"You little girls, I have given you enough respect by pouring wines and you all refuse to give me any face. Where do you put me?"
Ling Qingyu turned toward the source of the voice. It was the wealthy fat man sitting around their table. Here came the problem—Que Sera, sera. What will be, will be.
She initially thought this man had some self-knowledge, except for his uncomfortable forceful taking of the seats, and understood the women around her had no interest at all.
It appeared she judged wrong. From his expression, it seemed he couldn't bear any longer.
"I don't understand, what your excellency means." Ling Qingyu breathed deeply and said without losing a smile. But her pupils chilled ever so than before. People around felt the temperature dropped and something was amiss.
"Stop being pretentious," The man said. "You and I both know what I mean. Do you know who I am?"
