"You talk as if without Fu Han, you could easily handle He Xing. That's not the case, right?" Xia Cheng snapped back without any courtesy.
It proved that it wasn't just women who had venomous tongues; when men did, they could be far more vicious.
Xia Ning was left speechless for a long while and ended up sitting on the sofa, huffing angrily.
On the contrary, Xia Cheng acted as if nothing had happened, took off his shoes, lay on the sofa, and continued to scroll through videos of beautiful women on his phone, the volume turned up high, utterly indifferent to Xia Ning's face, which was darker than the bottom of a pot.
The more Xia Ning thought about it, the angrier she became. Finally, she stood up abruptly, took her phone, and walked towards the door. She grabbed her coat and keys from the coat rack by the door and left without looking back.
