Li Xiang said seriously, "Because the apocalypse is coming."
"PFFT—" Yao Yao burst out laughing.
Zhao Xueqing, with her bright eyes and pearly teeth, couldn't help but chuckle either.
The two of them were now wrapped in down jackets. Their performance outfits from before were too cold to wear offstage. But even with the jackets, the lower halves of their bodies were still freezing.
Li Xiang had wanted to invite them over to his place to warm up by the fire and chat, but it was getting late. The mountain village roads had few cars or people at night, and it wouldn't be safe for the young women to travel back, even though their families had come along with them. So, to make a long story short, he gave them a brief overview of the future business of "Apocalypse Media" and "Apocalypse Saint Realm," basically selling them on the dream.
