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"Tang Wan, you damn..." Young Master He had one finger twisted back, his face already contorted with pain.
The expletive hadn't even left his mouth when Tang Wan applied a little more pressure, and his voice changed with the pain.
"Sis—" Tang Mo stood to the side, her small face pale and bloodless.
Everyone in the private room was stunned by the sudden turn of events, frozen in shock.
Yet Young Master He was already boiling with rage; he was used to doing as he pleased in Pingjiang City, and everyone in the room was usually respectful to him. What Tang Wan did today wasn't just a matter of losing face, it was like grinding his face into the ground.
Tang Wan knew that if she kept twisting, his finger would probably break, so she let go.
Freed from restraint, Young Master He turned and shouted hysterically at Tang Wan, "I invited you for a drink, that was giving you face, don't you dare turn it down."