Zhao Lang had never anticipated that the bravado he had shown earlier would come back to punch him in the chest that very night.
With a "boom," he started the car again, this time gunning it to 120 mph.
The words he sneered were torn to shreds by the wind sneaking in through the gaps in the windows.
But Jiang Li still made out what he was saying—
"Jiang Li, let me tell you, don't even think about it."
"He Pingzhang is already 47 this year, he's lost the ability to have children, he can't provide you with offspring, let alone those advantages you just mentioned!"
Jiang Li: "...."
No way.
Is 47 really that old?
Is a man's prime really so short?
However, Jiang Li also tasted some sweetness.
Right after she said those words, Zhao Lang drove to their house in less than ten minutes, nearly causing the security guards to call the police.
But when Jiang Li tried to twist open the car door several times and failed, she had no choice but to glare at Zhao Lang again.
