"Mr. Zhu, I just received a report from the control center, the car lost control and crashed into the bollard at the end of the runway."
The co-pilot of the Boeing airliner walked into the cabin and reported to Zhu Hong.
"Are the people okay? Is anyone hurt?" Before Zhu Hong could speak, Nanrong Wanqing had already asked impatiently.
"I don't know, there's no news just yet, but at that speed, even if it were a man of steel, he couldn't have survived."
Seeing Nanrong Wanqing slumped in her seat with a deathly pale face, Zhu Hong waved his hand, signaling for the co-pilot to step away.
"Wanqing, I know you're upset, but..."
"Shut up!" Nanrong Wanqing looked coldly at Zhu Hong and said word by word, "If I ever had the slightest expectation or fondness for you, now all you do is make me feel disgust and hatred. Compared to Ling Chen, you're nothing but a despicable wretch."
