There was an unpleasant sensation in my gut, as if someone's hand was gripping it tightly, all squeezed together, and those damn clenching hands didn't let go.
"Oh, Mr. Hang, what suggestion do you have? When I was your age, fine wine and women were already my greatest interests. I can't believe you have a bigger appetite than I did," Shang Yin swirled his glass, the transparent ice cubes twirling around, representing the restless hearts of some people.
"Since tonight, we men are the leaders on this yacht, let's have a contest," Hang Yishao felt a bloodthirsty desire rising within him.
Shang Yin looked from side to side, Fei Qing had drunk the most, now barely supported by several female companions, not even able to straighten his back.
Hang Yishao had also drunk a lot, his eyes filled with red veins, already like a beast about to burst, while Pello had just boarded the yacht.
