Li Xiwu sat in a chair in front of the window. The sketchbook lay open on her lap. She held up her phone and took a picture of the sketch she'd made that morning. Then she sent it to Qiao Qiao on WeChat. Just this photo. No words.
She waited a moment.
Qiao Qiao called. "Bae, who was that sketch portrait in the picture you just sent me?"
Li Xiwu pursed her lips. "Do you know him?"
Qiao Qiao said, "No, but… a little familiar."
Li Xiwu's chest tightened. "Familiar?" After a pause, Li Xiwu asked again, sounding noticeably more anxious than before, "Is he really familiar? Have you seen him?"
Qiao Qiao could hear the urgency in Li Xiwu's tone and guessed that she probably didn't know the picture Li Xiwu had sent her.
Qiao Qiao didn't dare to be perfunctory. She answered seriously, "It's just that he looks a little familiar. If you ask me who he is, I really can't say who he is. Perhaps he's a celebrity? Or a business powerhouse?"