Maybe the Pressure to Perform Is Too High

Hearing that, he couldn't help but laugh. "The advertisers are so dedicated this year. They're still trying to perform well at night."

Qiao Nian saw that the number's area code wasn't a local Rao City number. Her eyes were dark and her lips were pursed. In annoyance, she casually said, "Maybe you're right. The pressure to perform is too high."

…

"Master Wang, Miss Qiao isn't answering your call?" In a red Buick, Gu San turned around to look at the man sitting in the back seat.

Ye Wangchuan didn't know that he was reduced to an advertiser who was pressured to perform by two people. At this moment, he pursed his lips, slowly put down the phone, and said nothing as he glanced at the call which was hung up ruthlessly.

However, Gu San gloated. "It's too bad that your mobile phone is dead and you have to lose mine. Miss Qiao doesn't have my Beijing phone number. Maybe she thinks that it's a harassing call."