"Mayor Sun, what's the honor?"
In a high-end beauty salon, Zhang Yan lay on the bed, with the beautician giving her a facial massage.
"Do you have time tonight? I'd like to treat you to dinner."
"Sure."
Zhang Yan also wanted to know how he was handling things.
Evening came quickly, and in the private room of a private restaurant, the waiter closed the door after serving the last dish.
Sun Jiajun hesitated, not saying anything useful for a long time.
He could endure it, and Zhang Yan didn't ask.
After they had almost finished eating, Sun Jiajun complained: "That Song Guanchao, he's quite alert."
Zhang Yan put down her chopsticks, sipped some tea and rinsed her mouth: "Didn't succeed?"
"No." Sun Jiajun shook his head and sighed, not wanting to elaborate on how Song Guanchao solved the issue, and Zhang Yan wasn't interested in the details.
