Not far from the Song Residence, Song Qingge sat at a window-side table inside a café, wearing sunglasses. Soon, the bell at the door tinkled as a tall and majestic man hurried in.
He scanned the café and made a beeline for Song Qingge, removing his sunglasses and sitting down opposite her.
Song Qingge took a sip of her coffee and eyed the man across from her, "I hate people who are late the most. If this happens again, I won't wait."
Leng Yanbo laughed coldly. Next time? If he succeeded this time, he would never need Song Qingge for the rest of his life. He slid a light green bottle across to her, "Tonight, find a way to get Anjing to take this medicine. You won't be needed for the rest."
Song Qingge picked up the bottle, her cardamom-hued fingernails red as fierce ghosts. She examined the bottle then placed it in her handbag, "Second Young Master Leng, I wish you a smooth victory."
