Jiang Shu turned his head, and Du Yuyi had already pressed her upper body against the table, her head tilted and resting on her left arm, her eyes as hazy as if she were drunk.
Her other hand was slightly raised, gently swaying, as if she were waving goodbye.
...
Was this woman doing this on purpose? Is this kind of bad taste only something an old woman would have?
Jiang Shu was internally ranting about it.
"Du Yuyi, whose side are you really on, Clo or someone else?" After his rant, Jiang Shu seriously asked Du Yuyi, his gaze tightly fixed on her, trying to discern something from her increasingly blurred eyes.
"Me? I'm neutral," Du Yuyi let her right hand fall, eyes focused on the red nail polish, "As long as there's Black Silver, anyone can buy answers from me."
