Yang Peijun read the letter at a glance.
Yang Peiying watched his face, the way his eyebrows raised, lips curled, and brows furrowed, the transformations of his facial expressions seemed agonizing to watch.
She had never been very brave, and although she had toughened up recently and was no longer as timid, she still felt a deep reverence when facing her demonically spirited third brother.
At last, Yang Peijun crumpled the letter into a ball and threw it to the ground, stomping on it a few times.
He cursed, "To hell with that damn loser, the little bastard! As if he could mess with someone's daughter with his muddy background; he doesn't even take a look at himself! He's utterly worthless!"
Yang Peiying was so startled by his outburst that she was somewhat at a loss.
After his string of curses, Yang Peijun picked up the paper ball and walked inside.
Seeing Yang PeiMin drawing design sketches, he angrily threw the paper ball onto her desk, "Look at this crap!"
