Small things? Tang Qingxue stared blankly at Jialan, realizing that all her worries and concerns were merely trivial matters in others' eyes.
After entering the banquet hall, she noticed the high society officials clad in suits and ties mingling around. The long red carpet stretched to the far end of the hall, and the crystal chandeliers bathed the room in dazzling light. At the center stage, a professional band played joyous melodies, while the women passing by were adorned with fragrant outfits, gold, silver, and jewels. On the surface, this seemed like a private banquet, but it was actually a celebration for Yeh Sha's successful election to the presidency.
Tang Qingxue held a glass of wine, standing at the center of the dance floor, feeling dizzy. She wasn't suited for such a high-end grand event; she didn't belong here. If it weren't for Yin Hun the Nineteenth, she wouldn't force herself to this ghostly place.
