Of course Qiao Nian didn't want to offend him, but at this point he had no choice but to bite the bullet and plead in a low voice: "Miss Qiao, the Queen has feelings for you, can you please tell the people in Jing City to let her go..."
He hasn't finished speaking yet.
Then he heard the girl interrupt him ruthlessly: "No." There was no room for maneuver.
Yingzi had originally remembered Mr. Xue's instructions to communicate well with Qiao Nian and to convince the other party to be soft-hearted in order to give Nie Qingru a chance.
At this moment, he was repeatedly treated coldly by Qiao Nian. No matter how much he explained the truth to Qiao Nian, the other party didn't listen to a word.
It seemed like he was talking at cross purposes and the other party had no empathy at all.
The shadow is accustomed to standing in a superior position and making demands on others. He rarely needs to lower his posture to communicate and reason with others, especially when he sees that reason cannot be made clear.
He was about to raise his tone and say something harsh.
There was a sudden beep from the phone receiver.
Shadow was stunned for a moment before he came to his senses and realized what the voice was. His face turned dark.
Qiao Nian didn't give him a chance to continue speaking and just hung up the phone without saying goodbye.
Shadow vomited so much that he almost vomited blood. Unwilling to give up, he immediately called back and tried to communicate with the other party again...
However.
"Sorry, the user you dialed is currently unavailable."
Veins bulged on Shadow's forehead, and he raised his hand to smash the phone against the wall. Fortunately, reason came back to him in the end. The back of his hand holding the phone was straightened, and he endured it.
—Qiao Nian!
Shadow's eyes were full of cruelty. He swallowed all the blood in his throat and called Continent M again: "Tell Mr. Xue that Qiao Nian refuses to let him go."
**
Beijing city.
The network of contacts that Mr. Xue has built up over the decades is not to be underestimated, and he acted quickly to find someone to mediate.
The car of the Minister of International Economy drove into the outside of one of the large courtyards in the western suburbs courtyard house. It was a quiet place with winding alleys in the midst of bustling city.
The old floor tiles and red walls, which have been precipitated by the years, complement each other beautifully, and the walls are covered with neatly trimmed green plants and roses.
The midday sunlight streamed in from the black sedan until it came to a steady stop at the door of the courtyard house in the middle.
The car door opened, and the tall, mature and steady man stepped out. He wore a black hat and walked straight to the entrance of the courtyard. He politely said to the doorman in fluent Chinese, "Hello, is this Ye's home?"
The doorman saw a blond foreigner and nodded cautiously: "Who are you?"
The man took off his hat and smiled: "Please tell Mr. Ye that he is visiting from Vancouver." The doorman saw that he had an extraordinary background and said softly: "Please wait here for a moment."
Having said that, he immediately went in to report to the people inside.
…
Ye Maoshan is still fighting crickets at home.
Ye Qichen would stay in the living room playing games during his rare holidays. He had just turned 6 and had not grown much taller, still had small arms and legs, but the baby fat on his face had faded, and he gradually had the heroic outline of a Ye family man, with delicate features.
He was now sitting on the sofa in the living room, lazily holding his mobile phone in his hand, with his head down and his eyes focused. If you didn't know, you would think he was studying seriously with his jaw clenched.
After playing with the cricket for a while, Ye Maoshan looked up and saw the little guy's diligent look, so he dropped the small stick he was using to tease the cricket.
(End of this chapter)