Both of them had their own calculations.
Xiao Yihe didn't continue wasting words with Ouyang Xiong. He directly hung up the call. After hanging up, he casually tossed the phone aside and leaned back against his chair with an exhausted expression. An Lan still hadn't returned his call.
Fu Juan has been dead for so long now. How much space does she still occupy in An Lan's heart? Xiao Yihe wasn't sure. If she insisted on not agreeing, the only plan he could think of was to send Chang Jiao abroad. Once she had the baby, he'd bring the baby back.
In just a few minutes, Xiao Yihe had thought up a fallback plan.
Just as he summoned some energy and prepared to deal with the chaos at work, the office door suddenly slammed open. In walked Chang Jiao, wearing a white velvet dress that reached her legs. Tears reddened her eyes as she pitifully lunged toward him.
