WARNING! Tsundere President

Chapter 810 - What do you think you are? Mother Teresa?

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Chapter 810: 810、What do you think you are? Mother Teresa?

Translator: EndlessFantasy Translation Editor: EndlessFantasy Translation

"My lady, you've finally returned!" Shouted Manager Yu as he clumsily sprinted towards Wen He backstage like a sweaty bear. "President Lin from Shang Ran Corp. has been anticipating you! He's going to throw a tantrum if you don't go now."

"President Lin?" Wen He frowned in bewilderment, "Isn't that the loaded dork who wants to be my sugar daddy by giving me a million dollars per month?"

"Yes!"

Wen He sighed, her eyes went wry, "Haven't I told you a gazillion times before? To never take his request for me, I'm not performing for him, never again?"

Who likes that porky dork who can't even watch his mouth? I nearly wanted to castrate him with my fist if it wasn't Manager Yu who stormed into the room in time.

"Can't help it—he pays a lot…" Said Manager Yu pitifully, "He's both rich and authoritative, not someone who could be stopped by an ordinary folk like me. I think all the wealthy men there are aware that you sell nothing else than your dance. So—he can't do anything to you as long as you leave right after your performance."

"Fine. I'll get dressed." Wen He rolled her eyes and nodded.

The other dancers started their gossip the moment Wen He left the room.

"Did you see that? Angelina?"

"Yeah, I saw. What a b*tch."

"Karina is so pretentious. Everyone knows she's a hypocritical sl*t. 'OH~ Look at me. I'm a beautiful girl in Golden City. Oh, sorry, I don't do wh*re stuff. I'm a dancer.' As if!"

"Right? I heard that she even refused to take any tip from the audience. Look at her, she thinks she's some performer at the theatre or something."

"Right?" The girls giggled.

And Wen He overheard that since they were not soft-spoken.

She sighed.

I just wanted some distraction. Something to kill my time while making me money—Manager Yu probably got pressured by Gu Jinzhi, that's why he let me go without doing more for President Lin.

Golden City is the largest entertainment venue in the country after all.

Wen He was right. No one dared to lift a finger upon Wen He due to the authority behind the venue.

She greeted with her signature smile, bowed in her rosy dress with golden ribbons and edges. An extensively designed crown was placed upon her head before the performance started. President Lin wanted to see her performing "Dancing Angel" for the night. She winked occasionally on stage as she glided from one spot to another. Thunderous applause was heard towards the end.

"Thank you!" She bowed dramatically and dashed to her bag.

"Hold it!" President Lin stopped her.

"Karina, Encore!"

Wen He took her bag, hopped off the stage and headed straight to the door.

"I'm sorry, President Lin! Only one performance at a time. No encore!"

"Hold it right there, woman!" Her nonchalance annoyed President Lin as he poured another glass of beer down his throat, staggered before started running to seize her. "I'm warning you, Karina! If people offered you something, you better take it or else!"

"He's right. Karina, it's fine if you don't want to do anything else but dancing is what you are supposed to do!" Added the other women.

Inside the dim cabin, the commotion was dampened by the loud pop music as Wen He stood still, her revealed back and waists were grabbed by the cold air as they were marveled by men aroused by alcohol and libido. There were lusts in their eyes as they hauled their drunken body towards her. Like a pack of hungry wolves, they began grabbing her anywhere they could.

"Karina, you're working at Golden City. What do you think you are? Mother Teresa?"

"If money is all you wanted, we have as much as you want, as long as you are willing to spend the night with us."

"How does that sound?"

Wen He did not reply. There was a rage brewing inside her. She lifted her arm seized by President Lin and her other hand nearly struck upon his face.

But she only swung the hands away as she ran out of the room.

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