Early the next morning, Rose stepped in high heels, carrying a packed breakfast as she knocked on A'niu's room door.
A passing waiter saw Rose, nodded, and greeted her, "Sister Rose, you're up early?"
Rose wanted to greet him openly but, with breakfast in her hands, she could only smile slightly, "Yes, indeed."
"Are you delivering breakfast to Mr. Wei? Mr. Wei isn't on this floor, he's at the top, shall I take you there?"
Rose was considered one of Binjiang's top beauties; everyone from the age of ninety-nine to those who had just learned to walk would seize the chance to exchange words with her.
As the saying goes, "Even as a ghost, one would wish to lounge under the peony flowers."
In the past, Rose had already grown accustomed to such attentiveness and flattery.
But today, she wished this person in front of her would vanish on the spot.
This is my own office space, where I've come countless times, do I really need you to tell me how to find my way?
