Suizi was attentively waiting for the "undercover" informant's report.
As he diverted the conversation to fatty beef, a vein twitched on her forehead, her little fist pounding against his chest.
"Stop hitting me!" He gripped her fist, his cool handsome face cloaked in thin anger.
His large hand encapsulated her small fist, a slight effort enough to restrain her weak punches and kicks.
"Why are you mustering up the strength with a bulging stomach? What if you sprain something? If you're not satisfied, I'll hit myself." Saying so, he smacked his own face.
"Ah!" Suizi gasped, shocked.
The very next second.
"Ugh..."
"Why are you crying again?! So, I can't hit myself, either?"
Why was this broad so hard to soothe? Yu Jingting was lost.
"Who told you to hit yourself? Only I can hit you!" She had never hit his face, as that was a man's dignity.
