His hand hadn't even touched Wen Qiao when his wrist tightened, and suddenly someone yanked him forward. His left half was twisted halfway around, followed by a bone-cracking noise at his shoulder, and then came the intense pain that shot straight into his brain.
"I also like people like Mr. Luo, who know how to read the room," said Wen Qiao sarcastically. "It seems you knew I was going to dislocate your arm, so you kindly offered it to me."
Luo Bin was sweating profusely from the pain. "Wen Qiao, let go, please. Let's talk this out."
"Why don't you just talk?" Wen Qiao replied. "I can hear you."
As she spoke, Wen Qiao lifted her leg and kicked the back of his knee. With a thud, Luo Bin knelt on one knee.
