Song Yu'en glanced backward, following Wen Sheng's gaze. Noticing Fu Yanlin was out of sight, Song Yu'en couldn't help but scorn in his heart: What a coward, who can't even stay put.
He turned back, feigning an innocent query to Wen Sheng, "Sister-in-law, what are you looking at? Are you searching for someone?"
"Nothing really," Wen Sheng replied with a slight smile, "What a coincidence, Mr. Xiaosong."
"Sister-in-law, didn't expect you to be here—" Before Song Yu'en could finish, Zhu Qingjia interrupted him, "Who are you blindly calling sister-in-law?"
Song Yu'en shrugged, remembering the night when Zhu Qingjia was holding a golf club, ready to thrash Fu Yanlin, instantly made him cringe. He quickly apologized, "Sorry, old habits die hard."
What old habit? He admitted to himself that he was purposefully provoking.
Although Fu Yanlin was slightly deplorable, he was still a comrade. So, he had to back him up.
