Ma Feng and Jim were in the backseat of the mountain SUV, and Ya Quan was driving.
Faced with Jim's complaints, Ma Feng crossed his arms in front of his chest and closed his eyes to rest calmly. He said coldly,
"If you haven't suffocated to death, continue to hold it in."
They wouldn't die if they didn't speak. They weren't women, so they didn't have much to say.
".."
Once again, Jim was angered to the point where his blood rushed to his head, but he could not find any more lethal words to retort Ma Feng.
"Ya Quan, where did you find this person? Can you send him back?"
The more Jim looked, the more he felt that he and Ma Feng could not be two tigers on the same mountain.
"I'm afraid not."
Ya Quan answered Jim's words, but his eyes were as sharp as an eagle's as he stared at the mountain road in front of him.
Something felt off.