Ye Xuan took a light step, exuding great strength, kicked the room door open, and stood coldly outside the Emperor Suite next door, staring sharply at the seven or eight youths in the private room, sneering, "Who just called the trash?"
"Haha."
The youth sitting in the main seat laughed faintly, a cold smile at the corner of his mouth. He drank a glass of wine, then slightly raised his head, looking at Ye Xuan with disdain, and finally said, "Do you think you're really strong?"
The youth had striking features, a lean face as if carved with a knife, sharply defined, small squinting eyes, some acne marks on his face, and very short hair, seeming very refined. His fingers were long and delicate, like those of a pianist, clearly a man pampered since childhood.
"So, the person who just called my landlord trash was you then?" Ye Xuan narrowed his eyes slightly, coldly looking at the youth in the room, laughing as he spoke.
"Yes."
