"Li Zhiyan, come, sit."
Evelyn proactively stepped forward and took Li Zhiyan's hand. He noticed how exceptionally soft her delicate hands were, likely because they had never done any hard labor.
Well, that made sense. Someone like her—a wealthy woman who dabbles in superficial charity—probably didn't have much to do on a daily basis.
"President Jiang."
Li Zhiyan had always clearly remembered that Evelyn's Chinese name was Jiang Xiuning, but she much preferred her Western name, Evelyn.
"Li Zhiyan, about what happened earlier, Auntie already apologized to you. You're not mad anymore, right?"
"President Jiang has already apologized to me, so I'm not dwelling on it."
Though this woman had tried to mess with him for Jin Muxue's sake, he hadn't taken any real losses, so he harbored no lingering resentment.
"That's good to hear. Auntie will get you something to drink."
