"Not talking anymore? How much do you want?" Ye Feimo asked with a smirk, thinking to himself: Dead girl, I refuse to believe I can't handle you. You're always chirping annoyingly, yet you've started jumping around after only a few days without discipline.
Wen Nuan continued to feign death, fantasizing in her heart about Anning International going bankrupt soon, so she could triumphantly step on his face with her bare foot.
Music started playing, and the men began dancing with their female companions.
A woman approached Ye Feimo to ask him to dance. She was exquisitely made-up, tall, and wearing a black dress with ruffled edges, her beauty cold and intimidating. Wen Nuan didn't recognize her, and Ye Feimo's brows furrowed coldly, "I'm not free."
The woman was taken aback, then glared at Wen Nuan fiercely before sashaying away.
"Damn, I get shot even when I'm lying down," Wen Nuan couldn't help but blurt out a swear word.
