Though bayberry wine was a fruit wine, its alcohol content was quite high. In both his past life and his present one, Shen Shuangjian had never drunk a single sip of alcohol.
The three cups he had coaxed Xie Jinghui into drinking were nothing to Xie Jinghui; they had not made him the least bit tipsy.
But for Shen Shuangjian himself, a few mouthfuls were already enough to muddle his thoughts and leave his limbs weak.
"Mr. Xie..."
The hand Shen Shuangjian had propped against his forehead was losing strength. Though he had not lost since the third round, he had not spoken again either. He could barely even make out what the people beside him were saying.
"What's wrong?"
Xie Jinghui's attention had never been on who had lost or who had won. Holding Shen Shuangjian's hand, he leaned close to his ear, his voice as gentle as rippling spring water.
"I... I want to rest."
The unfamiliar drunkenness swept away all of Shen Shuangjian's reason. Frightened by the feeling of gradually losing control of his body, he instinctively sought help from Xie Jinghui, who had silently encroached on his life from the very beginning.
"My head's spinning. What do I do..."
His grip on Xie Jinghui's cuff tightened. Rather than pry his fingers loose and take his hand, Xie Jinghui simply held Shen Shuangjian's hand gently in return.
"Shuangjian."
Xie Jinghui suddenly leaned closer. As Shen Shuangjian sluggishly raised his head, Xie Jinghui exerted force through his forearm.
"Pardon me."
Too drunk to muster any strength, Shen Shuangjian only had time to lean against Xie Jinghui's shoulder as he was lifted, his arms loosely encircling him.
Instead of scooping him up sideways, Xie Jinghui let him sit in the crook of his arm, allowing Shen Shuangjian's upper body to rest against his shoulder and neck for a little more security.
Their sudden movements inevitably drew everyone out of the merriment, their gazes turning toward Xie Jinghui as he picked up both their phones with one hand.
"Shuangjian's a little drunk. I'll take him upstairs first. Carry on." Xie Jinghui gave a slight nod, then turned and headed upstairs without hesitation.
Shen Shuangjian really did seem drunk. When Xie Jinghui carried him, he offered no resistance at all, merely lowering his head against his shoulder.
He had even forgotten to wrap his arms around Xie Jinghui. A length of slender, pale forearm lay exposed, his swaying long hair tangling loosely around it.
Their retreating figures soon disappeared around the bend in the stairs, leaving only everyone's following gazes and the livestream audience, who had watched it all through the camera.
[He just carried my wife away like that, easy as you please?]
[Where's the cameraman? Follow them! What's most likely to happen after drinking? Tell me, loud and clear!]
[Can your show cause an absolutely colossal scandal? Follow them and secretly film, then have Xie Jinghui pretend not to know. When those two do it, pretend you can't shut off the livestream.]
[How can anyone cause a scandal that huge...]
[So does anyone still remember Xie Qingchi, banished from the palace for the second time...]
[Nobody cares.]
[When Xie Qingchi gets back from digging coal in Africa, he'll find his world has collapsed. His own wife got taken by the outside help he invited himself.]
[And that person is his own youngest uncle, too.]
[Does anyone get this carrying position? It feels more secure than a princess carry, but also has this indescribable sense of equality that a princess carry doesn't?]
[I know what you mean. A princess carry can easily make the other person feel insecure. This position puts Shen Shuangjian a head above Xie Jinghui, so it doesn't feel oppressive.]
[Xie Jinghui's forearm, holy shit. Those faintly raised veins. The sexual tension is off the charts...]
[Does anyone get Xie Jinghui? He looks so refined and treats his wife so gently, but he's actually 190 centimeters tall with broad shoulders and a narrow waist. He could fuck ten wives to tears in one night.]
[But I think if Xie Jinghui wants to be with our wife, he'll have to bottom for love. Our wife looks so ascetic, so cool and proper. Probably hard to win over.]
[You don't get it. Someone with our wife's personality really can be won over through relentless persistence. Same in bed. Keep at it relentlessly and you'll have him wrapped around your finger.]
