Ding Lan said these words without facing Song Di, because she had no idea if she had the capability to finish them if she did.
The words were bold and vulgar.
Song Di was dumbstruck, "Little fatty, you—"
In the middle of speaking, Ding Lan interrupted him, "Brother Song Di, okay, give the phone to Weilan."
"Little fatty—"
"Forget it, I'll call Weilan later, that's it. Bye." Ding Lan said and then promptly hung up the phone without hesitation.
Song Di listened to the dial tone, and his face darkened.
He quickly opened the phone, saw the recent number again, took out his own phone, and recorded the number.
"Hung up?" Weilan was astonished. She hadn't even spoken yet, and the call was already disconnected.
Song Di placed the phone on the sofa, his mind completely elsewhere.
With a schadenfreude smile, Weilan chimed in, "Song Di, karma's quick, isn't it? What did Ding Lan say to make you look so crestfallen!"
