Chapter 862 Bruce Zong

As soon as she pushed the door open, Sharon Lin saw a shadow in front of the desk.

There was a white light on in the room, and it was quiet. And a large desk, with brush pen, ink on it, was in the center of the wide room.

John Zong liked writing.

At this moment, the person who often bowed to write at the table was no longer there.

Sharon walked over. The black ink in the inkstone on the table had dried up. She looked at the man sitting in front of the table, hesitated,...