"What do you think?" Gu Huiyin looked at him shyly, with the posture of his little daughter in his eyes.

Before they could finish their discussion, Song Shaojun walked in and he apologized: "I have something to leave first. I have been on business in the capital during this period. I can find me if my aunt has anything to do."

"Okay, slow down, I won't give it to you." Song Lin said.

"Well, aunt stay."

Song Shaojun went out.

Song Shaojun drank some wine in the evening, but he was not drunk, but there was a surging heat in his body. The hot heat burned his abdomen a little.

The wind is very cool in autumn nights. Song Shaojun stood at the vent and blew for a while before he felt more comfortable.

Instead of leaving immediately, he went to the outdoor parking lot and sat in his Ferrari.

Outside the glass window, the night is chaotic, the lights are brilliant, and the streets are also very lively.

Song Shaojun took out a business card from the pocket on the collar of his clothes, and looked at the words on the business card with cold and sharp eyes.

This is the business card he and Mo Xiu just exchanged.

Countless clips flashed through my mind, like movies, flashing in my mind like a movie revolving light, and I couldn't stop.

The drunkenness surged, and Song Shaojun's head ached faintly. He closed his eyes and leaned against the seat.

After about a quarter of an hour, Song Shaojun drove away in a sports car.

The car drove to a remote wilderness east of the capital.

The car stopped, and he opened the window, and the "hula" autumn wind came in, slapped his face, and burst into coolness.

Song Shaojun's always gentle and gentle face had a little more solemn and sharpness, his chin was tightly tense, and his eyes were even more endless.

He lit a cigarette, loosened the steering wheel, freed up his hand and dialed the number on his business card.

After a few seconds, the other end was connected.

"Mr. Mo, I am Song Shaojun, I have just met him."

The other end was dull for a while and said, "Mr. Song."

"Mr. Mo, I'm in the open space here at Wanhe Project in the eastern suburbs of Beijing, I'll wait for you."

After saying that, Song Shaojun hung up the phone directly.

If the truth is the same as he thought, then he is sure that Mo Xiu will come.

The past is intertwined little by little in the mind, and the position of the heart is faintly as if it was hit by a drumstick. Song Shaojun smokes and the smoke drifts away with the wind.

This is the wilderness, the moon is clear and there is no sign of people around.

Song Shaojun's Ferrari was particularly eye-catching when parked in the open space.

He smoked silently.

He is not a smoker, but he smoked nearly a pack of cigarettes tonight.

The clear moonlight shines on the glass window, and also reflects the luster in Song Shaojun's eyes.

When he smoked the fourth cigarette, Mo Xiu came.

It was Mo Xiu's driver who sent him over. As soon as the car stopped, the door opened and Mo Xiu got out of the car.

Song Shaojun immediately put out the cigarette butts and got out of the driver's seat.

Mo Xiu waved to the driver to drive back, and here he and Song Shaojun were the only ones left.

The wind blew on the two of them.

Song Shaojun leaned on his Ferrari body, put his hands in his trouser pockets, and looked silently at Mo Xiu, who was sitting in a wheelchair in front of him.

In recent years, Song Shaojun has been to the capital for only a few times, sometimes to visit his grandfather, and sometimes to discuss business.

For him, the capital city is not considered his hometown.

His half-brother was not particularly familiar with him.

Under the mask, a cool curve appeared on the corner of Mo Xiu's lips. He remained silent and his hands were quietly resting on the armrest.

The eyes were facing each other, and for a moment, no one spoke.
Chapter completed!