In the Mercedes-Benz business vehicle, Leng Youchen sat in the rear seat dealing with documents. His phone rang, and he glanced at the caller ID with an aloof expression and chose to ignore it.
Li Dong, who was sitting in the front row, had sensed the simmering anger emanating from Leng Youchen when he picked him up in the morning, probably still affected by the photos. His eyes were bloodshot, as he hadn't slept all night.
At that moment, the phone kept ringing. He looked in the rearview mirror, and seeing that Third Young Master had no intention of answering, he didn't dare to rush him.
The phone rang three times in succession, and then finally fell silent. The atmosphere in the car grew even more suffocating.
The corners of Leng Youchen's lips curved up slightly with a hint of sarcasm. Her patience with coaxing him lasted less than three minutes. Unconsciously, he thought of those two pictures again, his demeanor becoming frighteningly grim.
