The two men's stubbornness did not sustain long.
When Zhang Manhua returned to her seat with the remote control for the heater, Ji Ziming finally released Pei Ge's hand and shook Wen Qimo's.
"Hello," he greeted, his face a mask of gloom and coldness.
Seeing him take his hand, Wen Qimo's face broke into a warm and gentle smile. "Your reputation precedes you, CEO Ji. You are kind of my idol."
Ji Ziming's eyes narrowed at the man's words, and he tightened his grip around his hand, as though he were attempting to break it.
Despite the tight grip, Wen Qimo's smile did not falter and, in fact, glowed like a spring sun.
Of course, his grip around Ji Ziming's hand also tightened.
The two women in the private room were totally oblivious to the open strife and veiled struggle going on between the two men.
