A large group of East Sea second-generation heirs noisily left.
The not-so-spacious private room suddenly became quiet.
As the host, Wan Yawen should have spoken at this point.
But his heart was in such turmoil that words failed him.
"Jiang Chen, thanks."
It was ultimately Fu Zili who broke the silence, looking at Jiang Chen with a complex expression on his face.
"Why so formal."
Jiang Chen smiled nonchalantly, as always showing no sharp edges or pomp.
But at this moment,
who could still look at him with the same eyes as before.
"You haven't eaten yet."
Fang Qing spoke up.
"Right, right, let's eat, let's have our meal."
Wan Yawen quickly spoke up, forcing a smile and righting the overturned chairs.
Jiang Chen and Li Shuru indeed hadn't had the chance to pick up their chopsticks yet.
The few of them took their seats again.
This banquet seemed to finally enter its normal rhythm.
"Jiang Chen, you..."
Fu Zili started to speak, then hesitated.
