Watching Tang Bing suddenly turn her head and mutter a reply, Fang Ran wondered what nonsense she was thinking about this time.
"Ahem. So we need to find a group to blend into, right?"
Then, the next second, Tang Bing clenched her fist and pretended to cough twice. She carefully took the champagne from his hand, staring at the pale golden, rich liquid and wondering how much a single glass would cost outside.
"Yeah. Remember to find a topic that's simple enough for us to jump into."
Watching her take a curious little sip, then have her eyes light up after tasting its sweetness, Fang Ran's dark eyes flickered. Looking out the window, he confirmed that the people gathered near them, on the very edge of the venue, were all young.
"This way."
He then led Tang Bing past decorative stands with vases and oil paintings hanging from the ballroom pillars. They deliberately slowed their pace as they passed the young people chatting animatedly, quietly listening in on their conversations with the power of the Wind Spirit.
A standard ball usually lasted until late at night, so leaving midway would not seem unusual. With that timing in mind,
the first thing Fang Ran needed to figure out was how to survive the ten-odd minutes of "small talk" before the host made an appearance.
This time, Si Ai was not here to lead him around.
"So, Gourd, did you hear any groups that would be easy to join?"
In the brilliant, brightly lit ballroom, she linked arms with the suited figure beside her as they moved through the crowd. Her nervousness mixed with her racing heartbeat, becoming a strange, fluttering feeling.
"Mm, over there. Those people are talking about how one of them bought an oil painting at an auction."
Tang