And she was indeed different from the rest. From head to toe, from her hair to her fingernails, she exuded elegance and personality.
If it was someone else, Song Zishan would have exclaimed that there was actually a woman who knew how to dress up. But now, she only wanted to throw the book in her hand, flip the table, and leave.
But she could not do that.
She could not afford to lose face.
Their gazes met in mid-air, and in the blink of an eye, they had already fought hundreds of rounds.
Song Zishan's eyes were burning with anger, and her face was flushed red. She tried her best to resist the urge to vomit blood. She felt that her 24 years of life had been ruined today.
Su Wen was indeed her mortal enemy.
"Miss Song, nice to meet you." Su Wen suddenly stood up from her seat. She was the center of attention and had been sitting all this while. Now that she suddenly stood up, she naturally attracted everyone's attention.
