Very soon, Sato Kojiro's file came through. Wang Yue Qianxun handed the phone to Yang Xiao. A video was playing on it, very clear, with a middle-aged man at the center giving a speech.
The middle-aged man was in a suit and tie, looking every inch the business elite. It was none other than Sato Shouta's prideful father, Sato Kojiro.
After watching the video closely, Yang Xiao let out a long breath of stale air, then slowly closed his eyes. When he opened them again, the man in the rearview mirror had already become the spitting image of Sato Kojiro.
She had been prepared for this, but when it actually unfolded right in front of her, Wang Yue Qianxun still couldn't help being shaken. The strange feeling was beyond words.
"Miss Wang Yue, thank you for your hard work." Yang Xiao spoke—and what came out was unmistakably Sato Kojiro's voice. Even the cadence and the tiny micro-expressions in his face were almost identical, as if a dead man had climbed out of his grave.
