Facing a high-grade martial artist of the Golden Core Realm tier who was nearly unbeatable at close range among his peers, Su Qingdai still had killing intent and spiritual energy surging within her, ready to erupt violently. However, after a few moments of silence, she still did not move.
Because a warm, large hand had enveloped Su Qingdai's tightly clenched left fist.
Zhao Rong took hold of his maid's hand and smiled as he commanded, "Pour the wine."
Su Qingdai was silent for three breaths before extending her pale, trembling hand to grasp the wine pot, her pouring shaky and spilling wine over the brim of Zhou Dufu's cup.
However, the young Confucian scholar and the wealthy old man sitting at the table did not pay attention to this, nor did they even glance at the black-robed beauty trembling beside them.
