Mr. Perfect Makeover

The arrival of Xiao Rufeng reassured He Fuming a lot. The sudden death of his wife caused many things to deviate from the original track and develop in an unpredictable direction. At this time, he chose to pin his hopes on Xiao Rufeng, There is no other way.

"Master Xiao, I'm looking forward to you, hey, who is this?" He Fuming looked at the handsome man beside Xiao Rufeng with some doubts.

"You have already met last time." Xiao Rufeng said lightly.

"Really?" He Fuming looked at Wu Xinran carefully, but still couldn't guess his real identity, "I don't know what your name is, sir?"

"Wu Xinran!"

"Ah, it turned out to be Wu, ah, ah, you are Master Wu?" He Fuming was slightly stunned. The image of Wu Xinran that day was clearly imprinted in his mind, and he couldn't associate it with the elegantly dressed man in front of him. .

Wu Xin suddenly nodded and chuckled, "Mr. He has a good memory."

"Where is it? It's Master Wu who surprises me every time. He really is a master." He Fuming tried hard to show admiration, but the tiredness in his eyes made people feel that there was more perfunctory.

Wu Xin didn't take it seriously, the joy and touch of this appearance had disappeared after that conversation, leaving more unexplained irritability.

"I deeply regret what happened to Mrs. He."

When He Fuming heard the words, his expression darkened, he shook his head, turned to Xiao Rufeng, and gasped, "Master, is Xiao Li's death related to that incident?"

"That matter?" Wu Xinran's eyes narrowed slightly, and his suspicious eyes turned to the man sitting beside him.

Xiao Rufeng raised his eyes halfway, and said in a cold voice, "Mr. He, are you questioning me?"

"No, it's not." He Fuming's aura was vented, and he hugged his head and slid on the sofa in a somewhat despondent manner, "I'm afraid, I'm afraid..."

"What are you afraid of? That incident should have nothing to do with you, right? Or did you actually participate in that incident?" Xiao Rufeng's voice was soft, but it stabbed He Fuming like a sharp thorn. nerve.

"I don't have one." He Fuming's eyes were tearing, he sat up from the sofa, and shouted in a hurry and panic: "I don't, I don't know anything."

Xiao Rufeng's eyes suddenly turned cold, "Since that's the case, what do you mean by your actions now?"

He Fuming was startled, then slowly fell to the ground, and said in despair: "But I killed that thing, um, that's right, that thing is already dead, it won't hurt me anymore, it won't, no I will..."

Wu Xin frowned suddenly, "Xiao Rufeng, he doesn't seem to be in a good condition."

Indeed, He Fuming didn't know what kind of nightmare he fell into. With fear in his eyes, he shrank himself in a corner of the sofa, muttering to himself incessantly.

"It's okay, it's just a way of self-suggestion." Xiao Rufeng said lightly.

"But..." Wu Xin suddenly felt that something was wrong after all, "What kind of riddles are you playing, what is He Fuming afraid of?"

Xiao Rufeng pointed upstairs, "Why don't you go up and have a look?"