Yan Song held Yun Ya's waist, helping her stand firm.
"Are you alright?"
Yun Ya shook her head: "I'm fine."
Yan Song raised his eyes, looking coldly at the woman in front of him.
She was a woman in her thirties, wearing a floral dress. The spare tire around her stomach obscured her waistline, and her permed and dyed golden hair glittered. She held a basket of groceries, exuding a sense of petty cunning and cheapness from head to toe.
After bumping into someone, she didn't even offer a word of apology, which earned her a lot of dirty looks from onlookers.
Especially from the impatient people queueing behind, "Please follow the rules, and line up, okay?" a middle-aged man said loudly.
The plump woman raised her thick eyebrows, turned her head, revealing a fleshy, oily face, and pointing at the man, hands on her hips, she cursed, "I'll cut in wherever I want, who are you to care?"