[Relentless persistence... are you talking about Yu Sheng?]
[Relentless. Persistent. Little minx. Yu Sheng.]
[If I met our wife in real life, I'd force myself on him, then make him take responsibility for me the next morning. He'd be absolutely dumbfounded.]
[With Shen Shuangjian's personality, he really would take responsibility. And I feel like he'd very responsibly spend the rest of his life with you.]
[He seems like the type who wouldn't divorce you no matter how far you went.]
[Force yourself on him, make him take responsibility, get your marriage license at lightning speed and take up the post, then our wife will miserably resign himself to eating and sleeping with you.]
[Mental as gold, perverted as ever.]
[What is wrong with you people? Shen Sixian is angry, not dead.]
[Shen Shuangjian might be easy to bully, but Shen Sixian isn't.]
[One second you force yourself on him, the next that little-brother-obsessed maniac appears. He won't give you a chance to make our wife Shuangjian take responsibility.]
[...]
[I'm done living, okay.]
When Xie Jinghui gently laid Shen Shuangjian on the bed, the bedroom lights were off. In the faint moonlight, the flushed side of Shen Shuangjian's neck lay completely exposed to his gaze.
Shen Shuangjian was so drunk that his limbs were weak, but he still behaved without making a fuss. Xie Jinghui spent half an hour beside the bed helping him rinse his mouth and wiping his face.
Shen Shuangjian did not resist at all, simply letting Xie Jinghui do as he pleased. Yet when Xie Jinghui tried to change his clothes for him, Shen Shuangjian instinctively clutched the front of his shirt.
"If you don't change, you'll dislike the smell of alcohol on them when you wake up tomorrow."
Xie Jinghui's voice was low and gentle as he leaned beside Shen Shuangjian's ear, trying to reason with someone whose mind was muddled with drink.
Perhaps his words had gotten through. Shen Shuangjian loosened his grip and pushed himself up, leaning against Xie Jinghui. As his soft cotton shirt was slowly lifted, exposing a stretch of slender, snow-white waist, the phone by the bed suddenly chimed twice.
Shen Shuangjian's attention was drawn to it. He was not so drunk that he had lost his ability to understand things. He knew someone had sent him a message.
Leaning against Xie Jinghui's shoulder, Shen Shuangjian curled his fingers, signaling for Xie Jinghui to give him his phone.
Xie Jinghui could only comply. Once Shen Shuangjian had the phone, he studied it several times before he could make out who had messaged him.
It was Shen Sixian, asking him: Why were you drinking?
Shen Shuangjian tapped at his phone, only to discover that typing was unusually difficult. Just then, before Shen Shuangjian could reply, Shen Sixian sent another message.
Elder brother: What are you doing? I have something to tell you.
Another two minutes passed very slowly. Shen Sixian tapped lightly on the desk. Beside his hand was the WeChat conversation where his messages had gone unanswered.
His brows furrowed slightly. Before he could begin to ponder it, the WeChat account with a little frost flower for a nickname finally sent a few utterly jumbled characters.
[At uncle.]
Uncle? What uncle?
Shen Sixian could not quite make sense of it. Before he could ask further, a voice message a few seconds long popped up.
He tapped it open with a fingertip. The voice was so faint that even on speakerphone, he had to bring it to his ear to hear clearly.
Shen Sixian could only pick up the phone and hold it to his ear in resignation, listening carefully.
Shen Shuangjian's voice was audibly drunk. Soft traces of the Wu dialect from where he had grown up stripped away his usual distance and coolness, leaving only a faint, halting voice.
"Elder brother, Xie Jinghui... is taking off clothes."
Even the last word was half swallowed by the unclear voice recording. Yet despite that, Shen Sixian still lost his grip on his phone, and it fell heavily onto the desk.
It was as though lightning had struck his mind. Another voice message popped up, and before Shen Sixian tapped it, it began playing automatically.
It was an addition from Shen Shuangjian, with a slight upward lilt at the end.
"...My clothes."