The probability of Lu Xiaojiu appearing in the coffeehouse during this period is very high. Liao Mengying gave him a report that confirmed his suspicion; this café has almost become Lu Xiaojiu's favorite place to spend her holidays.
"I didn't ask you to investigate these things," Lu Bai said.
"Sorry, I was wrong," Liao Mengying admitted sincerely.
Lu Bai waved his hand, and Liao Mengying left the room.
He was engrossed in the data, among which was a black-and-white photo, obviously captured by satellite, showing Lu Xiaojiu in a white shirt and trousers, sitting in the outdoor café, lost in thought. The picture was like a static painting.
I've never seen a girl who loves wearing white shirts so much.
As the fashion capital of New York, the streets are filled with vibrant beauties in pink and purple. Lu Xiaojiu stood out, like a green leaf among the blooming flowers. Since childhood, she never thought of herself as pretty.
