On an August night, some were having sweet dreams, while others were unable to sleep through the night. Meanwhile, far away in the suburbs of the Capital, a certain estate was bustling with toasting and drinking, the banquet yet to conclude.
Chiang Qing had never experienced such humiliation and embarrassment. She had thought that just becoming the mistress of the perverted Gao Hongbo was already her limit. But unexpectedly, he had gone further, demanding her to keep these people company drinking.
Looking at those old geezers with age spots, Chiang Qing felt like vomiting, yet she still forced a smile on her face.
Chiang Qing fiddled with a necklace hanging in front of her chest. Attached to it was a bronze key, very old. It was something she had found in the ancient house in Jiangnan, after much effort, days ago.
