"Can you all shut up now?" At that moment, a chill like that of an iceberg emanated from Luo Bing. She continued, "Yes, my boyfriend is a typist, and he works under me. But so what? Compared to you filthy rich second-generation heirs, he's a thousand times better. Looking at you all makes me want to puke!"
Luo Bing's voice was powerful, and having a typist as a boyfriend—was it so disgraceful? Luo Bing didn't think so. At least, Xiao Tianyu's character was far superior to these people.
So what if he's a typist? Is a typist not a person?
These people act all high and mighty, but in reality, they're just spoiled brats taking advantage of their fathers' stinking wealth. Do they have the right to belittle Xiao Tianyu? Do they have the right to look down on a typist? What a joke.
Oh my god, is Luo Bing's boyfriend really a typist? Did I hear that right? With Luo Bing's status, she could find anyone, yet she chose a typist. It's like a flower stuck in cow dung.
