"How did you come here?" Qiao Jing asked, puzzled.
"I've come to pick you up and take you home," Zhan Qipei replied in the most casual tone.
Their conversation sounded so natural, so seamless. It was just like the most ordinary of days for ordinary people, simple and plain, filled with the mundane tasks of daily life.
The three plump women were all staring dumbfounded at this scene, their mouths agape wide enough to fit a fist.
Moments later, they were so embarrassed they wished they could each find a mouse hole to crawl into.
Especially the plump woman who had just been boasting to Qiao Jing about her uncle, claiming he earned an annual salary of five hundred thousand and suggesting that her own husband's uncle might not even deem her worthy.
It was a real slap in the face!
Qiao Jing's husband made a grand entrance with not one but nine Maybachs, accompanied by numerous valiant and extraordinary bodyguards.