"No." Xi Nanfeng answered lazily, "If he doesn't want to talk about it, even prying his mouth open won't make him speak."
"What about his phone?" Mo Qian's deep, dark eyes turned cold. After a moment of silence, he suddenly spoke.
"Should be in his suit jacket." Xi Nanfeng glanced sideways at him, "You want to call someone at his company?"
"Mm, maybe I can find out something."
As Mo Qian spoke, he walked to the foot of the bed where the suit jacket was placed and retrieved the phone from the pocket.
Ye Cheng's phone had a password, but as a long-time close friend, Mo Qian could unlock it with his eyes closed.
After unlocking the phone, Mo Qian swiped to the contacts list, intending to reach out to an acquaintance of Ye Cheng's to inquire.
Suddenly, his gaze froze on a special contact nickname: Mei.
This was likely Zimei's number. Mo Qian noticed there were five or six call records tied to the number.
