Behind us, a black Rolls-Royce was following us with ill intent.
Don't ask me how I could tell a car had ill intentions—I admit, cars don't have thoughts, but if seeing Liu Zicai sitting in the driver's seat didn't make me think the person had bad intentions, then I really would be a bit dense.
Although I didn't know what they intended to do, one thing was for sure, this guy definitely didn't harbor any good intentions—and that could be seen just from the expression on their face.
Sandora, Qianqian, and I exchanged glances and tacitly came to a conclusion: this was going to be fun!
Earlier at Lin Xue's place, we had constantly ignored Liu Zicai's provocations, partly because we didn't take him seriously, and more importantly, to save face for Lin Xue.
After all, we were guests at someone else's home, and it would have been extremely rude to stage a full-blown fight there.
