"It's getting late, and Jiaojiao has an appointment with Professor Frank at the hospital tomorrow, so we'll be taking our leave," Su Shuochi said apologetically.
He knew his wife was a kind soul; once the old sirs started with their sob stories, her heart would soften.
He was afraid that in a moment of soft-hearted impulse, she would produce all the equipment from the space at once.
It wasn't that he didn't want to benefit the public, but he preferred a slow, gradual rollout—two new models a year at most.
Even after they were designed, their release had to be plausible to avoid attracting the enemy's attention.
Not to mention the danger that comes with great talent. Knowing how that organization envied gifted individuals, constantly releasing new products would put their lives at risk.
"Oh, Jiaojiao has something tomorrow? In that case, you two should head home."
"Right. Jiaojiao, Shuo Ci, be careful on your way. We have a driver."
