YANG HAORAN AND THE GIRLS (3)

Su Jingjing couldn't speak. She could only shake her head incessantly. 

The ladies recognized him since he had been visiting the facility more frequently of late. They supplied him with the details. 

"A man barged in and confronted her?" His velvety voice rang with anxiety.

"En, Sir." A lady retorted.

"The director called the man 'Mr. Xue'. That's what I heard." Another lady informed while nodding. They yapped at each other." 

"She did, too?" Yang Haoran meant Su Jingjing. The ladies nodded. "So you fought back, my little lamb?"

"I did not intend to." Su Jingjing whispered against the warmth of his chest. 

"No, that's good." Yang Haoran's lips curled into a sly smile despite the fiasco.

"Yang Haoran…" She trailed off weakly, yet with such firmness in her voice. 

"Yes? I'm listening." He felt her fist clutch his dress shirt around the chest.

"Take me away."