In a luxurious clubhouse in Yanjing, Yang Lingfeng sat sullenly on the sofa, his face dark as water.
Just at this moment, a figure hurried over, leaned into Yang Lingfeng's ear, and said in a low voice, "Young Master, we've lost contact with Yang Qi, it seems like something has happened to them."
"A bunch of idiots, they can't even handle such a small task."
Yang Lingfeng cursed with a dark face.
"Young Master, what should we do now?"
The middle-aged man furrowed his brows and asked in a deep voice.
"Let this matter end here; there's no need to send anyone else to Zhonghai."
Yang Lingfeng took a deep breath and said solemnly.
"Yes."
The middle-aged man responded and then exited the room.
"Ye Chen."
A cold light flashed in Yang Lingfeng's eyes as he reached out and smashed a bottle of red wine worth a hundred thousand yuan onto the floor; the crimson liquid seeped into the red carpet, intensifying its already vivid redness.
"Young Master Yang, who has made you so angry?"