His lips curved into a reassuring smile as he extended a hand toward her.
The hand that came into view was well-defined with clear knuckles, slender and pale, with a simple band on the index finger, and the lines on the palm were deeply etched and meandering. Elegant yet powerful, like a piece of art.
The scene was already in turmoil.
President Ye hesitated about whether to go forward, but was pulled back by the secretary.
On the stage, Qiao Jingxue's figure swayed as if she might collapse, her complexion so poor it was hard to look at.
This woman really had her ways, on the one hand, she was hooking Zhao Hanchen, on the other, she remained entangled with Zhou Jingwei.
Zhou Jingwei, a man known for his cold heart and lack of affection, could he also possess feelings of pity and tenderness for women?
Even the thought of it was ridiculous.
Yet Cheng Weiyue, after a brief hesitation, placed her hand in Zhou Jingwei's palm.
Her hand was very small, very soft.