Yun City.
Bairong Hotel.
Knock, knock, knock—a man knocked three times and entered the room, "Young Master Zhi," he said with his head bowed respectfully, "the person has crossed the border."
Young Master Zhi was in a bad mood.
Because he hadn't slept on the operating table last night but in the presidential suite, he had a problem—he would suffer from insomnia if he didn't sleep on an operating table.
He was gloomy all over because he hadn't slept well, "Did you bring the stuff?"
"Brought it."
He reached for a cigarette and pulled one out, "Are you coming with me to pick up the goods tonight?"
Su Chan stepped forward and lit it for him, "Mmh."
The cell phone on the table rang.
Su Qinghou glanced at it and let it ring a few times before answering, "What?"
His tone was rather impatient.
It was his nemesis.
Su Lihua said, "Your father has left Pullman."
Su Qinghou leisurely blew smoke, "And then?"
