"Very good."
The coldness in Bo Jinghang's eyes eased slightly, finally showing a bit of the attitude that sent Zhao Xiaolu into a frenzy of delight: "Describe in detail the clothes she usually wears when she sees you. You'll have the opportunity to see her again."
"I remember! I remember!"
Zhao Xiaolu breathed a sigh of relief, recalling the woman's clothing styles and labels, following the clues to find the brand and quickly identifying a white winter sports outfit.
The loose design didn't show the waistline, giving a neutral illusion, without many characteristics, truly suitable for concealing one's identity.
With slender fingertips tapping the phone, Bo Jinghang directly ordered dozens of sets and left the detention room with long strides.
Behind him.
Zhao Xiaolu was nervously eager to call out to him, yet feared disturbing his thoughts, he refrained from speaking, afraid that Bo Jinghang might throw him into the psychiatric ward in displeasure.
