He knew. Again.
He was calling to ask her—what were her intentions?
Xu Si held the corded receiver, draped a blanket over her long legs, her right palm resting on the desk surface, fingers unconsciously tapping out a faint rhythm, appearing somewhat composed.
She leisurely explained, "He said some trash to me, which I didn't appreciate."
"Hmm, then he deserves a lesson." The voice on the other end of the line was magnetic, its tone teasing the night rain, laced with a hint of indulgence.
"What, did he go crying to you? Is he someone important? Will it be troublesome?" Xu Si's voice grew somewhat perplexed.
That day, Xu Si had looked the man in floral clothes up and down but saw no sign of him being an important figure. Any random grunt from the Triad Society would have looked more like a tough character than him.
Could it be that appearances are really deceiving?
