“The one who received your documents that day wasn’t me,” Jun Hao threw out this sentence and strode towards the car parked outside.
“You mean An Ke received the documents and heard me talking that day?” He hadn’t even settled into the seat when Jun Hao started the car. “Didn’t you dump her? What does her hearing it matter?”
Jun Hao remained silent, his mind in turmoil. Kensei suddenly realized: “Could it be that An Ke heard those words and dumped you instead?
Jiu Kai Xian Wei, shut up.” Jun Hao punched the steering wheel, and the car shook slightly. Jun Hao cursed under his breath: “Damn.” Then the car sped up again.
Xian Wei knew that when Jun Hao called him by his full name, it was best to be obedient, or he wouldn’t know how he might die. He sat quietly in the back seat, no longer making a sound.
The car was speeding on the highway, triggering an alarm, with police cars chasing behind. Jun Hao did not slow down. Half an hour later, he arrived at the airport on time and boarded a special plane, leaving the mess for others to clean up.
“An Ke, Old Zhang is looking for you,” Xiao Chen ran over hurriedly: “Go to his office quickly.”
“Mm.” An Ke responded, quickly gathering her materials and heading to Old Zhang’s office. Just as she was about to knock, Old Zhang opened the door: “Come in quickly.”
An Ke smiled slightly: “What’s so urgent?”
Old Zhang blushed, looking a bit embarrassed: “A personal matter. My son ate the clay pot porridge you made last time, and he’s been crying to eat it these past few days. I bought many things, but he won’t eat them, insisting on the porridge the auntie made that day. What can I do? How can a three-year-old be so picky?”
An Ke laughed: “I thought it was something serious. I’ll cook the porridge after work today, and you can take it home for your son.”
“If it were only that simple,” Old Zhang was sweating, unsure how to continue.
“What else is there? As long as I can help, I’ll definitely try my best.” Zhang Ning remembered her kindness and was thinking about how to repay her.
