"Come, Young Master Xuanxiao, let me toast you again."
Li Xuanxiao drank another cup of wine.
This wine made one feel as though drifting among immortals; it was clearly no ordinary brew.
Bai Liu rose and lifted her wine cup.
"Come, Young Master Xuanxiao, let me toast you again, to thank you for saving my cousin."
Li Xuanxiao let out a breath. Of everyone at this table, he had drunk the most.
Seeing this, Bai Jing said, "Enough, don't keep forcing wine on Young Master Xuanxiao. He still has injuries."
Li Xuanxiao smiled and waved a hand.
Bai Liu said, "Young Master Xuanxiao looks like a man who can hold his liquor. What does this little bit of wine amount to?"
Lan Qing set down his cup with a smile that did not reach his eyes.
"Then we shall not drink. The old rules—let us compose poems and match couplets.
Young Master Xuanxiao, you are our guest. You go first."
Everyone's gaze fell on Li Xuanxiao, carrying a hint of amusement.
Li Xuanxiao was rubbing his head with one hand, half-drunk yet not drunk, half-awake yet not awake.
His eyes narrowed slightly, revealing a thoughtful expression that made others want to pry into his innermost thoughts.
A faint flush tinged his cheeks, adding a measure of life to his somewhat pale face.
His silver hair fell over both shoulders, stirring softly in the breeze like silver moonlight spilling over him.
"Young Master Xuanxiao, anything will do. No one will laugh at you," Bai Liu said with a beaming smile.
Li Xuanxiao said nothing.
"Brother Xuanxiao?" Lan Qing called again.
Li Xuanxiao still said nothing.
Bai Jing said, "Young Master Xuanxiao, if you truly are drunk, go back and rest first. You still have injuries."
Li Xuanxiao pondered for a long