Brilliant light poured down from above the stage, illuminating the sea of heads below. Every move Pei Yang made was plain to see, and the crowd shouted impatiently, "Do you even need to choose? Other than Director Feng, don't all the other directors smell like old people?"
A cold aura radiated from Feng Wanting. His brooding gaze fixed on the back of Pei Yang's head, fierce enough to burn right through him. Seeing Pei Yang still inching forward at his leisure, he angrily clamped down on his wrist. The movement was swift and ruthless, yanking him back.
In full view of everyone, Feng Wanting lowered his voice and threatened him at his ear. "You still want to hug someone else?"
The crowd gaped, then erupted into an uproar. Pei Yang was so startled that his heart nearly leaped into his throat.
What was Feng Wanting doing...?
Fortunately, there was no microphone near his mouth, and it was so noisy below that Pei Yang should have been the only one to hear him. He secretly breathed a sigh of relief and forced himself to sound composed. "It's such a big prize. I need to choose carefully."
"Are you doing this on purpose?" Feng Wanting's grip on Pei Yang's arm tightened, his accusing tone full of displeasure. "Trying to show everyone in the banquet hall how jealous I get?"
"!"
Pei Yang couldn't hold back a smile. The curve of his lips was like a hairline crack in thin ice, gone in an instant, yet its light spread through his eyes, clearer and colder than moonlight. He took a step toward Feng Wanting.
"Since Director Feng wants me to hug him so badly... I suppose I'll reluctantly-"
Before Pei Yang could finish, Feng Wanting pulled back his hand and hauled him into