Li Shuru, who was clearly supposed to walk up from the front, smiled with elegant, friendly warmth, greeted them with a glance, and handed over the coffee bag in her hand. "Here."
Not to mention Hong Xiaoyu, even Duan Xueying was probably caught off guard. It was a few seconds before she reached out to take it. Inside the bag were two cups of coffee, bought fresh at the airport.
"...Thank you, Sister Shurui."
This was actually the first time she and Li Shuru were meeting in the proper sense.
"You're welcome."
A single-shoulder, drapey satin long dress in emerald green flared with luxurious flair; over it she'd thrown on an oversized structured cape coat that nicely toned down the surging aura. A mini-sized gilt-edged black clutch hung casually off her shoulder. No exaggeration—though she'd come alone with no entourage, the pressure Hong Xiaoyu felt from her was no less than what he'd felt facing the billionaire socialite "Sister Qianqian" back then.
As expected.
