Fu Shiyan stood beside the window at the end of the corridor, gazing into the distance, the dazzling neon lights softening the man's sharp brows and eyes.
"Is it delivered?"
Han Yang stammered, "That... not yet."
Fu Shiyan frowned, "Speak."
Han Yang had no choice but to report honestly, "I saw a young man enter Miss An's home."
He dared not breathe heavily, waiting for Fu Shiyan's response.
The other was silent, and Han Yang felt as if he had been waiting for a century.
Fu Shiyan said indifferently, "Wait in the car, call me when that person leaves."
After hanging up the phone, he brought up 'Yanyan's' name, rubbing it repeatedly but never actually dialing out.
His gaze darkened as he put away his phone and took out a cigarette from the packet, lighting it up.
The crimson glow was particularly conspicuous in the dark.
After a long while, the flame was extinguished, and along with it, the man's gloomy face disappeared into the dimness.
Bishui Bay.
