Sang Nanfeng thought that after what he had said, Sang Qiao should understand what to do.
The next second, the phone was abruptly hung up. He stared at the darkening screen, his face contorted with anger.
He hadn't even had a chance to explode with anger.
Director Li's phone rang with a string of rings, "Hello, Qiaoqiao, what's up?"
"Yes, I'm on the scene, but it really was An Chi's fault, and since there are no cameras in the men's restroom, I can't really say much. We still have to give your brother an explanation."
"Okay, okay, okay, let's do it that way."
With those brief three sentences, Director Li hung up the phone, as if the matter was resolved. He didn't plan on saying anything to Sang Nanfeng.
This made Sang Nanfeng even more annoyed, "What does Sang Qiao mean? Her people hit someone, and she doesn't even show her face?"
"Don't worry, Sang Qiao will call back soon and give you an explanation."
Director Li responded, his fingers still rapidly tapping on his phone.