This stinky lady really takes herself seriously. I owe Shen Zheliang humanity, not Tan Yanju. They are family members. But if she wants to suppress me in the name of Shen Zheliang, her father-in-law, she is wrong.

If she doesn't pick up, I won't.

Lying in the hotel bed, resting for about an hour, the sky is getting late, and the cell phone on the bedside cabinet is ringing. It's Tan Yanju who called. I thought about it, or answered it.

"Son of a bitch, isn't he dead yet?" As soon as I got through, Tan Yanju's angry voice came.

This woman's mouth is really not pumping, no, what must...