The girls speaking from the backseat were dressed to kill. Two wore low-cut tops and sheer black bodycon skirts, their makeup exquisite on their beautiful, oval faces. With their hair in buns, they had the air of Korean starlets. But they all rolled their eyes at Zhao Dong, their disdain palpable. When he glanced their way, they showed no trace of shame, instead staring back defiantly as if to say, Yeah? What are you going to do about it?
Zhao Dong gave them a deep look, decided they weren't worth his time, and turned away.
The girls immediately started whispering and snickering. "What a wimp. Can't even look at us, can he?"
"You can tell with one glance he's a nobody. Probably just some pretty boy that Song Qingwan is keeping."
"Exactly. He doesn't look like a big boss, so why the act? And Song Qingwan… she's just disgusting."
Song Qingwan heard them, and her expression soured. "Ignore that trash," Zhao Dong said calmly. "They're not worth it."
