Looking at the sneering, twisted face of the young woman, Xiao Ming suddenly had a feeling as if only a day had passed in the mountains, but a thousand years had gone by in the world.
"How many days have we been staying in Qingyang?" he asked Qingfeng, turning his head.
"Today is the fifth day."
"So what's the deal with this damned woman? It's only been five days, has my uncle's reputation already fallen out of favor in Longyin?"
"Maybe this person has an even bigger background than you."
Xiao Ming laughed, watching as seven or eight burly men came off two Range Rovers, saying, "I hope so because I've been holding in a bellyful of fire with nowhere to vent it."
A middle-aged man with a crew cut and a face full of horizontal scars bent down to pick up the little boy, glanced coldly at Xiao Ming, walked over to the young woman, and asked, "How are you?"
"Husband, my face hurts so much, you must stand up for me and the baby!"
