Song Guanchao's eyes lowered to the wrinkled neckline of her dress.
Inside the collar, two full snow-white mounds pressed together, creating a deep, bottomless cleavage.
With such extensive bodily contact, it was inevitable that Song Guanchao would react.
He forcefully shifted his gaze and supported her as they walked towards the room.
Yet, after only a few steps, Wu Qiangwei suddenly felt her stomach churn and, bending over, she vomited.
Song Guanchao quickly helped her crouch down, gently patting her back.
Wu Qiangwei hadn't eaten much, so it was all alcohol that she vomited, a pungent and offensive liquid that filled the entire living room.
After she had vomited, Wu Qiangwei's consciousness cleared up a little.
"You can't handle your drink, so why force yourself?" he muttered.
Hearing Song Guanchao's murmur, Wu Qiangwei was about to say something but swallowed her words back down.