"Your woman?!"
Upon hearing that, Qin Haoran, clutching his hand with the twisted bone, stood up from the sand. He looked at the man who had suddenly appeared in sunglasses before him. He glanced briefly at Su Li beside him, who was shedding big tears, and then burst into laughter. "Ahahaha, what kind of international joke is this? Is she your woman? Your woman would cry for me because of a broken hand?!"
Damn, who is this dumbass hitting so hard? All the skills I've developed over these years couldn't withstand it—he twisted my hand so easily...
"Who… Who said I'm crying for you because of a broken hand?"
At those words, Su Li's pale face instantly flushed with anger. Without a second thought, she stepped forward and retorted. Though she spoke to Qin Haoran, her eyes seemed to linger unintentionally on Ye Mu's sunglass-shrouded face. She didn't want him to misunderstand, "Qin Haoran, don't talk nonsense, I have nothing to do with you—not even in the slightest!"