"Yes, we just walked through the back alley of the restaurant and got covered in smoke from the exhaust pipe," Han Zhan nodded.
This statement was a bit of a linguistic art.
He acknowledged the truth in Punk's words without lying against his own conscience.
Upon hearing Han Zhan's words, Punk breathed a sigh of relief, and Aisha nodded as well.
"Sis, you must be hungry, I'll go prepare some food." Punk, seeing that his little detour to the bar had successfully gone unnoticed, cast a grateful look at Han Zhan and then headed to the kitchen.
This left Aisha and Han Zhan alone in the room, and the atmosphere instantly turned awkward.
Suddenly, Aisha stood up and approached Han Zhan, feeling her way forward.
"Mr. Zhan, may I have your hand?"
This abrupt request left Han Zhan momentarily stunned, but ultimately, he didn't refuse.
Han Zhan extended his hand into the air, lightly brushing against Aisha's.
She recoiled like a startled fawn. "Sorry... I'm so sorry..."
