"Li Xiangyang, you misunderstand me. How could I not help you after so many years of friendship?"
Zhang San, fearing that Li Xiangyang would shoot, instantly flashed a flattering smile on his face and hurriedly spoke.
"Good, you know what's good for you. Hurry up and take your people to dispose of this kid's body."
Li Xiangyang's voice was cold as he spoke, his hand holding the gun trembling slightly.
How unpredictable life is. Just a few hours ago, he was a brash, show-off rich second generation.
But now, by some cruel twist of fate, he had become a cold-blooded killer with a gun.
"Fortunately, the situation is still under control. As long as Zhang Xiaomeng's body is taken care of and Zhang San's group's mouths are shut, all will be well."
Li Xiangyang muttered to himself, inwardly.
"Trying to bury me alive? You're really ruthless."
Just then, Zhang Xiaomeng's voice rang out.
