His Son Would Naturally Resemble Him

In his office, Mo Yixuan placed stacks of contracts in his drawer, then raised his hand to look at his watch. It was 5:35 PM.

He stood up and placed both hands on his desk, then looked at Yang Mingyu.

"Mingyu, I'll head back now. Please drop me a call if there is anything urgent to attend to." He said brusquely, then stuffed his handphone and his car keys into his pocket.

Yang Mingyu tossed the pen he had been signing the documents with on the table, then look at his friend with a complicated gaze.

"What's wrong with you?" Mo Yixuan felt irritated by his friend's gaze. Why was he looking at him in such a strange manner?

Yang Mingyu's lips curled into a cold smile and he smiled disdainfully.