"Pfft—"
Through the phone, Mo Shangjun had a bad feeling.
As expected, the next moment, she heard the instructor's low and menacing voice—
"Captain Lang, I've already washed my face."
The anger and repressed irritability in his voice fell into her ears through the phone.
Mo Shangjun imagined the scene and, then, she could somewhat understand the instructor's mood at the moment.
"Instructor, here, wipe your face."
Lang Yan's stiff voice sounded, deliberately feigned obsequiousness mixed with a sense of discord.
Mo Shangjun touched her nose, hesitating whether to hang up the phone.
Then, she soon heard the instructor's cold inquiry, "What's going on, who are you talking to?"
"This…"
Lang Yan elongated the word, hesitating whether to explain the situation truthfully to the instructor and, by the way, let Mo Shangjun share some of the hatred value.
"Cough," Mo Shangjun lowered her voice and called out heavily, "Captain Lang."
"..."
There was silence on the other end.
