Zhao Yiming's lips curled into a smirk as he slowly rose from his seat. His fingers adjusted his collar like a CEO in a drama scene about to announce a hostile takeover as he approached the mother-daughter table.
"Excuse me?" Zhao Yiming said casually, voice smooth but edged with steel.
"I can't hear you mocking my friend over there. Mind raising your voice a little more?"
The mother didn't flinch. Her eyes narrowed, her expression twisted into something smug and poisonous.
"What more should I say? Your friend doesn't have any manners."
She gestured blatantly toward Xinya.
"Look at all the food she's hoarded and how she eats—it's like watching a bumpkin at her first buffet."
Other diners paused mid-bite, crab legs halfway to their mouths, ears perked and eyes shifting toward the scene. The quiet peeling of seafood was now background music to live drama.
Zhao Yiming kept calm, though the vein at his temple twitched.
