The night was deep and silent, all sounds hushed.
When the assistant entered the room and saw Chu Qi soaked through, he was completely stunned.
The sound of running water in the bathroom stopped at the same time, and Chu Qi glanced at him indifferently, casually opened the bathroom door, and sat back down on the sofa.
"Boss... Boss?" The assistant looked at Song Tingye, dumbfounded.
He had never seen his boss like this before; his white shirt and black trousers were drenched, the usually meticulous black hair was disheveled and unkempt, and droplets of water fell drop by drop along his sharply defined jawline.
Of course, what hadn't changed was his intimidating indifference and the cold, hard aura that warded people off.
In the midst of a whirlwind of thoughts, the assistant conjured up one hundred and eight rated-R scenarios based on the condition of the two.