In the evening.
A man and a woman argued in low voices in an old neighborhood in Beijing.
"Didn't I say not to expose Pengfei's face? How can he face his peers in the future?"
Tian Dali was furious. His fists were clenched, and the veins on his neck bulged. His face was red as he shouted at the woman.
Wang Guifen was counting money with saliva-stained hands. She did not even look up as she impatiently said, "So you know how to save face now? Who asked you to owe so much money? If I wasn't forced to, would I use our kid to extort others?"
Tian Dali was rendered speechless. He rubbed his hands and walked around the narrow room in the rental house.
Then, he snatched the money and glared at her. "This is the last time. You're not allowed to let the reporters interview Pengfei again!"
