"Very well. Keep in touch." Song Heping had no extra words and directly ended the call.
After putting down the phone, Hunter raised an eyebrow: "Sounds like he's thrilled to madness."
"Just a revelry of interests." Song Heping snorted coldly, "He takes the top seat, we get the urgently needed crude oil sales, it's just mutual benefit. As for how much blood flows in the White Elephant Country's underworld, what does that have to do with us?"
Hunter was about to say something when Song Heping's other phone rang again.
This time it was Avanti.
Song Heping picked up the phone again and pressed the call button.
Avanti's voice, always with a hint of concern for the nation and its people, came through the earpiece.
Song Heping always felt that Avanti seemed to carry a heavy burden.
So every time they met, the other party's face was expressionless, and there was a kind of hard melancholy in his eyes.
"Song, there's a situation I think I must share with you immediately."
