"Bastard."
CRASH!
With a fierce shove, Han Ling overturned the table, shattering countless bottles of beer, red wine, and fine spirits. His face was exceptionally grim, and veins throbbed violently on his forehead.
"AH!"
Startled by Han Ling's sudden outburst and splashed with alcohol, the young woman in the schoolgirl uniform let out a piercing scream.
"Shut up!" SMACK!
With a sharp backhand, Han Ling slapped the woman across the face. Still seething, he clenched his fists, his expression ominous, and vented his remaining frustration by smashing more bottles of champagne and red wine.
"What's wrong with him?"
"What should we do?"
"Can we leave?"
Watching the furious Han Ling, the models who had been on the catwalk now huddled in a corner. With panic-stricken faces, they watched him, their hearts pounding with fear.
Although they didn't know what the Han Family of Yanjing was, Han Ling's demeanor made it clear he was not someone they could afford to provoke.
