On the streets of Jinghai City, two powerful luxury cars roared toward the busiest part of the city centre.

Ouyang's poetry sitting in the car frowned tightly and his eyes were indifferent.

The girl next to me who likes to talk may not have recovered from the assassination just now, but she has been shutting her mouth in the car at the moment.

"Sister and sister, what was your man who just killed you? Can you remember? Fang Bo suddenly asked.

Ouyang shook his head slowly.

"Wear a hat and you can't see your face clearly." Ouyang's theory of poetic sentiment.

Fang Bowei frowned slightly: "I don't think I understand,...