Su Yiyi had no idea that these were just cheesy pickup lines thugs used on girls.
She still frowned in confusion and said, "Sorry, I don't know you?"
The punk reached out to grab her, grinning, "Doesn't matter if you don't know me—we can get to know each other slowly!"
The table of thugs behind him burst out laughing, egging him on, "Go get her, boss!"
"Boss, we're giving you twelve thumbs up!"
"Boss, we got your back!"
"..."
But before his hand could touch Su Yiyi, Qin Feng had already caught his wrist.
"Dude, you're drunk!"
Qin Feng kept eating his skewers casually, not even sparing the punk a glance.
The punk struggled, but Qin Feng's hand was like a steel clamp—no way he could get free.
Helpless, the punk signaled the guys behind him. Five or six punks grabbed beer bottles and immediately stood up, surrounding Qin Feng.
One of them pointed at Qin Feng and cursed, "Fuck! Bastard, let go of his hand right now!"
Qin Feng chuckled, "What if I don't?"
