They hailed a car by the roadside, and the two of them got in, one after the other.
With people coming and going everywhere, under the watchful eyes of the public, Yang Fan didn't want to kill anyone here.
Ten minutes later, the taxi stopped in the barren hills and wilderness outside Xinghai City, and the two got out one by one.
For Qian Wenxing at this moment, death no longer meant much.
His expression was calm. As he got out of the car, he looked around and then glanced back at Yang Fan, his face carrying a faint smile.
Yang Fan noticed the smile on Qian Wenxing's face. Honestly, he didn't understand why this old guy deliberately put on the air of someone indifferent to everything. Yang Fan didn't like this tone or posture.
