“Just a single sentence from you and he doesn’t even want to drink anymore.”0

Watching Xue Canghai eagerly make his way to the Blood God Cult’s camp, Wan Dongliu sighed. “Wouldn’t this count as manipulating people’s minds?”0

Zhao Changhe plopped down in the seat Xue Canghai had just vacated, took a swig of the wine, and exhaled contentedly. “You’re overthinking it. Why not just assume that Old Xue isn’t interested in drinking with you since you aren’t that close? I mean, you’re from entirely different generations, so it wouldn’t be strange if he doesn’t feel like drinking with you.”0

Wan Dongliu replied, “I didn’t feel anything like that. Moreover, he got beaten by Yue Hongling, and I got beaten by you. In terms of hierarchy, we’re pretty much on equal footing.”0

“Pfft…” Zhao Changhe almost spat out his wine. So the two of you were bonding over your shared experiences of getting beaten up?0

Wan Dongliu remained expressionless. “If he doesn’t feel close to me, then why was he sitting here talking nonsense with me just now?”0

“He was just waiting for me.” Zhao Changhe chuckled faintly. “Isn’t it the same with you? Otherwise, how could the two of you end up drinking in the Wang Clan’s estate? You both have subordinates to manage. If you were drinking for leisure, it’d be with them, not each other.”0

Wan Dongliu finally smiled. “True....0