Afterward, he abruptly stood up, and without a word, wrapped his arm around her waist and lifted her up.
There was a moment of small quietness in the scene, as Yu Yanshen lifted the half-full pale golden wine glass in front of him, raised it high and drained it in one gulp, his Adam's apple moving visibly.
In the interplay of light and shadow in the private room, he said in a low, mellow voice.
"It's quite late, and she has a cold constitution, so she won't accompany you all any longer. We'll gather again another time."
Yao Qing was led out by his not too gentle or too forceful grip, at a loss for what to say.
A cold constitution…?
It seemed a little like that.
But what did that have to do with leaving the banquet?
The CEOs seemed to think the same.
In the resplendent private room, CEOs worth hundreds of millions exchanged puzzled looks.
"What illness is a 'cold constitution'?"
"Seems like it's just physical weakness?"
