He Chen pursed his lips and withdrew his gaze, looking out the window again, seemingly not planning to answer.
After a dozen seconds, he stubbed out his cigarette and casually picked up the phone, putting it to his ear.
The call connected, but the two of them simultaneously stayed silent.
He Chen lowered his gaze, brushing the ash off his robe, and his tone lost its usual frivolity, "Speak."
A single simple word, carrying a cold detachment.
Yin Mo didn't hesitate any longer, asking plainly, "If the software you installed for me is being monitored, how should I handle it?"
He Chen's eyes paused, rubbing his fingertips, "Are you asking me for advice?"
"Yes, asking you for advice."
Perhaps Yin Mo's tone was too calm that He Chen could almost imagine her expressionless face.
In his heart, a trace of indescribable displeasure spread.
