Two men, facing each other across the table, one stern, the other with a mischievous smile, yet both with gazes as firm as knives and spears.
Luo Xiaoqian sniffed, smelling the scent of steak but feeling an intense aroma of gunpowder.
Glancing at Jiao Yang, then turning to face Leng Zimo, she cautiously spoke up.
"Can we, perhaps, start with dinner?"
If this continued, the steak on their plates was going to be burned to a crisp.
Leng Zimo shifted his intense gaze from Jiao Yang back to her, and seeing the apologetic, nervous, helpless, and worried look on her face, a sense of guilt rose within him.
Preoccupied with competing against that guy, he hoped he hadn't terrified the girl.
"Alright, let's eat!"
Flashing her a smile, he reached for his knife and fork.
Seeing the comfort in his smile, Luo Xiaoqian also cracked a smile, and at the far end of the table, Jiao Yang picked up his knife and fork as well.
Finally, an armistice was called at the dinner table.