Si Chen was not good at shooting and had little interest in gunplay. He watched as Li Beijue set down the handgun and picked up a sniper-style rifle to toy with. Bored, he poured himself a glass of red wine and leaned against the bar counter, asking, "By the way, Beijue, you've been out for three months, any news?"
He didn't specify what news or who would have the news, just a general inquiry for any news.
The man with the sniper-style hunting rifle paused his slender fingers, then rested the gun on the counter, leaned forward to aim at the target, and fired—One Shot!
Incredibly precise!
When a man played with guns, it was the time when his male hormones were at their strongest, also supposedly when he was at his most masculine.
He was also incredibly handsome, a nobility beyond words.
Even more dazzling and eye-catching, the woman who was walking over blushed at the sight of him.
Li Beijue put away the rifle, dismissively tossed it aside, and bluntly criticized, "Trash!"
