"Brother Jiang Che, did Sister agree to help?"
In the living room, Lu Sirong's complexion looked somewhat unnatural as she asked with a tinge of concern, "Just now the Fourth Master went there; he didn't give you a hard time, did he?"
Asking this undoubtedly was like rubbing salt in Jiang Che's wounded pride; he glared at her fiercely.
"Shut up and go!"
Caught off guard by his shout, Lu Sirong turned pale, her small hands involuntarily clenching into fists.
The more time she spent with him, the clearer she could see the incompetence and cowardice hiding beneath Jiang Che's facade.
Whenever he faced Yu Chiyin, he turned into a fragile "egg," venting any grievances he suffered onto her.
He was far inferior to the Fourth Master...
As this thought surfaced, Lu Sirong's suppressed jealousy was awakened, only to be quashed the next second.
What good was being impressive when one was a short-lived ghost, not expected to survive three years?
