Shortly after hanging up the phone, Zheng Haoyu set his phone heavily back on his desk. His face showed a hint of sorrow, a touch of reluctance, and a sheer mask of pain. If anyone saw him like this, they would never relate him to the usually stoic Zheng Haoyu, but ironically, he was none other than Zheng Haoyu himself.
After a long while, he picked up his phone again. Bypassing the contact list, he dialed a number directly. When his normally light phone felt incredibly heavy in his hands, he knew he couldn't avoid making this call - especially for Su Nian.
The moment the dial tone rang, Zheng Haoyu felt his heart jolt. He knew the call was about to go through. His long-repressed heart started to pound heavily, echoing clearly in his spacious office, together with his breathing.
