Jun Mochan lay on the sofa, bruised and gasping for breath, in no better shape than Zhou Xian.
"Feeling better now?" Zhou Xian asked.
Jun Mochan nodded and glanced at him, "You've lost your touch."
Zhou Xian: "..." Clearly, the old master is still sharp.
Chu Ji had already walked inside the bar, pouring himself a drink, "Do you guys want any?"
Jun Mochan picked up his clothes from the floor and stood up, "No, you all enjoy, put the drinks on my tab."
That's what they were waiting for, so they didn't hold back and began calling friends.
Sitting in the car, Jun Mochan rolled down the window, letting the night breeze clear his head.
The driver silently observed him through the rearview mirror, not daring to make a sound.
Moments like these with Jun Mochan were rare, but they always signified his anger.
In the Jun family mansion, Ye Ranran stood on the balcony, looking into the distance.
Ever since Jun Mochan left, she'd been contemplating whether she'd done something wrong.
