his face, or his subordinates, no one dared to speak another word. They were afraid that their chattering would end up like Fan Zhiwei's tragic fate. 。Earlier, Ye Fan’s seemingly casual glance brough... next-door guest room, Wu Xia was still fast asleep. 。At this time, it was almost ten o'clock. 。Chekhov, you goddamn bastard, don't you dare delay Fan Ye's business, or tomorrow afternoon, I'll make s...