Meng Fan's expression twitched, as he kept winking at Wen Zhi and made a tilting head gesture.
Realizing something, Wen Zhi slowly turned her head and saw the person sitting down beside her wasn't Liang Yin, but—
"Mr. Shang?"
The cards in Wen Zhi's hands fell back down, clinking crisply as they collided.
Shang Hexing had drunk a bit of alcohol tonight; there was a faint smell of liquor about him, but his face looked quite normal. The only exception was his deep pupils, black and shining, inexplicably bewitching.
"Do you mind?" he asked softly.
Perhaps because of the alcohol, his voice sounded even more magnetic than usual.
Wen Zhi thought to herself, since he had already sat down, even if she did mind, could she possibly ask him to leave right there and then?
Of course not.
Wen Zhi shook her head, but didn't give him a welcoming look: "I don't mind. You're welcome to sit."
