Lin Yu clapped her hands enthusiastically, "Doctor Meng, do come to our house more often as a guest."
"Of course, Madam Zhou."
During the meal, Zhou Lin and Cheng Zhiwei sat together, while Meng Qiancheng sat opposite them. Meng Qiancheng and Lin Yu chatted back and forth, with most of the conversation naturally revolving around Cheng Zhiwei's past.
And perhaps it was Zhou Lin's imagination, but every time Cheng Zhiwei was mentioned, Meng Qiancheng's tone seemed indulgent, the kind a man reserves for doting on a woman.
The dinner was full of mirth, except for Zhou Lin, who sat expressionless, as if everyone present owed him money.
Cheng Zhiwei was even less inclined to cater to Zhou Lin's mood, sitting beside him but acting as if she hadn't noticed a thing.
When it was time to toast, she also joined in with a drink.
The moment the glass reached her lips, it was snatched away by a scowling Zhou Lin, "Don't you know you shouldn't drink alcohol when your throat is uncomfortable?"
