"Sorry, miss, according to the hotel rules, his attire is not appropriate, we can't..."
One of the security guards was about to say something more.
The other guard beside him, who looked a bit older, hurriedly stepped forward and cut him off.
"I'm sorry, President Jiang."
"He's a new hire, just started. He doesn't know you yet..."
President Jiang?
Han Zhan leaned back a little in disbelief, thinking he'd heard wrong.
He looked at Jiang Lingling again—her aura, her outfit—she really did have that upper-class vibe.
Who would've thought she was a career-type strongwoman too?
As Han Zhan was mulling it over, he suddenly realized his palm was touching something soft and warm. When he looked up, he met Jiang Lingling's warm, friendly smile.
She was holding his hand as she said, "Alright, let's go in."
"Everyone's waiting for us."
