She remembered how he had tried to hit on her because she was flat-chested.
He had essentially treated her like a man—and that was even more insulting to her than calling her flat-chested.
She floored the gas pedal. The car roared past Ding Ming and sped away. Ding Ming, who was still being molested, had not even had the time or presence of mind to see who was inside the car. If it weren't for the knife against his stomach, he would have puked his guts out by now.
The molester had removed Ding Ming's belt, and was now caressing the skin on his hips. Ding Ming felt his throat close up. He wished the man would go away soon. He wanted only to put as much distance between himself and this man molesting him.
At the same time, he vowed he would never forgive this man for humiliating him in such a manner. I'm going to kill this man, he thought to himself, if it's the last thing I do.
Suddenly, a bright light shone into his eyes.
