[I've been blunt since I was little, so I generally say what's on my mind. Song Wenjing, please remember you're from Z Country. Please don't copy those sleazy Japanese bastards.]
[Buddy, how about being a little more tactful? That's some seriously filthy trash talk. (Nine-turn pork intestines x3)]
[Why isn't Lin Yuxuan laughing? Is it because he can't imitate Song Wenjing's low-IQ look? Be good, let's not learn that brain-rotting walk. You'd look like a traitor.]
[You guys... that's seriously vicious. Song Wenjing would lose it if he saw this and have to prove his patriotism.]
[I really want to crack Song Wenjing's head open and see which nerve he used to come up with such a bizarre walk.]
[What's that sticking out of Song Wenjing's back? Please zoom out. I don't want a clear look. It's kind of scary!]
[(Terrified x3) What the hell is that?! Don't come any closer!!! I don't want to see that thing clearly!]
"Hahahaha!!! Who in the world can rival me?! This is an emperor! Only an emperor could be this awesome!"
"Ah! How can there be an emperor as handsome, talented, and charming as me?! It's just... too embarrassing!"
With the net bag slung over his shoulder, Song Wenjing stood before everyone in what he considered a dashing pose, one hand against his forehead, his eyes confidently shut.
Lin Yuxuan glanced at Song Wenjing and stood beside him with his head lowered, saying nothing.
Zhou Zhichu turned his head and stared at Song Wenjing for a moment. His gaze instantly turned horrified, and he silently backed away, not forgetting to protect the condiments on the table. He hugged his bowl and kept inching backward.
Gu Zijin's gaze traveled upward from Song Wenjing's thighs all the way to his shadow, and he silently swallowed.