"Understood." Jiali's voice was crisp and efficient.
Lu Fan hung up the phone, leaned back in his chair, and looked out at the courtyard.
The leaves of the frangipani tree had already sprouted, vibrant green and swaying gently in the wind. He recalled the earnest look on his daughter's face when she was working on her designs, and the sheer joy in her voice when she told him, "Dad, I got an order!" To have her drafts stolen and then be scolded on top of it—the poor child must be feeling incredibly wronged.
He picked up his phone and sent a message to Jiang Silu: "Silu, I know what happened. Don't be afraid. Dad will take care of it."
After sending it, he placed the phone on the desk, stood up, and walked over to the window.
Back in her dorm room, Jiang Silu sat on her bed, staring blankly at her phone.
Lu Fan's message popped up. She clicked it open to read, and her tears finally fell.
