Part 2
“Ah?”
He doesn’t know?
He doesn’t know!
Wen Rong’s eyes widened. “You don’t know?”
“Why should I care?” Zhou Xie rolled his eyes.
“No, no, no…” Wen Rong was so excited his voice trembled. He probed tentatively, “Thank you for bringing me back last night.”
“You should thank the waiter at the shop and Shi Ye’s driver. They were the ones who carried you.”
“Is that so!”
“?” Zhou Xie frowned. “Why are you so excited?”
“Nothing…”
“Forget it, I’m not interested. Continue with your thoughts.”
Zhou Xie just wanted to finish the lesson quickly and go home to cook. It was rare for his father to be able to come home for dinner. Besides, seeing Wen Rong now made him inexplicably angry.
Don’t blame him; no one has a good temper toward a person who gets belligerently drunk.
“Then you have it.”
Time rewound to last night. The Mojito slid gently across the glass table five or six centimeters. Judging by Wen Rong’s posture, he really wanted him to drink it.
But Wen Rong suddenly reached out, snatched the glass back, took a fierce sip, and smiled with a flushed face. “Not giving it to you. It’s over a hundred a cup.”
Zhou Xie was speechless. He said to Leon, “Is he drunk?”
“The alcohol content should be substantial. With so many customers, this place wouldn’t dare dilute the alcohol with water.” Leon reached out to take Wen Rong’s Mojito away. “But it was only one mouthful. Shouldn’t be enough to get drunk.”
“Not… drunk…”
Wen Rong answered with a drawl. He stood up holding the table, spun around crookedly on the spot—no one understood what he was doing.
“He’s definitely drunk,” Zhou Xie concluded.
Wen Rong froze, then pushed the Mojito in Zhou Xie’s direction again. “Then you have it!”
This sentence sounded familiar.
Before Zhou Xie could recall, Wen Rong suddenly grabbed the glass and poured it into his mouth.
This action seemed to have been performed once just now.
Zhou Xie’s look at Wen Rong gradually shifted from “looking at an annoying pest” to “looking at an idiot.”
“Ah—” The idiot swallowed a mouthful of alcohol happily, wiped his mouth carelessly with his sleeve, and yelled, “I’m going to fight a tiger!”
“…”
“…”
Pfft. Zhou Xie couldn’t hold it back. He took out his phone and opened the camera to aim at Wen Rong. Leon reached out and covered the lens. “Don’t film.”
Then he signaled Wen Rong. “Wen Rong, the performance is starting downstairs.”
The dim yellow light couldn’t illuminate the flush on Wen Rong’s face, but he hung his head and asked, “Senior, do you want a taste?” dragging out every syllable, looking every bit the drunkard.
Thus, they fell into a “ghost hitting the wall” loop.
Some people cry when drunk, some release malice, some become bold. Wen Rong demonstrated the stubbornness in his bones—he had to ask one sentence three times, and even after getting an answer, he would ask again.
Zhou Xie witnessed Leon’s patience as a researcher for the first time.
After Wen Rong’s repetition, the Mojito finally hit the bottom. Just as Zhou Xie wanted to ask Leon if they should go back, Leon’s phone rang with a call he absolutely had to take.
The sound of the door closing. Wen Rong suddenly perked up. “Senior, I have a fever. I want to go to the hospital.”
“…” Zhou Xie: “Your Senior isn’t here.”
“Senior, I have a fever. I want to go to the hospital.”
Zhou Xie suspected Wen Rong would keep asking, so he answered irritably, “You don’t.”
Subsequently, Zhou Xie used seven or eight different ways to tell Wen Rong he didn’t have a fever.
But the effect was zero.
The most painful part was that Leon called to say he had to go to the main institute of the research base immediately and asked him to take Wen Rong back.
For the first time, Zhou Xie felt resistance.
After sitting silently for a few minutes to adjust his emotions, Zhou Xie finally got up to pull Wen Rong.
“Senior, touch it. I really have a fever.”
Before he could touch Wen Rong, Wen Rong suddenly reached for his pants. Zhou Xie had quick eyes and hands; he took a step back and escaped disaster.
The way Wen Rong stared blankly with both hands raised was somewhat laughable. His eyes were wide, looking exactly like a kid whose candy had been stolen.
