Gu Annan glanced at the woman who had already fallen asleep beside him.
The voice on the phone continued, "Should we keep looking? Perhaps Miss Lu had some sort of incident after leaving the hospital; it’s fine as long as the bloodstains on her body aren’t from her own injury."
Gu Annan remained silent, his dark eyes fixed on the night outside the windshield.
His fingers, well-defined at the joints, gripped the steering wheel tightly, "Just a simple check. As long as she’s not in any danger, that’s all that matters."
After hanging up the phone, his expression was still stern.
Indeed, bloodstains don’t prove anything.
Encountering patients involved in accidents in the hospital and such were all trivial matters.
When he had asked her what had happened earlier, she hadn’t said anything, probably because it was such a minor issue, not worth mentioning as trouble she faced.
Yet there was this slight unease in his heart.
It was difficult to pinpoint the source of this unease; perhaps it was because she could have simply gone home to change clothes that day, or because she didn’t mention a word about it when he came to find her.
More likely, it was because of what Arthur had said that day.
Cesar had been spotted nearby.
This person, who shouldn’t be here, was suddenly acting out of the ordinary, which made him somewhat alert.
He wasn’t afraid that Cesar would dare to do anything on Manchester soil; it was just annoying to be disturbed.
Wasn’t it enough for this guy to swagger around in Europe? How big of an appetite does he need?
In a black Rolls-Royce driving out of the Imperial Palace Hotel, the girl sat inside, shivering slightly.
She cautiously glanced at the man a short distance away; he remained like an eternally unmelting iceberg, his pale blue eyes slightly closed.
Since she got into the car until now, he hadn’t spoken a word, not even giving her a second glance.
Even a single word from him, even a reproach, would have given her much relief.
But he said nothing, and she could only sit anxiously by his side, waiting.
This silence was so oppressive that it felt like a sign of an impending storm.
"Sir, here are the documents."
The middle-aged man by his side passed over an ultra-thin tablet computer.
The man opened his eyes at the sound and reached out to take it.
The screen displayed Ji Shaoyang’s relevant information; almost everything that could be found was here.
He looked at it briefly, not raising his head, his thin lips moved, "A coincidental acquaintance?"
Despite his predominantly Western European facial features and demeanor, his Chinese was very standard.
Wen Qiao sat in the corner, softly saying, "Yes."
"Not bad," the man’s cold fingers glided across the screen, "You have a good eye for people."
Wen Qiao, hearing his tone, which was hard to interpret, felt no sense of praise from his words.
Her heart rose to her throat, she took a deep breath, "I didn’t know about that before..."
"Do you think that with the Ji family of Manchester behind you, I would have no way to deal with you?"
Wen Qiao shook her head, "I really didn’t know who he was."
Upon seeing the information about Ji Shaoyang and Gu Annan, the man’s eyes widened slightly, but he wasn’t surprised.
After a long while, he passed the tablet back to the other person, and his cold eyes finally looked over, "Father asked me to bring you back. Do you think I should listen to him?"
"I truly didn’t intend not to return," Wen Qiao started carefully, "He agreed at the time... for me to come out and clear my head."
"I don’t remember allowing you to come to China."
"..." Wen Qiao was at a loss for words.
The man’s voice softened a little, "I can wait a while before taking you back."