The more she thought about it, the more disgusted she became with her surroundings.

After listening to their conversation, Yang Qingheng chuckled and pushed open the office door.

"It's you again! You came in without knocking, you have no manners at all." Qiao Xihe turned around and saw that it was her. Thinking of how she had been rejected by this old man earlier, her expression changed and her tone became sharp and sarcastic.

Yang Qingheng raised an eyebrow, before she could retort.

Uncle Liu's eyes lit up, and he stood up in surprise: "Qingheng, you've finally come! I haven't seen you for months. How come you've been so busy? Or is it because you don't care about this old man and are too lazy to come see me?"

In the end, he snorted, glared, and gritted his teeth.

Although they were angry, no one would think the two were not familiar with each other.

His familiar attitude was a stark contrast to his earlier aloofness towards Qiao Xihe.

It was as if Qiao Xihe was inferior to her, and this difference made Qiao Xihe feel irritable and eager to do something to suppress her.

Yang Qingheng completely ignored her and patted Uncle Liu's shoulder ingratiatingly: "Uncle, it's not that I didn't want to come, it's just that I'm really busy. You can guess that, so why are you arguing with a junior like me, right?"

She reached out and placed the gift she had specially bought for him a few days ago on the table.

"I don't think you really wanted to come today. If it weren't for this bottle of wine, you probably wouldn't come even once a year," Uncle Liu said, exposing her true intentions.

Yang Qingheng shamelessly flattered him a few times.

Uncle Liu was speechless. He stuffed the wine into her arms and waved his hand, saying, "Take it away, take it away, so that no one will come up to covet your bottle of wine every day."

When Qiao Xihe saw the bottle of wine she wanted to buy suddenly end up in Yang Qingheng's hands, her heart sank to the bottom. Then came annoyance, so she simply took out two thousand yuan from her bag. The thick wad of money attracted the attention of both of them.

Qiao Xihe crossed her arms and said, "Boss Liu, if you won't sell it for a thousand yuan, then two thousand yuan is the most I can offer."

Two thousand yuan. His factory's annual profit is only ten or twenty thousand yuan. I don't believe he wouldn't be tempted.

Sure enough, as soon as he finished speaking, Mr. Liu, who had just refused to sell alcohol, changed his expression slightly, clearly tempted.

Qiao Xihe glanced at Yang Qingheng indifferently, with an indescribable smugness. She forcefully snatched the bottle of wine, adopting a victorious posture: "The wine belongs to Boss Liu. He can sell it to whomever he wants. Boss Yang won't be angry about this, will she?"