Pope Bibi Dong's arrival did not interrupt the wedding.
Tang San, Oscar, and Ma Hongjun kept refilling the cup in Yang Ming's hand, urging him to drink.
"Come on, Boss Yang, have another!"
"It's not every day we have such a joyous occasion. We've got to enjoy ourselves to the fullest!"
"Good, beautifully done! That's the 8,041st cup already, isn't it? Boss Yang really is an immortal of wine. Incredible!"
No matter who offered him a drink, Yang Ming turned no one away.
He tipped his head back and downed another cup of strong liquor. The liquor cut like a blade, burning through every inch of his gut. Despite his extraordinary cultivation, and even secretly using his abilities to expel the alcohol from his body, Yang Ming was beginning to struggle. His head swam, his face was flushed wine-red, and every breath reeked of alcohol.
Tang San, Oscar, and Ma Hongjun exchanged glances, suppressing wicked grins.
Sometimes, friendship between men really was that simple.
With such a rare chance to gather with Yang Ming, the three mischievous friends took turns drinking with him and egging everyone on, drawing plenty of distinguished guests into their relay assault. They were determined to drink Yang Ming under the table.
Yet Yang Ming's fighting prowess was truly impressive. Half the distinguished guests had already collapsed from drinking, while he remained firmly on his feet, refusing to fall even after all this time.
"Buuurp..."
Oscar let out a drunken belch, half reclining against his chair. His flirtatious eyes had almost turned into little tadpoles, swirling with dizziness. With his eyelids half closed and a bottle still one-third full in his hand, he muttered:
"Drink, keep drinking. Today, I'm not stopping until Boss Yang and I are both drunk!"
As he spoke, Oscar tried to stagger