Fu Jinghen frowned. This voice—why did it sound so familiar?
He looked toward the crack in the door.
The gap was small, but he could vaguely make out some of the scene inside.
The woman raised her hand to embrace the man, only to be pushed away by him.
In the instant when he saw the woman's profile clearly, Fu Jinghen instinctively dodged to the side.
The waiter clearly also heard the conversation and looked at Fu Jinghen with an embarrassed glance, noting that the man who was still amiable even after having wine spilled on him now had a face as dark as a storm cloud.
"President, President Fu," the waiter's heart tightened. "There should be spare clothes in the other restrooms, I can lead—"
Before the waiter could finish, the man had already turned away and left.
Wen Shu, who was standing on the edge of the hall and talking with others, saw this and lowered her eyes, then lifted her glass to lightly sip some champagne.
-
"Alright, that's good."
