Outside The Ninth Institute, Amadeus Yancey had just finished dealing with his affairs.
Sadam Vinson and Brian Bonette were also there, and the three of them made plans to find a clubhouse nearby to drink tea.
The light flower tea was just served, with its fragrance filling the air. The n leaned casually against the leather sofa behind them, their postures languid and at ease, holding phones, seemingly checking ssages.
Sadam Vinson originally wanted to organize a drinking party, but was dragged to drink tea instead by a vote of two to one. He had no interest in tea culture, lifting the delicate small teacup as if to chug it down, gulped it in one go, then thunked the cup back onto the table, waiting for the tea master in traditional costus to brew him another.
A handso face displayed a cynical expression, his impatient complaint laced with annoyance: "I’m saying, you two are both just in your twenties, why do you live like old n? Isn’t Rivendell great? Insisting on coming here for tea. I can’t taste any difference between the tea here and the one brewed at ho, isn’t it all just a few leaves floating in water?"
"Tsk, keep that talk for when you’re with us here, but don’t say that outside," Brian Bonette, dressed in a blue shirt, buttoned up to the very top, his slender nape wrapped in the collar, exuded a strong sense of abstinence, looking very serious and upright like a proper gentleman.
Sadam Vinson scoffed at his act of a cultured rogue: "So what if I say it, I don’t believe they would dare to bite ."
He glanced at Brian Bonette, who seed utterly at ease, smacked his lips, and said: "Can’t you stop showing off? When we were kids, you were the one who viciously fought on top of , where has that ferocity gone? Now if I give you a string of Buddhist beads, can you chant Amitabha with ?"
Brian Bonette is quite similar in temperant to Amadeus.
But Amadeus, well, only seems easygoing in front of Nathalie. In front of others, he exudes an aura that makes him seem not to be trifled with.
Unlike Brian, who always appears to be smiling amiably, seemingly harmless to humans and animals alike.
But in the whole of Beijing, who doesn’t know that the first person you shouldn’t provoke is Amadeus, and the second is this smiling tiger, Brian.
Full of cunning tricks, so crafty!
Sadam Vinson lifted the teacup as large as a palm again, drank restlessly in one gulp, and after just ten minutes, he was getting a bit restless.
After ribbing Brian, his gaze turned to the man leisurely browsing his phone on the opposite sofa. His eyes shifted as if he had rembered sothing, and he asked: "Speaking of which, Amadeus, where’s Nathalie today? Is she ho?"
The man playing with his phone looked up, his eyes dangerously squinting.
Sadam Vinson was still oblivious to the danger, continuing to tease edges of doom: "If she’s at ho, I’ll co over to your place to play gas with her later."
"Not at ho." Amadeus Yancey put down his phone, tapped his fingers on the side of the phone, leaning back lazily, and looked towards Sadam Vinson: "She went to a fashion show."
"A fashion show?" For a mont, Sadam Vinson couldn’t connect Nathalie Quinlan to fashion shows, felt dizzy for a second before realizing, enlighteningly: "You an that SEVEN show?"
Soone from his family had also gone to watch it, so he vaguely knew about the event.
But as a man, he had no interest in fashion shows.
Sadam Vinson was indeed surprised that Nathalie liked SEVEN’s products: "Nathalie likes SEVEN stuff? I thought she usually wears sweaters or T-shirts when going out, I thought she wasn’t into these things. Seems like all won are the sa after all, all loving clothes, bags, and jewelry. No worries, if she likes it, I’ll gift her a few items another day."
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