Jiayi took a deep breath and stopped in her tracks.
No wonder the French manager smiled so meaningfully! Little pet?
She glared intensely at his tall spine a few times, but then her gaze became desolate.
Indeed, little pet, wasn't that so? She was just his pet after all.
At this moment, the French manager led them to a table at the very back, inviting them to sit down.
The ambience was serene, with melodious music drifting through.
Though the French Restaurant wasn't too large, the dining space here was quite spacious, clearly reserved for VIPs.
It was mealtime, and with so many guests waiting outside—all either rich or noble—the manager had reserved the place solely for Huo Zhenyang, not allowing any other guests in—this man's face, indeed, was tremendous.
Huo Zhenyang, following his usual habit, ordered a few dishes he was accustomed to eating.
The servant brought the dishes one by one, in sequence.
