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Chapter Forty-seven

In silent agreement, neither Yan Li nor Su Yuyang mentioned the matter with Ling Miao.

Su Yuyang had made reservations for hot pot. After Ling Miao had left, Su Yuyang and Yan Li headed over, Yan Li casually calling Feng Ji to join them.

Su Yuyang drank glass after glass of beer but didn't eat much of the food in the pot. Feng Ji cooked a piece of tripe and tossed it into Su Yuyang's bowl, but Su Yuyang didn't see it.

"Hey, Yan Li." Feng Ji scooted closer and asked worriedly by her ear, "What's up with Yuyang? Usually when I give him tripe he whacks me with his beer glass. But today he's only concerned with drinking?"

Yan Li took the piece of tripe from Su Yuyang's bowl, put it into her mouth and chewed twice, then spit it out. She took a sip of tea and made a disdainful gesture toward Feng Ji: "No wonder Old Su¹ doesn't eat the tripe you cook. It's overcooked." Yan Li intentionally changed the subject and Feng Ji didn't pursue the matter further.

Su Yuyang put down his glass and said dejectedly: "Have I failed as a boss?"

"Why do you think so?" Feng Ji asked, but he was silently sighing: You didn't fail. You're just not suitable to be a boss.

Feng Ji didn't know how Ling Miao and Su Yuyang usually interacted but from Ling Miao's complaints against Su Yuyang, although Su Yuyang didn't exploit his workers, he had done various things to make Ling Miao uncomfortable. Su Yuyang had asked if he had failed as a boss, so Su Yuyang's current half-dead state had to do with Ling Miao. Thinking of Ling Miao, Feng Ji glanced around and didn't find him there.

"Ling Miao's not here?"

"I gave him three days off, and he gave me forever off." Su Yuyang poured another glass of beer, the smile on his face more bitter than a bitter gourd.

The bitter taste of beer filled Su Yuyang's mouth. As it slid down his throat, the sourness almost emerged from his eyes.

Su Yuyang finally fell over. Feng Ji settled the bill and wondered how to deal with Su Yuyang.

Yan Li said matter-of-factly: "You carry him home, of course."

Feng Ji's legs went weak and he almost knelt in front of Yan Li.

Motherfucker! Su Yuyang lived on the tenth floor and there was no elevator!

Taking the stairs to the tenth floor was exhausting enough, and he had to carry a 110-pound object on top of that. A wave of dizziness passed over Feng Ji and he was considering finding a couple of strong guys to carry Su Yuyang up to the tenth floor when he glanced again at Yan Li's grinning face. He instantly put Su Yuyang on his back.

In the stairwell, the sounds of Feng Ji panting mingled with the clack of Yan Li's high heels on the cement floor. Feng Ji was following behind Yan Li, and as he watched Yan Li's carefree silhouette he couldn't help complaining: "You're stronger than me! Why am I carrying him?"

"Because he's your ex," Yan Li said matter-of-factly.

Fuck, he's an ex, not a current boyfriend!

Feng Ji complained in his heart.

"Hey, Feng Ji, I think it's weird how Ling Miao left. Surely Old Su didn't do anything to him to make him want to run away?" Yan Li looked at Su Yuyang's unconscious body and asked the out-of-breath Feng Ji.

Feng Ji lay against the back of the sofa, breathing great gulps of fresh air. He panted, "Surely Yuyang's not so starved he eats indiscriminately, don't you know?"

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