You have to climb several steps to reach the restaurant.

She climbed for a while before realizing that she had twisted her ankle, and the pain became more and more pronounced the longer she walked.

She glanced up at the seemingly endless staircase and anxiously checked her watch.

I'm going to be late...

We need to hurry, we can't let President Bo get angry...

Otherwise, all the achievements of today's project and the good impression we made with him will be wasted.

Can't be late...

Absolutely not...

She endured the pain in her feet, and slowly climbed up, clinging to the handrail.

When she finally arrived at the restaurant, her back was covered in cold sweat, her face was as white as paper, and she could barely stand.

Bo Xu stood tall and elegant at the restaurant entrance. When he saw her, he strode over and glanced at his watch with a cold expression.

"I was ten minutes late."

“Shen Zhiyi,” he said coldly, lowering his wrist, “you are the first person who has dared to make me wait this long.”

Shen Zhiyi turned pale with fright and quickly apologized.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Bo..."

Bo Xu noticed the sweat on her forehead, glanced down at her, and frowned, asking, "What happened to your foot?"

Shen Zhiyi suddenly felt a little wronged.

She remembered what the survival manual said: "Don't cry in front of him," and forced back her tears.

He sniffed and mumbled, "It's twisted."

"The staircase is very long."

Her voice trembled as she spoke, and there was a hint of water in her eyes.

Bo Xu pursed his lips.

Suddenly, a large hand scooped her up, and he bent down to pick her up.

Shen Zhiyi exclaimed in surprise, her fingertips grabbing his suit jacket.

"What are mouths for?" Bo Xu glanced at her lips, which were moist and glistening, gleaming softly in the sunlight.

Like some kind of rich, sweet candy.

For others to enjoy.

His Adam's apple bobbed, and he subtly averted his gaze, carrying her as he strode toward the private room.

"You didn't even call me when you were injured."

He lowered his gaze and swept it over the person who was obediently curled up in his arms, head hanging down like a quail, without uttering a sound.

"Do you really enjoy being scolded?"

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