Feng Lin leaned back in his seat, closed his eyes, and didn't bother with the man.
"Little brother, can't we? If you don't agree, I'll be angry!"
Xiu Ke kept talking at Feng Lin, incessantly.
"Who are you? Why should I switch seats with you?" Feng Lin was getting impatient.
Some female fans around them heard this and immediately objected.
"Who's this bumpkin? You've never heard of the Dance King of Asia?"
"Exactly! Xiu Ke is a Korean mixed-race, clearly a young master, yet he works so hard."
"It's almost the 22nd century, and there's still someone who doesn't know Xiu Ke? What, does your village not have internet?"
…
Hearing the fans defending him, a look of disdain flashed across Xiu Ke's face.
However, he quickly covered it up.
He bowed apologetically to Feng Lin, "I'm sorry, it's all my fault.
When faced with such a situation, a simple apology would do.
