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Birth determines status.
Your social circle decides the kind of people you meet.
Whether it's Gu Jiangnian or Ji Yanting, neither of their circles ever included any vulgar women. Heiresses from rich families, even if they were infuriated to death, would care about their face.
So today,
when Ji Yanting, who was dealing with the traffic police, heard that blatant curse behind him, he couldn't help but be astonished.
He turned around to look.
He saw Jiang Muwan just put away her phone, rage written all over her face, unable to hide it.
"Cursing someone's ancestors?" Ji Yanting, seeing that the curse came from Jiang Muwan, couldn't help but find it amusing, and casually threw in this remark.
Jiang Muwan heard him, turned back, and faced Ji Yanting's eyes brimming with amusement. She rolled her eyes to the sky and heaved a heavy sigh.
She steadied her emotions.
Don't get angry, don't get angry. That damn man isn't worth her anger.
