Duan Yanqing nodded and left the bedroom.
Duan Pengcheng, massaging his temples, looked utterly exhausted. At last, he had brought his granddaughter back home. As for Duan Xinxin, he was in no hurry now; sooner or later, she was bound to return.
Duan Yanqing didn't stay at the villa; instead, she left the bedroom and drove away.
As for where she went, that remained unknown.
Ling Tianyu had also been outwitted. At first glance, Qing Ling didn't seem any different, and it was probable that even Duan Xinxin herself wouldn't have been able to recognize the discrepancies if she had come in person. The resemblance was uncanny; it was as if they were cast from the same mold.
Qing Ling's every move was exactly like Duan Yanran's, without a single discrepancy.