After seeing it clearly, Ye Yuhe couldn't help but mutter a curse:
"Are you crazy?! Wearing sunglasses at night!"
The man, however, showed no anger whatsoever; his voice was warm and clear, with a hint of roguishness.
"It looks good on me! Sister, do you think I look good?"
Ye Yuhe narrowed her eyes slightly, and, emboldened by the alcohol, leaned closer to examine him closely.
The man looks very young, too young!
Not her type!
She muttered:
"It's ugly, it's ugly..."
She suddenly smiled mischievously and tilted her head, saying:
"It won't look good unless you call me 'Purple Tsk'!"
The man's lips twitched slightly; he seemed surprised that this woman, even drunk, still managed to make a joke.
I can't be bothered with her.
His gaze slowly shifted to Chu Wuyang, who was already half-drunk and unconscious.
His gaze suddenly changed the moment they met.
It was an aggressive scrutiny, deep and dangerous.
"Sister, should I call you that?"
Chu Wuyang's eyes were half-closed; the alcohol was making her consciousness somewhat unsteady.
But the man's features seemed vaguely familiar.
She tried to see more clearly, frowning and murmuring:
"I... I feel like I've seen you somewhere before..."
The man chuckled softly, a hint of teasing in his voice:
"Sister, this is such an old-fashioned way to start a conversation? But I'll take it."
He slowly approached her and whispered seductively in her ear:
"Hey sis, wanna add each other on WeChat?"
Chu Wuyang was so drunk that she was completely out of it and couldn't hear what the man was saying at all. She just kept muttering:
"I've seen you before, but...where did I see you? Ah, I can't remember..."
She frowned in confusion, her gaze unfocused, and her body leaned slightly forward, as if she subconsciously wanted to cling to the man.
The man stood still, neither refusing nor making a move.
It was as if they were waiting for her next reaction.
However, at this moment—
Suddenly, a large hand reached out, grabbed Chu Wuyang's shoulder, and pulled her away from the man.
The man paused slightly, then his eyes darkened, revealing a hint of displeasure.
The next second, without hesitation, he threw a punch—
But just as the fist was about to land...
The man's movements suddenly froze, and he stood there stiffly.
In the dim light, he finally saw the face of the person who made the move.
That calm and stern face, with sharp and imposing features, exuded a calm and composed aura, yet his gaze revealed a dangerous edge.
The man paused for a full second, then uttered a name in a low voice—
"Yang Jinchu?"
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