PREVIEW
... dong left the badminton hall with contentment.
Taking out his phone, he glanced at the time—it was past 5 o’clock.
He thought for a moment, then dialed Lin Xiran’s number.
The art school was less than a twenty-minute drive from here; he wanted to have dinner with her.
But after calling twice in a row, Lin Xiran didn’t answer.
Zhang Jingdong smiled, got into the car, and said, "To Xinghui Music Company."
"Okay."
Song Yu swiftly maneuvered th ...
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