Mu Anran's mind flashed, and she suddenly remembered Yu Lingqian's phone call.
She quickly pressed a series of numbers, anxiously waiting for the phone to connect.
"Dudu dudu——"
Each busy tone seemed like a hammer striking her heart, and Mu Anran's eyes began to redden with urgency:
Young Master Yu, please, pick up the phone, pick up the phone!
"Mu Anran, you open the door first; we can talk this through," Yang Yiyi was still relentlessly asking her to open the door.
Because she had to take out her phone — if Qin Zheng discovered the recording inside, she would be in deep trouble.
"I won't open it; you're in cahoots with Qin Zheng!" Mu Anran anxiously waited.
Young Master Yu, why aren't you answering the phone?
Beiyujing Villa.
"Clang!"
A golden bullet fell into the tray, making a crisp sound.
