The cigar room moved in a slow, indulgent rhythm mixed with smoke drifting slowly under warm amber lights, low murmurs blending with the soft clink of crystal.
Zhao Li Xin sat calmly, cigar between his fingers as he listened to Abigail and Robert's conversation with ease. Without breaking focus, he lifted his glass and took a sip of bourbon.
He frowned slightly at the unfamiliar taste, then glanced around, observing how the others carried themselves. A moment later, he mimicked them and started swirling the glass with quiet precision, his posture relaxed, his expression indifferent, almost seamless.
Lory watched in amazement. Even with his deliberately unflattering disguise, he still carried a subtle charm that drew a few curious glances, though thankfully, they quickly looked away.
She discreetly patted her chest in relief, 'Thank goodness, I make him ugly today.'
