Chapter 1342: Shit as cannon fodder? (1/2)
This neuropathy again!
At this moment, Feng Xinglang was not in a bright mood. Even so dark! Depression made him breathless!
The boring Fengxing Lang wanted to drive directly into the car; the big deal was that both cars lost.
It can be seen that Feng Xinglang didn't mean to slow down, Yan Bang got out of the car directly, and used his own flesh and blood to cross the not-so-plus intersection.
There was a sudden squeak, and the tires and the ground wiped out a long stream of sparks.
”You **** look for death!”
Feng Xinglang angrily poked out his head from the car window and scolded Yan Bang.
Yan Bang's expression was not much better. In fact, when Feng Xinglang went to Panshan Road, he was already here. He waited until Feng Xinglang came down again to stop him.
Yan Bang didn't stop Feng Xinglang going up the mountain; because he knew that Feng Xinglang could be desperate for his son. You ca n’t stop it!
As for his purpose here, it is unknown.
Yan Bang didn't move or hold his breath, so he kept staring at Feng Xinglang in the cab so deeply.
”Get up! Otherwise I'll hit you!”
Feng Xinglang stepped on the throttle, but Yan Bang still stood still, as if his soul had husked!
It was another curse, Feng Xinglang got out of the car, rushed to the car and tried to push Yan Bang away ...
But was full of embrace by Yan Bang!
”Lang, what did you promise Cong Gang?”
Yan Bang hissed, his voice trembling like a wandering ghost.
”What promised? I did a fight with him! Wise!”
Feng Xinglang didn't know what Yan Bang intended to ask, but he felt clearly uncomfortable in the hug he suddenly attacked.
He pushed Yanbang a bit annoyingly, ”What the **** are you doing here? Want to fight with me? Or do you want to find Cong Gang?”
When Feng Xinglang pushed him away, Yan Bang discovered that Feng Xinglang's shirt was stained with large pieces of blood.
”Lang, are you injured? Where is the injury? Arm or shoulder?”
Yan Bang, who came forward to check it, was pushed away by Feng Xinglang again, ”Don't move me! I'm holding a belly of fire! Do you want to be dead?
”What happened to Cong Gang? Have you made any unscrupulous demands?”
Yan Bang's inquiry was always so dark. Perhaps in his opinion, Cong Gang was a sinister figure.
”Don't be foolish!”
Feng Xinglang fumbled in his pants pocket anxiously before realizing that his cigarette had been smoked as early as Cong, ”Is there a cigarette? A cigar is also OK!”
Yan Bang is accustomed to smoking cigars; but Feng Xinglang does not like the too strong taste.
”Have!”
Yan Bang took out a box of hardcover cigars from a storage box under the hood of Lamborghini. He picked out a cigar that was slightly thicker than a cigarette, but slightly thinner than the cigarette he usually smoked, and sent it to Feng Xinglang's lips.
”Don't swallow the smoke ... Spit it out in your mouth!”
Before Yan Bang's reminder was finished, Feng Xinglang was coughed by the strong spicy smoke of the cigar.
”What's wrong? What's wrong with this? What happened to Cong Gang?”
Yan Bang put his hand on Feng Xinglang's blood-stained shoulder, but did not hear any pain in Feng Xinglang's pain, and determined that the blood on his shirt was not Feng Xinglang's own.
”Cong just didn't deal with me; but I slammed him ... the blood on me was his.”