This time, Qiao Jing had no choice but to take a few steps back, as coldness gradually crept into her brows and eyes.
"Wu Xirui, I'm telling you one last time, get out," she said.
Her indifferent voice carried an assertiveness that brooked no arguments, her phoenix eyes coldly fixed on Wu Xirui.
Wu Xirui was shaken by the aura emanating from Qiao Jing; it was the first time he had seen her angry.
Far from being afraid, he was actually more excited, a pathological gleam flashing in his peach blossom eyes.
"Do you really want to fight me? In fact, I'm quite looking forward to seeing you try," he said.
He took a few steps forward again, and just as he was about to reach Qiao Jing, the door of the resting room was flung open once more.
A tall figure strode in rapidly, quickly getting in front of Qiao Jing and grabbing Wu Xirui's hand.
