The snow in Paris had begun to melt, and the sun lazily shone on the ground, casting a lustrous sheen on the white snow.
The biting wind was still blowing, cutting across faces like a knife.
The number of pedestrians on the streets was gradually increasing, but most were hurrying on their way.
Shen Chi arrived in Paris, and after preliminarily concluding the project negotiations, it was already the evening of the second day.
The other party had booked a banquet and insisted on drinking and chatting with Shen Chi at the dinner table.
"President Shen, we are the hosts today, so let me toast you first," said the man in a suit as he came over, insisting on filling Shen Chi's glass to the brim.
"If President Pei toasts me, of course I can't refuse. Allow me to drink first as a sign of respect," Shen Chi replied.
After speaking, Shen Chi tilted his head back and downed the glass of wine in one go.
