"Heh heh..." Xiao Zhan lit a cigarette, white smoke rising and obscuring his handsome face, "In that case, I'll wait for good news from Young Master Huo."
Huo Jingting didn't speak, he just hung up the phone.
Xiao Zhan also hung up the phone and then tossed it aside.
He turned his gaze away, looking at the man lying unconscious on the bed, "Dad, I won't forget Mom's revenge."
...
In the evening, after work, Huo Jingting didn't go home; he went straight to the nightclub.
One of the owners behind this nightclub managed Changlong Wharf, and since Xiao Zhan had a shipment passing through there, he had to come over to discuss it.
He chose a booth in the corner to wait, his gaze sweeping over the indulgent young bodies in the hall, his long fingers tapping rhythmically on the tabletop.
The pent-up frustration in his heart had yet to find release.
