Luo Jun took his hand off his head, crossed his fingers and said in a cold voice, "No matter who is standing behind him, as long as tonight's matter has anything to do with him, I will not let him go!"
Asang nodded slightly, "I know."
…
…
Zhuo's Villa.
Zhuo Ran, who came back from the celebration banquet, stretched out his legs and got out of the car and walked up the steps. A Chong followed him to the hall door. A Qiang walked to the door and checked the mailbox, took the things inside and flipped through them.
I noticed a postcard and immediately sent it to Zhuoran.
"Mr. Zhuo, there is a postcard in your mailbox."
When Zhuo Ran heard this, he immediately stopped and took the postcard from his hand.
The postcard was very ordinary, just the kind of card that foreign post offices often stock, such as national scenic spots - with the Eiffel Tower in Paris, France printed on it.
Zhuoran turned the postcard over and looked behind him.
On the back of the postcard was written his address and name, with only two words underneath.
"Congratulations."
There is no signature, no signature, and no address.
The address is in English, but the congratulations are in beautiful Chinese characters, which can fit into the paper.
"Isn't he your overseas fan?" Aqiang looked at the postcard and smiled, "I can find your home address. This fan is quite powerful."
Zhuoran smiled, said nothing, and just walked into the living room.
"It's getting late, so you should go back early. Find a way to hand over the work in the next two days, and then you can have a holiday." Zhuo Ran carefully put the postcard into his suit pocket, walked to the corner of the living room and picked up a paper bag, "
My mother asked someone to bring this back from Australia. She said it is the most suitable milk powder for newborn babies. You might be able to use it if you take it over."
Aqiang hurriedly took it with both hands, "Thank you, Mr. Zhuo, and please tell my aunt that my family and I are very grateful to her."
"Why are you so polite?" Zhuoran smiled back at him, "Go back early!"
Aqiang looked at his arm, "Is your injury a problem?"
"Don't worry, go back. I'm here!" Chen Chong smiled and patted Aqiang on the arm, "I'll stay and take care of Mr. Zhuo tonight."
"Sorry to trouble you." Aqiang smiled gratefully at him, "Then... I'll leave first. If anything happens, you two can call me at any time."
Zhuoran responded softly, and Aqiang walked out of the door and drove away.
"You haven't taken the medicine you were given yesterday, right? I'll get it for you?" Chen Chong asked.
"good."
Zhuoran responded softly and stepped up the stairs.
As he went upstairs, he took out the postcard and looked at the two words on it. The look on his face gradually turned serious.
Walking into the study, he took a half-used iron box from the bookshelf and opened it. Inside the box was a large pile of postcards.
There are all kinds of postcards, and the postmarks on them are also different. Sometimes they are from Northern Europe, sometimes they are from India... The ones at the bottom have become a little yellowed due to time.
The postcards are all ordinary postcards, nothing more than scenery, but the handwriting on the back is different, most of them are very brief.
For example, words like "Come on", or "Happy Birthday", "Merry Christmas"...etc.
All postcards have one thing in common, that is, they are not signed.
Sitting at the table, Zhuo Ran looked through the postcards one by one, and a moved expression gradually appeared on his face.
