The other end of the phone was silent.
Qiao Dongyang did not respond.
The cold wind in the desert howled towards the poplars, lifting Chi Yue's long hair. She tried several times to restrain it, but eventually she conceded to nature, allowing it to fly about haphazardly, just like her mood at that moment—
Restless.
Anxious.
Chi Yue figured Qiao Dongyang wasn't someone to make idle chit-chat over the phone.
What he wanted to say must be related to Wang Xueya's incident.
But she couldn't be certain if Qiao Dongyang's decision was to leave or to stay.
Moreover, her words may sound bold, but her heart lacked confidence—the other party represented capital, while she was nothing.
Would the production team set this precedent?
And why did Mr. Qiao speak to her in a provocative tone with such ambiguous words?
"Chi Yue."
Qiao Dongyang called her by her full name.
Just as she had blurted out moments before.
Chi Yue pursed her lips, "Go ahead. I'm listening."
