Zhao Dong smiled faintly, turning his hand over to take Su Yurou's delicate hand and gently stroke it. Then, with a playful look, he turned to Qian Qiang and said, "Don't worry about him. He's just a petty clown. I paid him no mind. Let's not let a piece of trash ruin our mood. We should go in."
"Yes, yes! Okay!" Seeing that Zhao Dong wasn't angry, a smile returned to Su Yurou's face.
Ignoring Qian Qiang, she looped her arm through Zhao Dong's and walked confidently into the hotel.
Watching their retreating figures, Qian Qiang felt he was about to go mad. "AHH! You bastard! How dare you steal my, Qian Qiang's, woman? You're courting death! Courting death!"
As they stepped into the banquet hall, Su Yurou's ethereal beauty immediately captivated everyone's attention.
"Miss Su! It's Miss Su!"
"Beautiful! She's absolutely breathtaking! A beauty like her belongs in the heavens; how rarely is one seen in the mortal world!"
"Alas, I'd give up ten years of my life to marry Miss Su!"
