A Gift? Lin Ming in League with Them?

Lin Ming remained seated. He did not stand, merely casually lifted the wine cup before him toward the people below, then drained it in one gulp.

The gesture was casual, even carrying a hint of perfunctoriness. Yet it did nothing to dampen everyone's enthusiasm. They all emptied their cups, as though they were drinking not wine, but supreme glory.

A trace of displeasure flashed through Liu Wuxin's eyes, but he quickly concealed it. He sat down and clapped his hands.

At once, groups of beautiful maidservants in light gauze dresses, their figures graceful and alluring, filed in like butterflies among flowers, carrying all manner of delicacies.

Every dish was exquisitely arranged and fragrant, clearly prepared with the finest ingredients. Fine wines were served in an endless stream as well, all rare vintages seldom seen on the market and worth a fortune.

The banquet officially began. The melodious sounds of strings and wind instruments rose, while dancers began to sway gracefully. Below, the guests exchanged cups and conversed with one another, and the atmosphere gradually became lively. Yet at the main table, the mood was somewhat subtle.

Lin Ming merely helped himself to food and wine, occasionally sampling the dishes before him. When Liu Wuxin and the others toasted him or tried to strike up a conversation, he only nodded or gave brief replies. He spoke very little, his expression indifferent.

Xiao Wuhen drank in silence, his face dark, as though the fine wine and delicacies before him were poison that burned through the gut.

Though Liu Wuxin, Su Zhenghao, Li Wanjun, and the others still wore smiles, embarrassment and a hint of impatience gradually surfaced in their eyes.

When had they ever received such a cold reception? Especially from a mere brat. But when they thought of his identity as