Mental contamination, Chu Yilan thought.
He had to admit, Young Master Feng could sometimes hit right where it hurt.
Sun Binghe was famously tough. If you targeted him, neither physical beatings nor psychological attacks did much good. But if you bared your own scars and sullied his ears with tragic numbers, then, provided you were close enough to him, you could indeed get an emotional reaction.
Like right now.
Four math exams in a row without scoring over twenty. What kind of human tragedy was this? Sun Binghe thought.
Feng Yueshan looked rather pleased with himself. "There's something even better. Want to hear it?"
Sun Binghe immediately raised a hand to stop him. Covering his eyes with the other, he leaned back against the sofa behind him, temporarily unwilling to speak.
Afraid he would laugh aloud, Shen Lian gulped down some tea.
A moment later, Sun Binghe said hoarsely, "Young Master Feng, could you stay at least three meters away from me? The air is so suffocating."
Sun Binghe was already drunk. With this added provocation, his reason and awareness were both teetering on the brink.
And Assistant Sun wasn't particularly capable of listening to anyone in this state.
Sun Binghe's body seemed to twitch slightly. This time, even Chu Yilan's expression shifted, never mind Shen Lian's.
Yet Feng Yueshan insisted on being an absolute menace. He leaned in, peering up at Sun Binghe from below, his tone innocent and cruel. "No way, Assistant Sun. Are you crying?"
"No," Sun Binghe said muffledly. "Just wondering what breed of pig you were in your past life."
Feng Yueshan said, "...Why are you making personal attacks now?"
When Sun Binghe lowered his hand, he hadn't cried, but his eyes were slightly red. His pupils looked unfocused, still stuck on those twenty points.