Dirty Things

"I-I-I…" Zhao Junkai stammered. He was finding it excruciatingly hard to find the appropriate things to say with Yang Feng's haunting stare. It was as if a shadow had reached out to forcibly seize his throat, clamping down on it, crushing his flesh, for Zhao Junkai could not find the strength in him to say anything more.

"P-please do not be angry, President Yang, there are a lot more benefits!" Zhao Junkai pleaded, his voice raising a level, capturing the eyes of the people at the table near them. He was embarrassed by his unruly behavior and lightly dropped his head a bit.

"How about this?" He wryly said, rubbing his hands together. "If there's any other relatives in the family, aside from her grandfather, that my niece does not have bad-blood with, it's me." He had heard rumors about how much of a damn prude Zhao Lifei was.