Facing this situation, Huang Dong just wanted to find a pillar and crash into it on the spot.
His face turned green, then white.
The shame was unbearable.
It was the ashen scene of a lie being punctured, a dream bubble bursting.
Zhao Peng, not one to let go when he had the upper hand, was only giving him a taste of his own medicine. In contrast to the earlier mocking and scoffing, his current words were much gentler, "Zhan Yiyi, don't you remember him? He's Mr. Huang's son, the rising 'billion-dollar director' known as Huang Xiaoxie."
"Ah?" Zhan Yiyi exclaimed in surprise, "You're Mr. Huang's son? Oh, then I remember, we have met."
"However..."
"I'm really sorry, I haven't paid much attention to film and television works these years, so…"
Zhan Yiyi didn't finish her sentence, but the last 'so,' even in silence, seemed to say it all, 'so, I don't know who you are.'