Ye Xian zoned out for a second, rubbing his head as the irritation started flaring up again.
How should I reply to these two texts?
I really owe these two guys.
'Ding—'
Both Bo Tingshen, sitting in the audience, and Ye Shaowen, in the car, received a reply two minutes later.
[Ye Xian: CEO, aren't you going home to spend the Mid-Autumn Festival with your family? "May we all be blessed with longevity though far apart, we are still able to share the beauty of the moon together." Mid-Autumn Festival is a wonderful tradition of our Chinese nation that has been around for five thousand years, you can't lose it!]
[Ye Xian: Second brother, didn't I tell you not to come? My performance isn't over yet, and who knows if I'll have another schedule after it ends. If I'm free, there's no need for you to pick me up; I can go home by myself.]
No sooner had the message gone out than Ye Shaowen replied.
