Qiao Yu accepted the business card. “Thank you, Captain Zhao.”
The director then said, “You two, go help Qiao Yu. And call for another hearse to take them home.”
Soon, Qiao Yu and a few orderlies were carrying Wen Qing’s body away. As she passed Bo Hanshi, she stared straight ahead, their shoulders brushing.
Bo Hanshi’s hand shot out, clamping around her arm.
A faint smile touched Qiao Yu’s lips.
















