"Wang Xiong? Are you even listening to me?" An Rou's voice finally reached his ears.
Wang Xiong finally snapped out of his daze and replied somewhat perfunctorily, "Huh? What did you say?"
An Rou followed his gaze and couldn't help but tease, "What's wrong? Were you intimidated by the aura at the head table?"
"Not really..."
Wang Xiong shook his head, picked up a piece of food, but soon his gaze was unconsciously drawn back to the head table.
An Rou was also carefully dressed tonight, with a new haircut, light makeup, and a gentle light-colored dress paired with flesh-colored stockings and nude high heels, looking fresh and lovely. However, being a stocking enthusiast and a fan of mature women, Wang Xiong's gaze was completely captivated by the mature and elegant female executives at the head table, leaving him no time to notice the youthful beauty beside him.
He kept looking in that direction, and then his eyes unexpectedly met those of the Administrative Director, Chen Yuting.
The 35-year-old female executive held a crystal champagne glass, her mature charm accentuated by a wine-red velvet dress. Her beautiful legs, encased in sheer black stockings, were faintly visible beneath the hem.
"Speaking of which, the backstage area this afternoon was really thrilling. Nobody knew how those three people sneaked in," Chen Yuting remarked in her uniquely gentle voice. "If it weren't for that Wang Xiong suddenly appearing…"
"Yes," Financial Director Murong Ya chimed in, her stockinged legs rubbing slightly under the table. "Speaking of which, shouldn't we invite today's heroes over for a toast?"
Operations Director Su Yuan, standing nearby, also became interested. Her chestnut-brown hair was slightly wavy and casually draped over her shoulders. She wore a deep purple V-neck bodycon dress, her legs encased in sheer black stockings, and black patent leather high heels.
She had missed the afternoon press conference due to a business trip, so she spoke up, "I haven't heard the specifics of what happened yet. Why don't we ask this young hero to tell us?"
The other female executives also turned around, their eyes filled with curiosity and approval.
"Wang Xiong," Chen Yuting gestured to him with her glass, "come and chat with us. You can sit here." She pointed to the empty seat between Xia Ling and Shang Yan, a spot conveniently illuminated by the crystal chandelier.
An Rou watched in surprise as Wang Xiong stood up. The low-level porter Shang Yan used to toss around every day was now unusually composed, straightening his sloppy clothes, his demeanor remarkably calm, as if he had become a different person.
At the head table, Xia Ling's body stiffened slightly, her legs unconsciously bringing together beneath her champagne-colored silk dress. Shang Yan frowned, her black stilettos tapping lightly under the table, but the atmosphere was already tense, and under everyone's gaze, they couldn't say much.
"I can't believe how young he is, he's probably still a minor."
Su Yuan said softly to Ling Yun beside her, adjusting the neckline of her dark purple pencil skirt.
"Yes, I heard he's a high school student, here for an internship, working in the warehouse."
Ling Yun nodded slightly, her beautiful legs in stockings elegantly crossed beneath her dark green cheongsam.
"I think the way he looked at us was a bit lewd," Murong Ya whispered, but quickly added, "But he's not simple, being able to step up and save President Xia at a crucial moment." She spoke while gently running her fingers through a stray hair at her temple.
Chen Yuting, meanwhile, observed Wang Xiong approaching with interest, her burgundy velvet dress subconsciously shifting to the side to make more room for this "little hero."
All eyes in the banquet hall were focused on this high school student dressed in sloppy casual clothes.
The employees at each table glanced sideways and whispered among themselves.
"Who's that kid? Is he also from our company?"
"I heard he's an intern personally recruited by President Xia, working in the warehouse."
"I heard he did a great job at the press conference this afternoon."
"I've met President Xia's son, Xiao Wei. This kid must be a relative of President Xia, right?"
Wang Xiong, holding a glass of champagne, walked unhurriedly to the head table. His short figure possessed an air of sophistication beyond his years, an inexplicable composure in his every move.
"President Xia," Wang Xiong said, first approaching Xia Ling, his gaze lingering unabashedly on her, "this champagne-colored silk dress makes you look exceptionally charming tonight," he deliberately lowered his voice, "no less stunning than the evening gown you wore this afternoon..."
Xia Ling's expression changed slightly, but under everyone's gaze, she could only force a smile and raise her glass in return. She could feel Wang Xiong's fingers intentionally or unintentionally brushing against the back of her hand as they clinked glasses.
"Director Shang," Wang Xiong turned to Shang Yan, his tone subtly provocative, "your bespoke suit today is truly impressive, especially those grey stockings…they're particularly beautiful."
Shang Yan's fingers, holding her wine glass, turned slightly white, but given her status as today's "hero," she could only manage a forced reply: "Mm."
"Wang Xiong, Wang Xiong, come sit here."
Chen Yuting gestured to Wang Xiong, pointing to an empty seat between Xia Ling and Shang Yan.
As he sat down, Wang Xiong deliberately leaned close to Xia Ling's ear: "Sister Xia, you smell so good…"
This seemingly respectful gesture actually caused Xia Ling to involuntarily shrink back. At the same time, his knee inadvertently brushed against Shang Yan's stockings, earning him a fierce glare.
In this circle of mature women, Wang Xiong appeared outwardly polite and well-mannered, but his underhanded actions never ceased. He would "accidentally" brush against Xia Ling's silk-stockinged legs beneath her skirt at times, and at others, he would brush against Shang Yan's knee while pretending to adjust a napkin.
"To be honest," he said, raising his glass with a humble air, "I just happened to be passing by the dressing room..."
In his subsequent narration, he subtly interspersed ambiguous details, such as describing the wrinkles in Xia Ling's cheongsam when she was bound, the subtle marks on her stockings, and even hinting at her panicked expression. These might sound like mere details to an outsider, but to Xia Ling, they were filled with humiliation.
Xia Ling suppressed her anger, elegantly holding her glass, but felt Wang Xiong's hand constantly testing her limits under the tablecloth. Shang Yan noticed this as well, but was powerless to do anything in this situation.
He held the glass in one hand, and with the other, he lifted Xia Ling's skirt under the table, stroking her silk-stockinged legs upwards, his fingertips occasionally pinching the inside of her thigh.
"Hmm..."