Wu Zetian glanced at the plump hand grasping his sleeve, a disdainful frown forming, "Luoluo, lend me a needle for a second."
In the puzzled eyes of those around, Eldest Young Master Wu held up a slender needle and stabbed it straight into the plump hand, "Ouch…" Wang Yanli cried out in pain as she retracted her hand, blood beads oozing out. Just as she was about to lash out, remembering the identity of the other party, she hastily smiled ingratiatingly, "Boss, please don't lower yourself to the level of an ignorant woman like me, give my husband a chance, please."
Wu Zetian waved the needle in front of her face: "Keep talking, and I'll turn your mouth into a wasps' nest, believe it or not?"
Just then, a man about forty years old rushed in, ran up to Mrs. Miao, and started examining her up and down, "Cui Feng, are you alright?"
"Why are you here?" asked Mrs. Miao, puzzled.
