Zhao Zhongyu was at a loss for words.
How could he respond to that?
The only reason he had spouted so much nonsense was to divert Zhao Xiyan's attention, hoping he would take this "untimely" mysterious gift back with him.
He had not expected Qi Yue to jump out.
Hadn't this woman been sitting quietly and obediently ever since he entered?
How had the topic suddenly turned to the chest?
In his heart, no matter how favored or powerful a woman might be, she was merely an appendage to a man.
That was the case for him and even more so for Zhao Xiyan.
In a conversation like this, to allow a woman to eavesdrop was already a significant favor; there was no place for her to speak, let alone take action.
Yet Zhao Xiyan's attitude was clearly one of indulgence, allowing Qi Yue to slap his face proverbially.
Zhao Zhongyu's face was utterly devoid of dignity.
He abruptly stood up and made a bow with his hands.