In the business suite.
It was the dead of winter, and late at night besides. The heat from the air conditioner wasn't even turned up that high, yet sweat dripped from Dong Xuebin's forehead. It wasn't from drinking—he hadn't even managed two drinks from beginning to end, a drink and a half at most. Fang Wenping had scared the sweat out of him. He truly hadn't expected Old Fang to just flop down onto his bed like that. The robe over her back and thighs was wrinkled, and the hem behind her right leg had practically ridden up over her plump backside. She was still lying facedown, and from Dong Xuebin's angle, he could vaguely see a strip of black lace inside. She was bare on top, though she was wearing underwear below.
What was he supposed to do?
Carry her back to her room? That didn't seem appropriate either!
But if he didn't take her back, what was he supposed to do?
Dong Xuebin still couldn't figure her out. He cautiously looked at Fang Wenping on the bed and gently nudged her back. "Director Fang? Director Fang?"
"Mm." Fang Wenping responded.
Dong Xuebin said, "You really drank too much?"
Fang Wenping closed her eyes and said flatly, "Mm."
Dong Xuebin said, "I told you not to drink so much, didn't I? But you wouldn't listen. Look at you, look at you. Your alcohol tolerance was bad enough to begin with. What are you going to do now?"
Fang Wenping said nothing. She merely reached out, grabbed a pillow from the other side, tucked it beneath her neck, then closed her eyes again.
"You really can't get up?" Dong Xuebin asked.
Fang Wenping gave an mm and said, "Sleeping."
Dong Xuebin said helplessly, "Then where's your room card? I'll go