"It's now half past ten, and in about an hour, the stock market will close. I'll come to you," Su Ziceng glanced at the time. This period was precisely when the securities market opened. It would be somewhat difficult to get Qiu Zhi to come out, as every second was precious. She might as well stay on campus a bit longer, perhaps she could find someone familiar.
She had only walked a few steps when she didn't see any familiar faces, but a familiar car indeed caught her eye. Standing in the middle of the road, Su Ziceng hesitated as the yellow Ferrari raced towards her, then abruptly stopped, and Hang Yishao leaned out of the car.
Compared to Su Ziceng's hesitation, his reaction was more direct. Hang Yishao cursed inwardly, wishing he had never agreed to the dean to supervise the humanities college students' dissertation defenses – what a mess now.
