"Brother Song, what's the background of this Jiang Chen?"
There was no anger. Although he had an embarrassing moment at the Chanel store, warm face pressed against a cold butt, Guo Anle, as a young master from a prominent family, wasn't petty. First, he didn't go to He Yihui to demand explanations, nor did he challenge Jiang Chen to a duel; rather, he was curious about Jiang Chen's background.
As the saying goes, know your enemy and yourself and you will never be defeated. A family background like his would never allow him to make rash, hot-headed decisions; it was in his genes.
Those who rush off to settle scores after a slight "injustice," these scenes mostly happen in melodramatic TV shows or silly novels.
Real figures with any substantial standing would never be so impatient.
"I'm not too sure either."
Guo Anle thought he would find an answer here, but the response he received made him somewhat skeptical.
"Not even you, Brother Song?"
"I'm not the census bureau."