Qin Fen Was This Stubborn Mule, Blacklisted

That was Chef Qin in a nutshell: a real man with a prime minister's belly that could even capsize a boat. As for Zhang Shaokang, Qin Fen had nothing to say. Let me tell you one thing: go screw your uncle. That was already being generous. He hung up, feeling pretty good. As for thanking him, forget it. He was a damn man.

The already-quiet office building fell even quieter. The director's brow furrowed as he glared at Zhang Shaokang, itching to curse him out. Are you a pig? You actually turned on the speakerphone! Now they'd lost every last shred of face.

The corners of Director Chen's mouth twitched. He glanced around, and under his imposing gaze, the staff members conscientiously lowered their heads. They wanted to laugh but didn't dare. Today, Zhang Shaokang's dignity had been stomped into the floor.

"Haha, young people are bound to have a bit of a temper." Director Chen said that aloud, but he hated Zhang Shaokang to death inside. What the hell have you done? "Why don't you make the call?" With that, he looked toward the director.

"Me?" The director looked awful too. There was no denying that Qin Fen had a huge temper, but if he made the call, that temper would be directed at him.

Yet when one was beneath another's roof, one had to bow his head. At that moment, Qin Fen was like cream smeared over a pile of excrement: disgusting to look at, but fragrant all the same. He still had to force himself to approach. Damn you, Zhang Shaokang. Just wait.

"Make the call, then." The director had nothing else to say. He immediately pulled out his phone and dialed Qin Fen's number. The moment the call connected, he hurried to speak.

He was afraid