"Oh, so it's a pretty boy."
"Yeah, pretty boy." Mo Shangjun replied casually, adding nonchalantly, "A pretty boy whom even ten of you couldn't beat."
"..." Choked by her words, Brother Bai tightly squeezed the medicine bag and replied defiantly, "And such a person needs you to come out and buy medicine for him?"
Mo Shangjun thought of something, let out a joyful laugh, and said, "I'm afraid if he goes out, he'll flirt with others, so I keep him locked up at home."
"..." He felt as if he had been force-fed a mouthful of dog food.
After a pause, Brother Bai delivered one last blow, "Sis, there's no future with an old man who has stomach issues."
"How do you know he's an old man?" Mo Shangjun's voice turned cold.
"How can us young people get this kind of illness?" Brother Bai's tone was a bit proud.