“Heh.”
Zhou Xie couldn’t help mocking him, but in the next second, the belt made a snap sound, and a sharp pain shot through his lower abdomen.
A dense numbness became clear as fingertips approached. Zhou Xie tensed all over. “Hiss—what are you doing?”
“Senior, touch my forehead. I really have a fever.”
“…”
Is this touching? Where the hell are you ramming your forehead?!
Zhou Xie hurriedly inserted his hand between Wen Rong’s head and his pants, forcibly pressing against his head to push him away, while grabbing his phone to call the waiter to come up and deal with Wen Rong.
“Senior, that song is so noisy. Don’t want to listen anymore.”
Zhou Xie sneered. “You insisted on coming.”
“Senior, I want to go to your house. I like Senior.”
Zhou Xie froze abruptly. Exerting force with his hand, he propped Wen Rong’s head up so it tilted back.
“You like Leon?” he couldn’t help asking.
“Hehe.” Wen Rong giggled foolishly, headbutting Zhou Xie’s palm hard, and loudly said, “Mn.”
“I am not Leon.”
“I like Senior.”
Zhou Xie moved his hand from the forehead to Wen Rong’s cheek, pinching the cheek that didn’t have much flesh, and repeated again, “I am not Leon.”
Wen Rong was forced to purse his lips, still trying hard to smile. “I like Senior.”
“I am not Leon.”
“I like Senior.”
“I am not Leon.”
…
It wasn’t until the waiter from Xian Zhuo arrived that Zhou Xie realized he had been caught in a loop with a drunkard.
Truly stupid.
Zhou Xie released Wen Rong, let the waiter carry him into the car, and then called Shi Ye, telling him to have someone wait at the estate gate to deal with this drunkard Wen Rong.
Last night was definitely the most annoying night he had experienced recently—even more annoying than finding out Wen Rong had run away.
“Is this okay?”
An annoying voice entered his ears from reality.
Zhou Xie sent a message to the driver, then said, “Let’s leave it at this for today. I have to go home to cook.”
“Ah? You know how to cook?”
“None for you.” Zhou Xie put away his phone. “I’m leaving. Search for lessons online yourself. If you don’t understand, ask me on Black Pigeon.”
“Okay.”
Wen Rong was left alone in the study. It was quiet; outside the window, birds perched on the sill, chirping away.
Wen Rong had no heart to enjoy it.
Not Zhou Xie.
Not Senior.
Not Shi Ye.
Then who was it?!
Wen Rong buried his head on the table. For a moment, he even thought he had just dreamed it all last night.
But the wound on his lip hurt very authentically.
Really can’t drink anymore.
Learning that Zhou Xie had left in a car, Shi Ye quickly escaped from Wang Xijie’s grasp and returned to the second floor.
As soon as he entered, he saw Wen Rong lying on the table, looking like he was crying. He instantly felt guilty.
Guilty for what? Leon didn’t even admit it!
Shi Ye stood secretly at the door, wishing he could go back to last night and punch himself.
Last night, Shi Ye finished training, and the nutritionist happened to have finished making the chocolate. Thinking of the teeth marks on the chocolate, he couldn’t resist bringing it to Wen Rong immediately. Ideally, Wen Rong would eat half and leave the other half for him.
He was too excited; he even forgot the fact that Wen Rong had been taken out by them and got drunk.
Knock, knock, knock.
Click—
The knock and the opening of the door happened almost simultaneously.
Shi Ye suppressed the corners of his mouth. “I brought you chocolate. Do you want some?”
After speaking, he realized the room was pitch black. Wen Rong was squinting, leaning half his body against the door.
Shi Ye panicked instantly. “You were asleep? I didn’t mean to wake you.”
Just as his voice fell, Wen Rong, who was leaning on the door, slipped onto the floor with a swish. It scared Shi Ye into reaching out to pull him. The chocolates scattered around his feet.
Wen Rong was very light; actually, he could be picked up with one hand. But Shi Ye, afraid he was unwell, slowly placed him on the floor, wanting to call a doctor to check his condition.
“@%$%……”
“What?” Shi Ye faintly heard a voice, but it was blurry, and he didn’t hear clearly.
“@%$%……”
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