Tang Yanqing finished speaking, put his hands in his pockets, and walked upstairs slowly. Xiang Yuan knew that even if he chased after him now and asked, the young master wouldn't bother to answer him with another word.
Recalling his father's previous reminder, telling him not to offend the Tang father and son directly... he could only hold it in.
He turned around and walked towards the sofa, tugging off his tie irritably.
The bottle of drunk razor clams was empty, the cap left off, emitting a scent mixed with yellow wine and fishiness lingering in the air. Xiang Yuan forced himself to endure it, grabbed it close to his nose... forced himself to get used to that smell, but in the end, he couldn't take it, disgustedly grabbed the cap and covered it, then tossed the whole thing into the trash.
He slumped down on the sofa.
