In a high-end private clubhouse in the capital city, Wei Shengjin sat on the sofa with a face full of gloom, his eyes flickering with a chilling glare that could pierce the soul.
Wei Shengjin had lived for more than twenty years, and he had never felt this humiliated before.
Being bullied by Qin Rumeng was one thing, he had endured it; after all, Qin Rumeng didn't single him out—80% of the spoiled young heirs in the capital had been tormented by her at some point.
But Ye Xunhuan had gone a step further, ruthlessly humiliating him, treating him like a flower delivery boy, and right before his eyes, handed his flowers to Tang Yurou.
Thinking of the 120 yuan Ye Xunhuan shoved into his hands, the anger in Wei Shengjin's heart flared wildly, spreading unchecked to every corner of his body.
What infuriated him even more was Ye Xunhuan saying, in that damn tone of his, that next time he'd come to him for flowers again.
