The loud slap, the numbing hand, the person consumed with anger—if this beautiful house had life, it would certainly be dissatisfied with what happened today.
Shi Jingzhou's cigarette had fallen onto his trousers, and he calmly pulled it away, his tongue pressing against his cheek that had grown somewhat numb from the hit. He lightly flicked the cigarette ash that had fallen on his pants and looked up faintly.
Qiao Zhiyi clenched her hand, taking a glance to see her palm reddening.
"Do you think any man can tolerate being slapped in the face by a woman?" Shi Jingzhou asked in his dark, angry voice, as he struggled to contain the emotions she had raised.
This was not the first time she had slapped him.
Yet, she remained the first woman who dared to smack him across the face.