Duan Jingwen's gaze remained fixed on the entry records in his hand, and after a long pause, he finally asked, "Tell me your terms."
"Talking to a smart person is always pleasant."
Sang Luo smiled slightly, "The terms are simple. Take that woman, Yuanya, and flee far away, and never let her appear in front of my son again!"
To her, Duan Jingwen was now like a stray dog that would bite anyone as long as it was given a bone.
And there, she had already thrown the bone.
"As long as you agree, cars, houses, money, and a new identity—all of this I will arrange for you. My people will contact you about subsequent matters."
With a graceful gesture, she tossed an envelope in front of him containing only a black card from a Swiss bank.
After finishing her speech, Sang Luo walked away, obviously convinced that Duan Jingwen would agree.
