```
"Asshole."
Xu Qingyan didn't know that the doll took a punch that could shatter the heavens and the earth for him; he was smug about snagging a Meituan coupon for twelve yuan.
Although he rarely ordered takeout, he always had the habit of treating others to drinks.
In the afternoon, the airport.
Xu Qingyan met the up-and-coming director, Wei Wufeng, whose name exuded dominance. True to his name, the man looked tall, thin, and fair-skinned, with gold-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.
Dressed like a scholarly ruffian, he looked professional.
"Hello," Xu Qingyan stepped forward to shake hands, taking the initiative, "I'm Xu Qingyan, welcome to Xinghai."
"Mhm, Wei Wufeng."
Xu Qingyan thought it was a good name; it would definitely suit a protagonist in a horror film. Someone like Zhang Qiling—cool, handsome, a man of few words, but quick to handle affairs.
