The next second, an uncontrollable anger surged to the top of his head—he was, after all, a public figure with countless female fans, how could he tolerate being humiliated in public like this?
At this moment, Zhao Shuo really wanted to grab the wine bottle on the table and smash it hard on the head of this blond guy, cracking his skull open!
"What? You're not convinced?" Seeing this, the blond-haired man was not afraid at all. Instead, he sneered, took a step forward and approached Zhao Shuo. Then he picked up an unopened bottle of strong liquor on the table, unscrewed the cap, and poured it over Zhao Shuo's head again!
The icy liquor slid down his cheeks and chest, completely soaking his suit and clinging it tightly to his body.
The purple-haired playboy poured water on the plants while shouting mockingly:
"Judging from your eyes, you're pretty defiant, aren't you? What, you want to hit me? You can try! If you lay a finger on me, I'll make you disappear from the capital!"
The wine continued to drip, and Zhao Shuo's anger continued to rise. His fingers, gripping the microphone, turned white from the force.
But he knew in his heart that the purple-haired playboy was telling the truth, and that these playboys had plenty of ways to ruin his reputation and make him wish he were dead.
In the end, all the anger was extinguished as if doused with a bucket of cold water, turning into a trembling apology:
"I'm so sorry... I didn't know you had just broken up with your boyfriend. It's my fault. I'll change the song, I'll sing it again..."
"Huh? You're something else!" The blond-haired guy laughed as if he'd heard the funniest joke in the world, giving Zhao Shuo a thumbs-up, his tone even more sarcastic:
"You're really something! You've endured more hardship than Goujian's perseverance and Jia Baoliang's being cuckolded!"
"He's quite a figure."
After saying that, he turned around with a smile and walked back to the sofa to sit down, not forgetting to wink at the other playboys.
Zhao Shuo's body trembled uncontrollably, whether from the cold or from the humiliation, he didn't know.
He stood there, under the mocking gazes of the group of rich kids, slowly put down the microphone, selected a soothing song on the song selection screen, picked up the microphone again, and started singing numbly.
My mind went completely blank; I couldn't understand what I had done to offend these lunatics.
He's only offended Luo Ningning and Gu Luo recently. Could it be that Luo Ningning hired these people to get revenge on him?
But it doesn't make sense—if Luo Ningning had that much power, she could have just made him apologize publicly and admit his mistake; there was no need to humiliate him in this way.
Could it be Gu Luo?
As soon as the thought popped into Zhao Shuo's head, he found it utterly absurd.
He had specifically looked up Gu Luo's information beforehand and knew that Gu Luo was a genius with an extraordinary appearance, but he grew up in Caizhou and came from an ordinary family, so he had no chance to come into contact with the top playboys in the capital.
So, where exactly did things go wrong?
To put it simply, could it be that these spoiled brats just don't like him and want to have some fun messing with him?
This thought made him even more desperate.
Zhao Shuo sang numbly, his voice dry and devoid of emotion.
Wang Teng leaned back on the sofa, took out his phone, and cheerfully filmed him, occasionally changing the angle to clearly capture his disheveled appearance.
The other playboys also burst into laughter, pointing and gossiping about his embarrassing state.
One of the playboys, dressed in a black suit, seemed to remember something and loudly mocked:
"Little Shuo, don't think we don't know about your dirty deeds! You used PUA tactics on that girl, got her pregnant and then denied it, driving her to the brink of suicide. You really have no shame! It's amazing that you managed to keep her in check."
Zhao Shuo's lips twitched involuntarily, his heart filled with contempt and anger.
Speaking of scumbags, which of these playboys here hasn't been a slayer of hundreds or thousands of men?
He changes women more often than he changes clothes, and discards them casually when he gets tired of them. He has committed far more sins than I have, yet he still has the nerve to stand on the moral high ground and criticize me.
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