One day.
One week.
18 days.
Late at night, Feng Jingliang left the hotel, browsed his phone with his head down, and unexpectedly didn't wait for that woman to look down.
She had spirit, and he liked that.
He wanted to tame her like a sheep.
Was it because his passenger seat had been filled with a bevy of beautiful women that made her throw a tantrum?
Forced him to be the first to apologize?
After thinking for a moment, Feng Jingliang took out his flip phone and tried to contact her, pretending to dial the wrong number while drunk.
He had his pride to maintain.
The black Ferrari was parked by the street waiting for the driver, and Feng Jingliang squat casually on the road, alone and shadowy, elegantly smoking a cigarette, watching a stray dog rummage through a garbage bin across the street.
"Xiao Ti, after you left me, you'd be just like that dog across the street, only able to rummage through trash," he murmured to himself while looking through his contacts.