Pei Zhiyao was unguarded against Ma Yu.
Under the persuasive urging of drink after drink, Pei Zhiyao didn't know how much he had been made to drink.
Only when he couldn't drink any more, only when he began to feel dizzy and his head throbbed, did he stop.
But his brain had crashed.
Even so, he didn't suspect Ma Yu of having ulterior motives.
The documents on the table had already been collected by his assistant, Xiaochen.
The other party tugged at Pei Zhiyao's arm, carefully reminding him at his side.
"Mr. Pei, why don't you stop drinking? You are drunk."
Xiaochen thought to herself that today was indeed strange.
Pei Zhiyao was usually able to handle his liquor, no matter how much he drank.
Today, after just half a jin of baijiu and a few bottles of beer, how did he become like this?
Although Xiaochen was suspicious, she didn't say anything.
