Mo Siluo hastily returned to his office, picked up the cell phone on the desk, and indeed saw a missed call. He immediately redialed the number, grabbed his coat hanging on the leather chair, and prepared to leave.
Wen Wan counted slowly, thinking, "If the call isn't returned by the time I count to one hundred, he'll have something coming for him tonight!" Sure enough, as she reached seventy-nine, the phone rang, and she answered it immediately, holding it to her ear, "Mr. Mo."
Mo Siluo had already reached the elevator entrance, and his assistant had already pressed the down button, but the man halted his steps just because of the woman's call of "Mr. Mo."
"Is the house on fire?" Mo Siluo asked, frowning.
Wen Wan replied with a laugh, "Yeah, the backyard's on fire, nearly burned the roof down."
Mo Siluo furrowed his brows, pondering the hidden meaning in the woman's words.
"Mr. Mo, how about having lunch together?" Wen Wan continued to ask.
