Ying Zenan was worried that Ying Jing might have to wait too long.
He greeted some acquaintances and intended to take his sister along to leave.
But before he could call her, he overheard her gossiping about him with others.
It was originally no big deal.
But mentioning Wen Fucheng was off-limits.
Ying Zenan tugged at the decorative ribbon on Ying Jing's dress.
"Feeling bold, huh? Dare to speak ill of me behind my back, need some disciplining."
Caught red-handed on the spot, there wasn't even time to run.
"Bro, give me some face!"
Her dress, her little dress, please don't tear it, it was a gift from her husband.
Not seeing it is fine, but eight times out of ten this makes her angry.
"Ying Jing, why don't you just call yourself Ying Duidui, look at what you do all day long."
