"Ambition." Ding Long raised his hand and tapped Ding Jinshi on the head, "Why not say you'll kill me?"
"I'm not capable, so even if I wanted ambition, it's useless." Ding Jinshi pursed her lips. Ding Long, after all, was a retired soldier. She wanted to kill Ding Long? Ha, she's not that overconfident, is she? Ding Long could flick her from East Street to West Street with just a pinky.
After drying her hair, Ding Jinshi returned to her room. At nine, Ding Long brought a cup of hot milk to Ding Jinshi, said goodnight, took the empty glass out, and went straight back to her room, dialing the assistant with only one sentence, "Check who Ding Jinshi interacted with today."
Two days later, it was the weekend. Ding Jinshi waited at Ding Long's door early in the morning. After drinking honey water, while Ding Long was making breakfast, she stood by, constantly glancing at Ding Long.
