Song Yan Ning watched Han Zaiye's retreating back, a glint of cold light flashing in her eyes.
"Doctor Song, I'll toast to you as well," Elder Jin struggled inwardly for a long time before deciding to toast Song Yan Ning. He couldn't bring himself to apologize, but he truly had some admiration for her. She was decisive and confident, not at all like a teenager.
Song Yan Ning poured herself a drink and raised it to clink glasses with Elder Jin. Elder Jin was about the same age as her grandfather, and she saw no need to hold a grudge against him. Besides, they were currently comrades in arms.
Han Zaiye glanced at his watch and looked towards Song Yan Ning. In no more than ten minutes, Song Yan Ning would fall into a coma. When he had toasted her, he had coated the rim of his own glass with a colorless and tasteless poison that would induce unconsciousness until the end of one's life once ingested.
