank a little time to process, but once it's done, you can check your account. Miss Chi, you've lived longer than I have, but I hope you will keep your word."]
The man's handsome face seemed to turn icy, as if it were about to sprout frost.
Beyond that message, there were hardly any other texts of value.
He opened his contacts, scrolling down.
While the calls were not extremely frequent, there would be twice a day, every other day, or every few days. Looking further back, there were even months without contact.
