I Can Do It

Chapter 92

Ding-ge didn’t expect to be caught by the very people he was trash-talking, which was a rare occasion in and of itself.

He cleared his throat. “I wasn’t being serious—”

“Come on, as if I don’t know you?” PUD’s manager had lost their last battle over the phone, so he definitely wasn’t going to let this one go now that he had the upper hand. “It’s one thing for you to curse us into missing our ults and sleepwalking, yet you’re also cursing us into getting diarrhea! You’re such a malicious person! Cruel and merciless!!!”

Jian Rong lowered his head and made to take the incense that Ding-ge was handing over, but when he reached out, he grasped nothing but air.

Ding-ge also gripped the incense and counterattacked. “Yes, I’m malicious, but it’s not like you’re any better?”

PUD’s manager: “What about me?! You’re going to make false accusations again, huh!”

“Then you tell me, why exactly are you here? To beg for rain?” Ding-ge hit the nail on the head. “I refuse to believe that you didn’t curse a defeat onto us!”

The PUD manager, who had just taught Savior in the car to wish for “Soft getting banned from competing for flaming someone before the match,” felt his face redden. “—of course I didn’t!”

Ding-ge sneered. “Not having the guts to own up to your actions, what kind of middle-aged man are you.”

PUD’s manager pushed up his glasses. “You should take a look at yourself first. A mature middle-aged man wouldn’t teach a child to curse other people.”

Jian Rong listened to them, speechless. The disdain in his eyes was extremely obvious.

What kind of childish insult war was this? If these two people were tossed into his stream, they would have a layer of their skin peeled off of them in less than two minutes by those flamers.

However, miraculously, the grumpiness that he had suppressed the entire trip over seemed to have largely dissipated.

He was about to take a step back to create some distance between him and those two primary school brats when someone wrapped a hand around his wrist.

As usual, Lu Boyuan’s eyes had turned into monolids in the morning. When he looked down, it made him seem somewhat cold and detached.

He split his own incense into two halves and placed one bundle into Jian Rong’s hand. “Let’s pay our respects first. We still have to visit a few other halls.”

It was bright and early in the morning, so all the visitors couldn’t help but glance in their direction.

Two middle-aged men, one with his hands planted on his waist, the other with his arms crossed, bickered back and forth for quite a while. Several young men stood behind each of the older men; they were all wearing hats and considerably expensive athletic shoes, their faces filled with exhaustion.

The other TTC members observed with a ‘watching the show’ attitude, and they even wanted to bet on who would win the argument. Meanwhile, the people in PUD who could understand the fight were still in a dilemma, while the ones who couldn’t looked completely lost.