A blast of thermal pressure hit Su Liuyun squarely in the chest.
The Top Courtesan was literally launched backward, flying off the stage, crashing into a pile of plush velvet cushions twenty feet away, neutralizing the sex appeal with blunt-force trauma.
"Do not interrupt my negotiations, peacock," Yan Zhaoge muttered dismissively. He turned back to Ji'an, tapping his foot impatiently. "The wine. Now. Or I melt the floor."
Ji'an let out a long, heavy, agonizing groan.
She was surrounded by simps, wearing sheer silk. She had just been telepathically threatened by her old kitchen nuisance.
And now, she was being extorted by a pyromaniac CEO.
"Fine!" Ji'an snapped, reaching into her spatial ring. "Take it! Take the damn wine! But if you critique the tannin structure, I am taking the Phoenix Ember back!"
