Watching Zheng Wan, who had just been unable to stand up, running out of the boxing gym like his butt was on fire, stumbling and lurching along.
Yan Weiwei turned her head towards Meng Lang with a strange expression.
"Are you sure you're destined to cross paths with him, not destined to be enemies?"
"Not at all."
"Then do you have a grudge against his little girlfriend?"
"Even less so."
"Do you always sabotage others like this?"
"How can this be called sabotage? It's clearly because my technique is too skilled; you see, just a moment ago he was like a mess of mud, then suddenly he was walking briskly!"
Yan Weiwei immediately rolled her eyes.
His girlfriend wouldn't even answer his calls; if he didn't run, was he waiting to sing a farewell song to his own love?
"How are you going to explain this time? Is it the same old 'sugar after the bitter – it's for his own good' routine?"
