Song Heping, who thought he was very professional, quickly realized just how unprofessional he actually was.
A few minutes later, when the chef parked the car in the underground parking lot of the departure hall, Angel stood up and gave Song Heping a slap.
"You thug!"
Looking at the angry Angel, Song Heping shouted in his own defense, "I'm a thug? I'm a thug?! I—"
Just as he was about to question for the third time how exactly he'd been "thuggish" to this stupid bitch, he suddenly noticed a bright red lipstick mark on the crotch of his trousers.
What the fuck...
This ...
He was suddenly at a loss for words again.
This was like having mud in one's crotch: not shit, but might as well be shit.
The position he had pressed on earlier caused everything to seem suspicious.
