"What I mean is, not only will I not leave, but I will also successfully hold a wedding with Fu Yanye and would appreciate it if you could be more courteous to the young mistress of the Fu Family afterward."
Zhuo Jian decisively told him.
Lin Jiaoyang's hand, which was holding her shoulder, suddenly increased its force, pushing her into the corner of the wall: "Jian, that man Fu Yanye will not be your best destination."
"But ten Director Lins are not comparable to one Fu Yanye."
Zhuo Jian coldly returned.
Fu Yanye, upon leaving the elevator, saw Lin Jiaoyang pinning Zhuo Jian against the wall.
When Zhuo Jian saw him arrive, she silently breathed a sigh of relief and looked at Lin Jiaoyang: "You're about to get beaten up again."
"What?"
Lin Jiaoyang questioned before hearing footsteps behind him and instinctively turned around.
But before he could see anything clearly, Fu Yanye quickly stepped forward, grabbed him, and his firm fist immediately connected with his cheek.
