Fu Zining received the notice that they had gotten their hands on the person and asked her about her next move.
She lounged on the upscale leather sofa, one hand resting behind her head, gently supporting her right cheek, a smile revealing a hint of frosty coldness.
"So quickly in hand, that is rather interesting. As for what to do next..." She paused for a moment, and the figure of Fu Qishan appeared at the top of the stairs.
Having recuperated, Fu Qishan had made a recovery, seemingly just like her old self on the surface.
But as her mother, Fu Zining knew the incident had left a psychological shadow on her daughter. The very thought brought an unstoppable torrent of hatred for Song Weiyi.
"Mom, who are you talking to on the phone?" Fu Qishan sat down beside her, snuggling up and asking subconsciously.
Fu Zining looked at her daughter affectionately, "Talking to a friend. Once Mom handles this, I'll tell you about it."
