"Well, it should take a while." He looked at Xinli with lustful eyes.
"Mr. Miyamoto knows my wife?" he said, hugging his wife without leaving any trace, feeling her knuckles cracking when she pressed them, soothing her and signaling her to be calm.
"We had a chance encounter a few years ago." Miyamoto's gaze became even more unscrupulous. It seemed that this Chinese man was not as good as the rumored Leng Ran. The waves behind the Yangtze River pushed the waves ahead, business elites, etc. The Chinese would exaggerate the facts.
It's a pity that such a delicate beauty should match him.
"Oh? If Xi remembers well, Mr. Miyamoto doesn't come to China often?" He raised his eyebrows, wanting to flatten him into a pig with one punch, but this would not have much effect. To kill the enemy, you must first manage and then attack.
Come on, he smiled without showing any trace, and then he would know the consequences of his wandering eyes.