The name "Song Heping" shattered the quiet air of the office like a thunderclap.
Simon's pupils contracted ever so slightly, his body leaning back in the chair seemed to stiffen for an instant.
On the screen of an internal monitoring terminal in front of him, a low-level yellow warning box had popped up automatically due to the reappearance of the name, silently flashing.
He didn't speak immediately, just slowly leaned back, the expensive leather chair making a slight creaking sound.
He raised his right hand, his index and middle fingers together, subconsciously tapping lightly and rhythmically on the smooth tabletop, making a "dub, dub, dub" sound.
His gaze returned to the image that had captured Song Heping's profile, his expression complex and unreadable.
Why is it this guy again...
Simon's inner turmoil was far more agitated than he appeared on the surface.
If possible, he'd rather never deal with that name for the rest of his life.
