Little Milk Baby covered her face, self-deceiving, just a soft and squishy little pink bun.
Meanwhile, the old master was holding Fuguier, wearing a red pendant, with a face full of joy.
Surrounding guests were also gathered nearby watching.
At such a time, when the host is satisfied, the guests should also offer their compliments, but as all eyes were on Rong Qing, no flattering words were forthcoming.
The elegant young man couldn't help but feel helpless, "It seems I dug a hole for myself to jump into."
And the next second, the young man raised his hand, pinching the black pendant with his pale fingers, and put it around his own neck.
Compared to his previous behavior, this was unexpectedly good-natured.
The little fingers Jinjin held over her face parted slightly, peeking through to gauge Rong Qing's expression.
"Thank you, Jinjin, your brother really likes it."
The lights in the banquet hall were bright.
