Qiao Chengxun's stern and handsome face suddenly tensed into a hard iron slate.
"Damn woman, how dare she tell another man to use her phone to call him? What kind of trick is she playing now?"
Fury burned violently in his heart as he spoke with a deep voice, "What are you doing with my wife's phone?"
...
Tang Yuxin was so frightened by that question, cold as frost, that his back turned chilly.
Feeling a sense of crisis, he spoke politely, "Buddy, don't get me wrong, I just wanted to confirm if you are Qiao Chengxun or not."
"Who I am is none of your business, return the phone to her." His deep voice was violent, like a demon unleashed.
Even through the phone, Tang Yuxin could still feel an intangible pressure.
He hurriedly handed the phone back to Wen Meimei, "He wants you to take the call."
