Ning Fan's gaze was icy cold as he looked at the emotionally out-of-control Fu Ziming. With a cold snort, he showed no concern for the revolver that Fu Ziming pressed against his temple. He slapped Fu Ziming across the face!
"Slap!"
The crisp sound of the slap was particularly jarring in the oppressive atmosphere of the office.
"You dare to hit me?"
Grinding his teeth, Fu Ziming looked at Ning Fan's eyes in disbelief and said word by word, "Don't push me. Do you believe I would shoot you dead right now?"
A smirk lifted the corners of Ning Fan's mouth as he looked at Fu Ziming, who clearly exuded a ferocity that was all bark and no bite. He snorted coldly and pointed at his own temple,
and said, "Push you? So what if I did? You think you're tough, don't you? You like hitting women, don't you? You have a gun, don't you? Come on then, shoot me!"
"Shoot me in the head, come on, if you have the guts, do it!"
