Zhang Baomian spread his hands, his face innocent, yet it was as if he had the situation completely under control, savoring the moment.
Ding Hui was bewildered, Song Qianlong faced the immense power and was helplessly furious, even the thunder clouds boomed in the sky and heavy rain poured down, seemingly tailor-made for him, bringing him extreme pleasure and joy.
Is this... the sensation of having power?
Hui Yao, you old bastard! You've indulged for so many years, and now it's Young Master's turn to relish!
Zhang Baomian slowly closed his eyes, discarded the oil-paper umbrella beside him, and reveled in the rain, displaying an intoxicated look, like a madman.
Ding Hui couldn't comprehend what was wrong with this guy.
