"Thump thump thump!"
The next day, while still basking in the sweet dreams of early morning, the door of Zhang Menglong's home was frantically pounded on.
"What's going on? Demolition time?" Zhang Menglong, still groggy from waking up, made his way to the entrance, only to see that the alloy door of the villa had been dented with several deep fist marks, reminiscent of a scene from "Kung Fu." "Practicing the Tathagata Palm?"
Zhang Menglong opened the door, and Jiang Qiyuan stood at the doorway, her face fraught with worry.
"Where's Wang Ling? Is he alright?"
"I mean, sister, can't you let a person have a good sleep early in the morning? You've almost smashed our door to bits," Zhang Menglong immediately complained, feeling speechless about the door. What did it ever do to you?
"Where's Wang Ling?" Jiang Qiyuan continued to press.
