The program recording abruptly stopped after the first round of the rice cake segment competition.
Lunch break.
Backstage, with a loud bang, Wei Zhong slammed the door and sat on the sofa in the private lounge, his expression terrifyingly gloomy.
After a while, the coldness slightly withdrew from his brows.
Wei Zhong finally calmed down.
"It can't be wrong!"
His eyes fixedly looked at his right hand, two fingers were still tense and shaking. After roughly watching for six or seven minutes, Wei Zhong dug out his phone from his pocket and dialed a number noted as "Godfather" in the contacts.
It took several tries before the call went through.
"Hello..."
"Master, it's me!"
"I know it's you, otherwise I wouldn't have answered. How's that matter going?"
The old and deep voice became more rapid when mentioning that matter, showing his concern.
Wei Zhong took a deep breath and said, "I have something important to report to you!"
"Hmm?"
"It's like this..."
