Chapter 8

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Jiang Muhan, who was far away in Beijing, didn't know until after work that Sheng Wei had been made difficult by his fans.

Assistant Li Xiaohui didn't dare to disturb him when he was at work, so he could only step on his off-duty hours to send him online videos.

[Brother Jiang, look at this. Sister Weiwei was made difficult by your fans.]

Jiang Muhan was bent down and sat in the back seat. The driver closed the door for him and drove around the driver's seat. Jiang Muhan clicked on Li Xiaohui's video after sitting well.

After reading it, his clear and cold eyebrows frowned slightly, and his breath was very cold. The driver couldn't help shivering. While driving, he secretly glanced at the noble and cold man in the back seat.

What's wrong with the boss?

I seem a little angry.

[Brother Jiang, do we want to help Sister Weiwei clarify it?] Li Xiaohui sent another inquiry.

Jiang Muhan's white and slender fingers typed lightly: [No.]

Li Xiaohui: "..."

Is it really so plastic?

Watching his wife bullied by his fans, can Brother Jiang tolerate it?

Li Xiaohui scratched his head puzzledly. Why do you sometimes feel that Brother Jiang loves Sister Weiwei very much, and sometimes he doesn't love Sister Weiwei?

The relationship between the two is so complicated.

Is it true that they are just a plastic couple, as mentioned on the Internet?

I can't figure it out. Li Xiaohui shook his head and changed to the next topic: [Brother Jiang, there will be a fashion party in the circle next Friday. We are invited over there. Are you going?]

[Sister Weiwei should go there then.] Li Xiaohui just said one more casually, but there was no special meaning.

Jiang Muhan's clear fingers seemed to inadvertently scan some two words on the screen, and then gently tapped the virtual keyboard: [Go.]

After the two finished the communication, Jiang Muhan withdrew from WeChat, with his thick eyelashes restrained. After thinking for a moment, his symmetrical bone finger skillfully turned over Sheng Wei's phone and dialed it out, and hung up twice.

Jiang Muhan thought Sheng Wei had something to do, so he waited for a few minutes before dialing again.

It still hung up twice.

Jiang Muhan was keenly aware of what and sent messages on WeChat instead.

As a result, a scarlet exclamation point appeared in the dialog box, and the gray font below prompted: the message had been sent but rejected by the other party.

Jiang Muhan: "..."

In a moment of silence, the man smiled softly.

He leaned back lazily on the back of the chair, with long legs folded at will, covering a regular bow tie on his cold white fingertips, fastening it tightly, and dragging it down hard.

Unexpectedly, he was blacklisted.

Sheng Wei, it's really yours.

"Weiwei, why don't you answer Mr. Jiang?" In the hotel room of Haishi, Zhou Qin saw that Sheng Wei hung up Jiang Muhan's phone twice and couldn't help asking curiously, "Are you throwing the anger on him as a fan?"

"Really? Sister Weiwei?" Xiaotian carefully said good things to her idol, "Actually, it's not about Mr. Jiang."

The three of them ordered takeout. At this time, they were sitting at the table eating, but Sheng Wei had no appetite. Chopsticks were digging around in the box without clipping them. "What's the point of answering him on the phone? Doesn't it consume electricity?"

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