Li Yongjun channeled his Qi Blood, and the sharp blade shrank back into the shape of a skull ring.
"Director Li, what's with the design of this ring?" Su Yue asked with a frown.
"Isn't it cool? I've loved hardcore elements like this since I was a kid. Doesn't it feel very rock and roll? Very punk?
"I know my own taste. It's far better than my research abilities.
"You might not believe it, but when I was young, I started a band. I was the lead singer and even wrote a highly critical song. Unfortunately, when we went on a talent show, we didn't even pass the auditions. I'm pretty sure it was rigged." As Li Yongjun reached the exciting part of his story, his eyebrows twitched in indignation.
Su Yue looked at Li Yongjun's large beer belly, then at the struggling tuft of hair on top of his head—his hair's last stand.
"Rock and roll? Punk?" Su Yue thought. He couldn't imagine what Li Yongjun would look like wearing smoky eye makeup. "What an eyesore."
