Good friends, good partners all say this, leaving Zhao Yan even more bewildered.
This world-class dancer, now the princess of the Great East Pot, couldn't believe such a fact at all.
Her husband had already sacrificed himself and yet became the president of the Wale Republic. What on earth is going on?
If he was indeed him, why has he changed so much?
If he was indeed him, why has he never shown up, never spoken out, never contacted her over the past few years?
If he wasn't him, why does every gesture, indeed, bear traces of Liu Zhizhong? His voice, my god, it's practically Liu Zhizhong reincarnated!
Why does a high-level intelligence boss like Ye Bingyu also firmly believe that he is Liu Zhizhong?
Zhao Yan's entire mind was in chaos, her heartbeat racing, her head in a dizzy fog.
Watching the two raise their wine glasses, she found herself unable to lift the red wine glass before her. Shaking her head, she rubbed her forehead, looking utterly at a loss.
