Outside the car, the man was only wearing a shirt, with the cuffs rolled up to his forearms. He looked majestic and his face was mostly hidden in the darkness. Without saying a word, he cast a terrifying sense of pressure.
Song Xiang was dizzy, but she still instinctively shrank and then withdrew her gaze.
She actually didn't quite remember who Yan Han was, so she just mechanically repeated, "Son of a bitch."
Yan Han: "..."
He stretched out his hand, and his first thought was to pull out the dead woman inside.
Zhao Zhe saw this and quickly reminded, "Mr. Yan, Sister Xiang seems to be drunk."
Yan Han's hand stayed in mid-air, and in his ears was Song Xiang's mechanical voice repeating certain words. He frowned and looked at Zhao Zhe with disgust, "You get in the car first and open the window for ventilation."
Zhao Zhe obeyed and quickly got into the car.
Yan Han was very impatient. After waiting for less than half a minute, he got into the car with a cold face.
"Mr. Yan, where are you going?"
"Shogunate." Yan Han spat out two words irritably.
He finally rested for two days. Yesterday, Song Xiang forced him to take a shower, and today he had to drive this damn woman home.
"Stop." Yan Han suddenly said.
Zhao Zhe stepped on the brakes and parked the car on the side of the road.
Yan Han glanced at the woman with dull eyes next to him, and he had the urge to throw her out of the car, but he couldn't say the words out of his mouth.
He thought about it, after all he had slept for five years, there was no point in just throwing him under the bus.
"Go back to the shogunate, hurry up."
Zhao Zhe didn't know what was going on and quickly started the car.
Yan Han figured it out, his expression softened a lot, and his eyes glanced at Song Xiang's face from time to time.
She drank wine, her cheeks were flushed, her lips were tightly closed, slightly pouted, and her eyebrows were drooped, looking very aggrieved.
He couldn't help but mock: "Why are you pretending to be pitiful?"
When Song Xiang heard the noise, she turned to look at him, blinked her eyes, and then turned to look at the night scene outside the window in boredom.
Yan Han examined her expression and judged whether she was pretending.
He looked at Song Xiang for a long time, looking pitiful with his mouth turned down, without any trace of pretense.
"I haven't improved my drinking ability in five years." He snorted softly and looked away.
As the car drove all the way to the shogunate, the environment on the road gradually became quieter. The road around the mountain was built perfectly, and the night scenery was amazing all the way up.
Song Xiang was lying by the window and couldn't help but sigh: "Stern cold, you bastard." That bitch is really rich.
Yan Han heard this clearly, turned her head suddenly, and stared at Song Xiang in shock. She was so drunk that she could still remember to call him a bastard. How much hatred must she feel?
"Song Xiang." The man called.
Song Xiang held her chin with one hand and looked at him with cold eyes, "Huh huh?"
She rarely showed such a coquettish look. Yan Han was a little stunned for no reason, then frowned again and turned away a little irritably.
He put his hands on his knees and fumbled with the fabric gently, and some discordant pictures came to his mind.
Song Xiang leaned aside, his mouth gradually became quiet, and he remained obediently motionless.
The car drove to the front of Huanshan Villa and Zhao Zhe pulled over.
"Mr. Yan, we're here."
Yan Yanhan glanced at Song Xiang next to him, thinking about the war between heaven and man in his mind.
"Sister Xiang drank too much and her feet are inconvenient. Do you want to send her back?" Zhao Zhe asked proactively.
Yan Han looked unhappy and seemed reluctant, "Help her in and let the housekeeper find a guest room."
Zhao Zhe nodded, "Okay."
After Yan Han finished speaking, he looked like he didn't care about Song Xiang. He turned around and got out of the car and walked straight to the villa.
It was close to twelve o'clock. Song Xiang was both drunk and sleepy at the same time, and her body was as soft as cotton candy. Even Zhao Zhe didn't hold her up when he came up to help her.
Zhao Zhe had no choice but to get too close to Song Xiang, so he could only go back and find two maids to help him.
Song Xiang was so soft that she would stick to anyone she caught, and she didn't want to move her legs at all.
The two maids worked together to help her in, and met the old housekeeper head-on.
"Uncle Yan, what should I do with this young lady?"
The old housekeeper was an old member of the Yan family. He was nearly seventy years old. He pushed up his glasses and saw that Song Xiang looked familiar.
"This is Mr. Yan's previous secretary-general." Zhao Zhe reminded.
The old housekeeper suddenly understood and raised his eyebrows slightly, "Go to the third floor."
The two maids looked at each other, a little surprised, but they didn't say anything and helped Song Xiang up more carefully.
Song Xiang felt like he was floating in the sky, obviously moving but not using any strength at all.
She felt so comfortable, she laughed strangely twice, and the next second she felt like she was sleeping on cotton.
"Would you please leave it here?"
"Young master won't be angry, right?"
"have no idea……"
Someone was speaking vaguely in her ears. Song Xiang tried to open her eyes, but her eyelids were too heavy. She took a deep breath. There was a pleasant smell of sunshine between her noses. The quilt must have been dried just now.
Forget it, go to sleep, even if it is a den of thieves, this treatment is perfect enough.