He held a scarlet-flamed cigarette between his fingers and leaned close to her ear.
"Muscle relaxant or drug C? Huh?"
The familiar appearance of the man and the aggressive smell of tobacco approached him step by step, so close that Yu Han tried his best to ignore his chilling nervousness and tilted his head to hold the cigarette in his hand, spitting all the smoke in his face.
Mr. Yan's unclear smile appeared.
"You decide."
The documents in Yu Han's hand were scattered on the floor of the living room. Yan Qingjiang's eyes were dim and unclear, and he still sat lazily on the sofa with an indifferent attitude. "Yan Qingjiang, please surrender."
Yan Qingjiang stood up, his jawline tightened, and his whole body blended into the night. He opened the door indifferently, let the cigarette in his hand light up, and kicked the threshold with his toes.
"Ahan, let's go"
Concept: The misguided today originates from the silent yesterday