As Tang Yiyi was heading home with a mind full of questions, in a room at the black market, a man in a black tailcoat with a sinister charm glanced at the personal terminal on his wrist and suddenly smiled at another person, "Okay, everything's solved now. You can relax, right?"
Unfortunately, the other person didn't buy it at all and coldly spat out two words: "Busybody!"
The man raised his long brows and looked at the stern face of the other person; his smile suddenly deepened, "Oh? Me, a busybody? If I remember correctly, it seems like you asked me to sell to her just now, and also help her deal with those bugs outside. Isn't that right? My dear nephew?"
Upon hearing the final appellation, Song Yunxiu's forehead immediately twitched, and he glared coldly at the not-so-distant sinister man, gritting his teeth as he spoke, "You're only six years older than me!"
