James and Popovich raised their glasses too, each taking a sip.
The three of them then admired the glow of the setting sun, drinking one glass after another.
By the time they finished the bottle, all three were tipsy.
Wang Yi wasn't good at drinking red wine. At that moment, all he could taste was bitterness.
But since he was drinking with the two of them, he had to manage somehow.
He had to swallow it despite the bitterness.
Popo and James, on the other hand, were savoring every sip.
After all, Wang Yi was guzzling his wine, while the other two were truly appreciating it.
By now, the sun had set.
The sky had grown dim.
A few stars appeared overhead.
Popo switched on one of the lights in the living room.
There was nothing fancy about it. It was just an ordinary ceiling light.
He dimmed it slightly, then opened another bottle and poured a glass for each of them, including himself.
Finally, he leaned back on the sofa with Wang Yi and James, gazing through the floor-to-ceiling windows at the few stars that had just appeared.
Popo posed a question:
"Who do you think is the strongest player in the league right now?"
James pointed at Wang Yi and laughed. "Old Popo, you're not getting senile, are you? The strongest player in the league is sitting right in front of us, and you're asking who it is?"
Wang Yi shook his head. "Popo means in the league right now, and I haven't recovered to a hundred percent yet. In my current condition, I can't really be called the strongest player."
Popovich took a sip of red wine too. "Wang, when I say strongest player, I mean across three areas: skill, mentality, and intelligence."
"Before our series, I