"How about this, President Qiao, I'll pour you eight glasses of alcohol, and you'll drink them."
"You drink one, and I'll lend out ten million!"
"As much as you can drink, that's how much I'll lend you!"
"How about that?"
Chen Lu leered at Qiao Ziyan, deftly pouring eight large glasses of white liquor, lining them up in a row on the table.
This was 53-degree baijiu, with two shots per glass; eight glasses amounted to one and a half jin!
If Ziyan really downed eight glasses of this liquor, wouldn't she be at his mercy?
"Fine! I'll drink!"
Ziyan hesitated for a moment, then gritted her teeth, picked up one of the large glasses of white liquor from the table, and downed it in one go.
The liquor was extremely spicy, the burning sensation filled her throat in an instant, making her cough incessantly, tears filling her beautiful eyes.
"Good! Worthy of being President Qiao! You've already obtained a ten-million loan!"