C3 Throw Her down for Me!

After tossing Wen Mian into Yih Qianbo's car, Lu Yuan was dismissed by Yih.

Zhang, the driver, sat in the front seat and noticed through the rearview mirror a stunning yet completely inebriated woman leaning against his boss's shoulder. He couldn't help but furrow his brow. Since when did his boss have a taste for this sort of thing?

He didn't dare to say much, so he just cleared his throat and asked, "Sir, are we heading home?"

Yih Qianbo crossed his legs, his custom-tailored trousers showing not a single crease, and his polished leather shoes gently swayed.

He didn't rush to answer Zhang. Instead, with a playful expression, he turned his head slightly to look at the woman resting on his shoulder. Using his index finger, he gently brushed aside the strands of hair that had fallen over her face.

What was revealed was a face that was both exquisite and tastefully beautiful.

Yih Qianbo clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, and after a moment, his lips parted slightly, "To the Green Hotel."

Zhang was a bit surprised by Yih's words and widened his eyes. Although it was somewhat expected, hearing the boss actually say it was still a bit unbelievable.

The car moved smoothly, but Wen Mian had always been prone to motion sickness, which was why she never sat in the back seat. Today, with the alcohol in her system and sitting in the back, she felt a warm sensation rising in her chest, even in her unconscious state, as if it wanted to escape through her mouth.

Wen Mian kept her eyes tightly shut, feeling utterly miserable. She swayed as she sat up, instinctively bending forward to relieve the pressure in her chest...

Yih Qianbo watched as Wen Mian looked like she was about to throw up in his car, his brow furrowing instantly. He raised his hand, hovering it in the air, fighting the urge to open the door and push her out.

"Stop the car!"

At his command, Zhang didn’t hesitate and immediately hit the brakes...

Wen Mian, who was leaning forward to vomit, was jolted by the sudden stop and hit her head on the seat back. The urge to vomit vanished, leaving only a few dry heaves.

Zhang glanced in the rearview mirror at his boss's face, which was as cold as ice. Everyone in the city knew about his boss’s severe germophobia. The thought made Zhang inhale sharply, silently hoping this young woman wouldn’t get him in trouble.

The car was filled with awkward silence, broken only by Wen Mian's dry heaving.

Yih Qianbo narrowed his eyes, his voice devoid of emotion as he said, "Get her out of here."

He spoke each word deliberately, and Zhang held his breath as he quickly replied, "Yes, sir."

With that, he got out of the car and opened the back door. Just as he was about to grab Wen Mian's shoulders, she squinted her eyes and smiled, wrapping her arms around the man's arm beside her. Boldly, she leaned in close, inhaled deeply near his neck, and cheerfully said, "You smell so nice..."

Before Yih Qianbo could react, Wen Mian had already pressed her lips against his handsome cheek. Yih Qianbo turned his head, gritting his teeth as he looked at the woman, her eyes glazed from intoxication. Did she just kiss him?

He was about to say something when he noticed she was already smiling and had drifted back to sleep.

“Sir, should I... should I still... throw her out?” Zhang felt like he was losing his mind. This was something he had only dared to think, never to say. But somehow, the words slipped out.

He kept his head down, terrified that his boss might take it out on him, not daring to breathe too loudly.

Yih Qianbo looked up at the woman, who seemed to be having a sweet dream, her face full of smiles. His dark eyes lowered slightly, his voice as calm as ever: “Drive.”

Zhang took the order, quickly got into the driver’s seat, and continued toward the Green Hotel.

This woman had called him a gigolo and said she wanted to keep him, which was bad enough. But now she was taking advantage of being drunk to get close to him? Yih Qianbo had known since he was young that there’s no such thing as a free lunch. If that’s the case, she shouldn’t blame him for taking advantage of the situation. As they say, what goes around comes around.

The expensive car slowly merged into the traffic under the night sky, adding a striking touch to the city’s vibrant nightlife.

The car pulled up to the hotel entrance, and a valet immediately opened the door. When the two valets saw Yih Qianbo carrying a woman out of the car, their eyes widened in surprise.

Zhang got out of the car and waited. Yih Qianbo glanced coolly at the two valets and gave a slight nod. Zhang then pulled some bills from his pocket and handed them to the valets, who quickly thanked him.

"You can head back. I'll call if I need anything," Yih instructed, carrying the unconscious Wen Mian through the hotel's revolving doors.

"Hello, may I help you..." The receptionist was busy with some paperwork and only noticed a shadow approaching. When she looked up, she froze in shock.

Was this really the first time Director Yih was visiting his own hotel, and in such a manner? He was carrying a woman who was clearly passed out, her alcohol-laden scent noticeable even to the receptionist. Yet, the big boss showed no sign of disdain.

As the receptionist regained her composure, Yih Qianbo said nothing, simply fixing her with a cold stare.

She cleared her throat. "Good evening, Director Yih. We've prepared the presidential suite for you on the eighth floor. A valet will escort you."

"No need, I can manage," he replied, striding gracefully toward the elevator.

The receptionist watched Wen Mian's tall, slender figure disappear and found herself starry-eyed once again.

When Wen Mian started to regain consciousness, she realized her wrists were bound behind her, making it hard to move. She blinked sleepily and noticed she was kneeling, her gaze meeting a glaring European-style wall lamp. She tried to speak but found her mouth dry, unable to make a sound.

Suddenly, she felt warmth against her back, as if something was pressed close to her. A pair of hands wrapped around her waist. Instinctively, Wen Mian tried to twist away, but waves of dizziness overwhelmed her, leaving her unable to resist. Unbeknownst to her, these unconscious movements only piqued the interest of the person behind her.

Her mind drifted back to the bar earlier, and she frowned, surprised at how skilled this guy was. He must be quite experienced. "Didn't expect you to be so into this," she mumbled, her words slurred and broken, yet clear enough for Yih Qianbo to understand. "I'm not into this, let me go."

She tried to turn her head to see him, but Yih Qianbo grabbed her chin, his voice soft yet precise, "Regretting it now? Might be... a little too late."

After speaking, he firmly grasped her chin, turning her head slightly, and pressed his lips against hers with intensity...