"Uh..."
Nolan Yanran stopped and gazed at Lin Fan with a ghostly look, then glanced at the angry middle-aged man beside her.
"Brother Lin Fan, should we... should we just leave?"
"What, you're full?" Lin Fan asked with a smile.
"Not yet..."
Nolan Yanran gazed at the table full of delicacies, sticking out her small tongue like a gluttonous ghost.
"Then keep eating, why leave?" Lin Fan chuckled.
Disregard!
A complete disregard for the middle-aged man beside them!
"Hiss!"
At the scene, once again, a chorus of sharp intakes of breath could be heard.
This was no longer the bravado of a calf unconcerned by the tiger; it was more like laying a bedroll beside a cesspit, a blatant courting of death!
"Seeking death! Kneel down and admit your guilt to my young master!"
The middle-aged man shouted lowly, stretching out a large hand towards Lin Fan's throat.
He was ready, to firmly clasp Lin Fan's throat, to make him understand what regret meant!
"Slap!"
