"I'm not in Yan City." Tang Song's voice carried a hint of amusement, "I'm in New York."
"Huh?!"
Lu Ziming's mind went blank for a moment, and the hand that was buttoning his shirt suddenly stopped, "You're in New York? When did you get here? Why didn't you say anything beforehand?"
As soon as he finished speaking, a light bulb went off in his head, and his eyes widened instantly, blurting out a national expletive:
"Damn! You're not the colleague Yuyan mentioned, are you?!"
"Colleague?" Tang Song on the other end of the line paused noticeably, then chuckled lightly, "Well... you could say that."
The sound of this laugh made Lu Ziming's teeth ache.
