Watching Yin Zheng burst through the door, his father shot him an annoyed glare and said, "You're a grown man now, yet you're still so impetuous. What kind of behavior is that?"
But Yin Zheng was thick-skinned. He paid no mind to his father's expression, plopped down nonchalantly in the seat across from him, and even snatched the cigarette pack his father had on the desk to light one for himself.
He took a drag and blew out a cloud of smoke, looking as smug as could be.
The sight made his father's temples throb, and he had half a mind to take off his belt and give Yin Zheng a taste of some "fatherly love."
"You'd better have something important to say, or I swear I'll let you have a taste of Pierre Cardin today."
"COUGH, COUGH!" Hearing that, Yin Zheng choked on his cigarette and started coughing uncontrollably.
He knew when to quit while he was ahead. He stubbed out his cigarette and explained, "You told me to call Su Chen, right? Well, it turns out he just got back."
