"They haven't settled it yet, and you two also insulted Xue Bingxue."
Xue Xiaochong bluffed and shouted, "What's it to you?"
Jiang Wei'er walked over, "Didn't you say he is my follower? You insulted my people, how can I not care?"
Jiang Wu was always not easy to mess with.
Xue Xiaochong showed a hint of fear, "Then, what do you want?"
She squatted down, "Skirts are such a hassle."
With a ripping sound, she tore off the hem of her skirt.
Xue Chenglang sneered, "Don't stoop to a woman's level, let's go."
Jiang Wei'er was not just any woman; she was the kind who could take on ten in the Taekwondo Hall.
As Xue Chenglang just turned around, he was hit on the back of the head—not with a bag this time, but with a ten-centimeter high heel. Jiang Wei'er stood barefoot on the granite floor, "Did I say you could leave?"
Xue Chenglang touched the back of his head, furious, "You motherf—"
A spin kick landed precisely on his mouth.
Finally, he shut up.
