"Of course!" Sang Nanfeng withdrew his gaze from him, not even glancing at the disheveled Fu Xing, and strode directly out the door.
The sky was gloomy, and his heart was equally dark. He hadn't come all this way in the middle of the night just to deal with some minor issue involving an artist.
It was because the artist who had hit someone was Sang Qiao's artist. He wanted to see Sang Qiao.
Sang Nanfeng couldn't remember how long it had been since he had last seen her. He could only watch the plots of their first broadcast on television, where Sang Qiao had become increasingly active and smart when carrying out tasks.
But she hadn't updated her Weibo, and he had no way of knowing her current situation, nor could he lower his face to ask Sang Shen.
Now his company was left with only Jiaojiao. Sang Qiao had terminated her contract and backed out of the circle a while ago, and now Sang Shen had left as well.