"I heard my uncle is dining here, and since we bumped into each other, Sirong and I came over to say hello,"
Jiang Che, holding Lu Sirong's hand, took two steps forward, his face wearing a mask of politeness, "Mr. Fan, please excuse us."
Fan Ju slightly stepped aside, making way.
After all, it was his nephew accompanied by his fiancée coming to see his uncle; as an outsider, he seemed to have no reason to block their way.
The commotion at the door could be heard by the people inside the private room to some extent.
When Jiang Che entered with Lu Sirong, they both immediately noticed Yu Chiyin sitting on the corner sofa, exuding an aura of pride and indifference.
At that moment, his slender, jade-like hand was holding a small bamboo pick, feeding a piece of honeydew melon into the mouth of the person in his embrace.
Strangers only saw his indifference, but when he lowered his head, the corners of his eyes and brows were filled with intoxicating tenderness.
