"Lian Qiao, get the fuck back here!"
Rolling again, you big-headed ghost!
Seething inside, Lian Qiao was even less inclined to look back, yet she stopped in her tracks, her voice stripped of its usual tenderness and void of that habitual smile, but as chilling as his.
"Xing Liehuo, remember this—I, Lian Qiao, can tolerate you hitting me, but I will never forgive you for humiliating my friend in front of me!"
A friend?!
Damn those bullshit friends! At this moment, Xing Liehuo's heart was brimming with all sorts of intense negative emotions.
He was thoroughly enraged, feeling deeply insulted in front of a respected mentor, as if his pride, especially as a proud man, had been deeply wounded.
How important was face to him, anyway? Anyone who knew him had never seen him so crazed before.
"Take another fucking step, and believe it or not, I'll cripple him?"
Finally turning around, Lian Qiao saw his face twisted with malevolence, and she smiled seriously.
