Su Xingyu stood elegantly on the stage, a slight smile at the corner of her pale cherry lips, her gaze confidently directed toward Zhuang Heng below the stage.
Zhuang Heng's expression couldn't hold, her face as icy as frost, gripping a wine glass tightly, her knuckles pale as if she might crush it.
Seeing her burning with rage, Su Xingyu smiled again: "The field of photography is like rowing upstream, not advancing is retreating. There are always more people, always higher skies. Thank you to Mr. Yang and all my colleagues for your affirmation. I will continue to maintain a diligent work attitude and never become complacent and inactive because of a little achievement."
Her words had a hidden barb, and many people caught it, secretly admiring her boldness, no wonder she was Lu Shifeng's girlfriend.
At the photography center's table, Yun Xi was indignant: "Hah, bitch, who is she cursing?"
But she didn't have a microphone, so few people heard her indignation.
