Luo Weiwei was just thinking about it when she saw Wang Biao point to his face and say, "See this? That woman hit me."
Before Luo Weiwei could speak, Wang Biao continued, "She slapped me twice, and it still hurts. And all of this is thanks to you. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't have lost so much face, wouldn't have been slapped by a woman."
Luo Weiwei was taken aback at first, then touched the slapped face and said, "Wang Biao, how can you blame me? You're just useless; you can't even handle a woman."
"Say that again!" Wang Biao got angry, glaring at Luo Weiwei, and said, "You wretched woman, just look at how lightly that slap landed, and you dare talk to me like this. Who am I, Brother Biao, that I wouldn't be able to handle a woman?"
"Since that's the case, why are you blaming me?" Luo Weiwei looked aggrieved and instigated, "Shouldn't you blame that woman Jiang Xue? She hit you, not me."
