"Two guests, sir?"
The hotel receptionist was a man who glanced up, flashing a faintly amused look at Chen Yang and Wang Qingyue.
"That's right, two. Get me the two best rooms you have, preferably next to each other." Chen Yang responded casually, pulling out his ID from his pocket.
But when the receptionist heard this, he froze for a moment, then shook his head and said, "I'm sorry, sir, but we only have one presidential suite left."
"Only one left?" Chen Yang looked surprised on the surface but was secretly thrilled inside. Was this fate giving him an opportunity?
"Are there any rooms a tier below?" Before Chen Yang could relish the moment, Wang Qingyue chimed in with her own question.
Hearing this, Chen Yang's secret delight abruptly vanished. He thought to himself, "There goes the opportunity."
