Seven years after transmigrating, he was cornered at the head of the bed by a cold and aloof empress

Chapter 116 Celebration Banquet: Su Qingge Gets Drunk and Insists on Pole Dancing

The lamb skewers in Lin Zhou's hand fell to the ground with a "thud," kicking up a small cloud of dust.

He didn't care about the sizzling, oily lamb he had just roasted; he sprang up from the plastic stool like a fully drawn bow.

Under the dim, slightly askew streetlamp, Su Qingge was hugging a rusty iron pole, her cheeks flushed, her eyes glazed, her body swaying seductively to an unknown rhythm. Her expensive haute couture trench coat hung half-draped over her shoulder, revealing a tightly knitted sweater underneath, her curves accentuated—the sight was simply…

It was incredibly beautiful, yet terrifyingly so.

"My little darling!"

Old Zhao, who was sitting at the next table, was reflecting on life when he saw this. He was so shocked that he crushed his wine glass and spilled wine all over his crotch without even realizing it.

"Quick! Stop her!"

General Counsel Zhang Wei turned pale and instinctively tried to rush forward to block the view, muttering incoherently:

"If this gets filmed, the stock price won't just plummet tomorrow, it'll be delisted! A pop diva doing a pole dance in the street? The entire PR department should be hanged!"

This is hardly a victory celebration banquet.

This is clearly a crisis for the public relations department!

"Hehe...this steel pipe...it's a bit thick, isn't it?"

Su Qingge was completely unaware that she was creating an epic public relations disaster. Hugging the cold, damp utility pole—which even had a sign that read "Cure for Infertility"—she frowned in annoyance and patted it.

"It...it even crumbles? This is the stage you prepared? Thumbs down!"

Although she complained, her body still pressed against it, her long legs even tentatively trying to wrap around it.

That drunken state, somewhere between innocence and allure, was like a nuclear bomb about to explode in this bustling night market.

"Don't buy it! Absolutely don't buy it!"

Lin Zhou rushed forward in one stride, his heart almost stopping in fright.

This is a lamppost! It's covered in old, worn-out wires!

"Honey! Let go! That's a streetlight! It's electrified! People will die!"

He roared and reached out to pry Su Qingge's fingers off.

"Is there electricity?"

Su Qingge paused, turned her head in a daze, and her usually cold and aloof eyes were now watery, as if filled with starlight.

She looked at Lin Zhou, then suddenly laughed foolishly, and poked Lin Zhou's chest with a finger:

"There's electricity... Great! I love things that are electrified... Like when you sang just now, it electrified me..."

"..."

Lin Zhou's legs went weak at the sudden sweet talk, and his face turned red.

But this is clearly not the time for flirting.

"Stop fooling around, be good, let's go home."

Lin Zhou forcibly pulled her hand off the telephone pole, trying to control the drunkard.

But a drunk woman can have astonishing strength.

Su Qingge didn't know where the strength came from, but she shook off Lin Zhou's hand and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, hanging on him like a koala.

"I'm not going home! I haven't danced yet!"

She pressed her burning cheek against Lin Zhou's neck, her warm breath brushing against his skin, her voice so soft and sweet it sent shivers down his spine.

"Lin Zhou...you sang so beautifully just now, I want to dance for you too."

"Let's dance to that... that song called 'Love You'! I can dance to it too! I dance it better than you!"

As she spoke, she actually started to wriggle in Lin Zhou's arms.

Her soft, delicate body pressed tightly against Lin Zhou, rubbing against him until he felt hot all over, his anger rising to the top of his head.

"This is ridiculous! My goodness!"

Lin Zhou gritted his teeth, the veins on his forehead throbbing.

This is sweet torture!

"No! I'm going to jump!"

Su Qingge threw a tantrum in his arms, cupping his face in her hands, her eyes hazy yet unusually earnest, with a stubbornness unique to drunkenness:

"I'll only dance for you... I won't let anyone else see... just like your abs are only for me to see..."

This love confession is incredibly powerful.

Several executives who had originally intended to come up and help stopped in their tracks, exchanging bewildered glances with a variety of expressions on their faces.

Who am I? Where am I? Why am I eating dog food here?

Just then, the surrounding diners finally realized what was happening.

The beautiful woman who was hugging the telephone pole just now looks more and more familiar to me.

"Holy crap? Isn't that Su Qingge?"

"It really seems so! That's Lin Zhou next to him!"

"The diva is drunk? Quick! Take a picture! This is big news!"

Suddenly, diners who were engrossed in eating skewers pulled out their phones, flashes going off everywhere, and countless cameras were pointed at them.

"not good!"

Lin Zhou's eyes sharpened.

If Su Qingge were photographed drunk and out of control and the photos were posted online, even the best public relations team wouldn't be able to clear her name!

"Honey, I'm sorry!"

He gave a low shout and no longer hesitated.

Lin Zhou suddenly bent down, put one hand under Su Qingge's legs and the other hand around her back, and with a deep breath, gave her a standard princess carry.

"what!"

Su Qingge gasped and instinctively buried her face in his chest.

"Stop filming! Stop filming!"

Lin Zhou pressed Su Qingge's face tightly against his chest, using his height advantage and broad back to block most of the camera's view.

His sharp gaze swept over the crowd of people holding up their phones. As he strode towards the Cullinan, he roared at the still-stunned executives, his voice booming:

"What are you standing there for? You're blocking the camera!"

Old Zhao and Zhang Wei then seemed to wake up from their daze, quickly took off their suit jackets, and formed a human wall around Lin Zhou as if escorting a head of state.

Excuse me! Excuse me! Please make way!

Lin Zhou, carrying Su Qingge, moved with incredible speed, carving a bloody path through the crowded throng.

Some people, unwilling to give up, held up their phones and pressed for more information:

"Lin Zhou! Has Su Qingge had too much to drink?"

"What just happened? Can you respond?"

Lin Zhou didn't stop. He opened the car door and first put the woman in his arms, who was still whimpering restlessly, into the back seat.

Then he turned around and blocked the car door.

Facing the gossipy eyes around him, Lin Zhou straightened his disheveled collar and revealed an extremely calm, even somewhat indulgent, smile:

"Everyone, let's all disperse, let's all disperse."

"Nothing big news."

He pointed to the car, his tone as casual as if he were talking about something trivial:

"The proprietress was just too happy and had a couple too many drinks. She insisted on performing a talent for me."

"So, in order not to affect the appearance of the city, I have no choice but to take her home first."

"Everyone should go to bed early; staying up late is bad for your skin."

After saying that, he casually climbed into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut, cutting off all prying eyes.

The Cullinan let out a deep rumble, like a black beast, and quickly disappeared into the night.