Gong Beiyao lazily curled the corners of his lips, speaking with a nihilistic playfulness,
"After all, isn't this what you want? You want a living-dead puppet to manipulate as you please. What does it matter what I do? In the end, as long as I complete all the tasks you've arranged for me, that's good enough, right?"
"You—you're driving me insane!" Chairman Gong said angrily, "Do you think you're still a rebellious teenager in your puberty? After this year, you'll be twenty-four! Can't you be a little more mature?"
"If I can't even choose my own life partner, can't I at least pick a few flowers?" Gong Beiyao said indifferently, glancing at Ou Yimo, "Look, Miss Ou isn't even angry, so why are you, old man?"
"You damned bastard!"
A walking stick swung toward Gong Beiyao.
The walking stick landed on the round table, shattering a wine glass upon impact.
The woman was so frightened that she panicked.
Gong Beiyao, however, sat there without moving an inch.
