Watching the two ladies engage in banter again, Zhan Se chuckled to himself without a word, concentrating on arranging the dishes for Little Thirteen.
Whenever those two were around, the place was never short of excitement and joy.
Everyone had been busy lately; it was rare for them to gather together like this. Amidst the noisy joking, they began to discuss Iron Hand and Ai Lun's wedding. The excitement surged wave after wave, until quite some time had passed before the group realized that Wu Qing, who usually loved to joke around, had suddenly become silent and looked distinctly uncomfortable.
Could it be that watching Iron Hand get married stirred something in his heart?
Taking advantage of the commotion as they goaded each other into drinking, Ai Lun, who knew about his past troubles with Sun Qing, tugged at Sun Qing's sleeve, lowered her voice, and whispered, "Miss Sun, are you free this weekend?"
Sun Qing was much more at ease than Wu Qing. "What's up?"
