"What's going on? Had too much to drink?" Gu Xingchen quickly turned back to help support him.
The heavy weight pressing down on Sang Ning's shoulders was finally lifted, allowing her to catch her breath.
The group, who had already gone downstairs, returned upon hearing the commotion. "What happened to He Siyu?"
Gu Xingchen steadied him. "Probably drank too much—can barely walk straight."
Meng Lai teased, "What's up with He Siyu? His alcohol tolerance is getting worse."
"Can you still walk?" Gu Xingchen asked.
He Siyu kept his eyes closed, replying softly, "Yeah."
"Let's go, let's get him to the car first."
Gu Xingchen then helped him downstairs, with the rest of the group following.
A trivial incident, brushed off lightly, with no one bothering to dig deeper.
Pei Songhan, who had been standing silently at the back, let his gaze drift past the noisy crowd. Even in the dim bar lighting, he could easily track her movements.
He watched as she clumsily caught He Siyu, saw the faint crease of worry between her brows, noticed how her eyes never left him amid the crowd.
His lips pressed into a thin line as he averted his gaze, fingers tightening slightly at his sides.
"Songhan, why aren’t you leaving yet?"
Everyone had already gone downstairs. Meng Lai, noticing Pei Songhan still standing there, patted his shoulder to hurry him along.
Pei Songhan lowered his eyes. "Yeah, coming."
He followed Meng Lai, the last one to descend.
Outside the bar, luxury cars lined the street. The He family’s driver had already arrived and was waiting.
Gu Xingchen helped He Siyu into the car first, instructing the driver, "Uncle Zheng, he’s drunk. Drive carefully."
"Got it, Young Master Gu. Don’t worry," Uncle Zheng nodded.
With a press of the accelerator, the car drove off.
Meng Lai and the others also bid their farewells. "We’ll head out too."
Gu Xingchen waved. "Take care!"
They all got into their respective cars.
Ji Yan, still buzzing with excitement, hadn’t given a second thought to He Siyu’s drunken episode. She tugged at Sang Ning’s sleeve, chattering away. "I heard their band’s holding a concert soon. We should go together!"
Sang Ning nodded. "Sure."
"Haven’t you talked enough for one night? Still going at it out here?" Gu Xingchen quipped.
Ji Yan rolled her eyes. "None of your business. Why do you always have to meddle?"
Afraid they’d start bickering again, Sang Ning quickly pulled Ji Yan aside. "You should head home first."
"Hey, has your driver arrived yet?"
"He’s on the way. Should be here soon. You go ahead."
Ji Yan frowned. "What’s up with your driver? Making you wait like this."
Sang Ning smiled. "It’s no big deal."
"You’re too nice. You should’ve replaced that driver your grandfather assigned you ages ago!"
"I know, I know. Just go ahead. I’ll wait here for a bit."
As she turned, her eyes accidentally met Pei Songhan’s.
Pei Songhan pursed his lips. "Be careful on your way back."
Sang Ning gave a slight nod. "Thank you, Young Master Pei. Take care."
He opened his mouth as if to say more but was abruptly pulled away by Gu Xingchen slinging an arm around his neck. "Let’s go, let’s go. My driver’s not here yet. Drop me off on your way."
Ji Yan’s car was brought around too.
"I’ll get going then. See you next time," Ji Yan waved.
Sang Ning nodded, standing by the roadside. "Yeah, next time."
The noisy crowd finally dispersed, the cars driving off one after another, leaving silence in their wake.
Soon after, a black Bentley pulled up in front of Sang Ning.
She opened the door and got in. He Siyu was slumped in the backseat, eyes still closed.
"He Siyu," she called softly.
No response.
Her brows furrowed as she reached out to touch his forehead, then withdrew her hand. Turning to the driver, she said, "Uncle Zheng, could you stop by a pharmacy? I need to get some hangover medicine."
Uncle Zheng agreed. "Of course."
He Siyu suddenly shifted, his head sliding from the seatback onto her shoulder.
"Yangyang," he murmured into the crook of her neck.
The warmth of his breath against her skin sent a tingling sensation down her spine. She shivered slightly and looked down at him. "You can’t hold your liquor, yet you drink so much."
"Mhm," he hummed in acknowledgment.
Studying his lowered lashes, Sang Ning realized for the first time how long they were. With his eyes closed, the sharpness of his gaze hidden, he looked almost docile—like a big, well-behaved dog resting against her.
Unable to resist, she reached up and gently ruffled his hair.
He stiffened for a moment before tightening his arm around her waist.
The car stopped. Uncle Zheng stepped out. "I’ll get the medicine."
After returning with the hangover pills, Uncle Zheng drove straight to Xizi Bay.
At the entrance, Sang Ning helped He Siyu out of the car. "Can you walk?"
"Yeah."
He draped an arm over her shoulders, letting her stagger under his weight as they entered the elevator.
Glancing down, he noticed her porcelain face flushed with exertion, whether from the alcohol or the strain of supporting him.
She looked like a little hamster struggling to haul its precious stash.
The corner of his lips twitched upward as he subtly lightened his weight to ease her burden.
The elevator numbers climbed steadily until, with a soft ding, the doors slid open.
She guided him out and toward his apartment.
Taking his hand, she pressed his finger against the biometric lock, then pushed the door open and flipped on the lights.
With one final effort, she half-dragged him into the master bedroom and deposited him onto the bed.
Gasping for breath, she wiped her brow, thoroughly exhausted.
The man on the bed remained in his pristine suit, eyes shut, his handsome face betraying no signs of intoxication.
Sang Ning didn’t question it—not everyone turned red after drinking like she did.
Still, she couldn’t just leave him like this. She wet a towel with warm water in the bathroom, wrung it out, and gently wiped his face.
Then she fetched a glass of water and the hangover pills, determined to make sure he took them.
Otherwise, he’d have a terrible headache tomorrow.
The moment she left the room, He Siyu’s eyes fluttered open, tracking her hurried movements with undisguised satisfaction.
When Sang Ning returned with the medicine and water, she froze.
He Siyu was sitting upright on the edge of the bed, watching her with an inscrutable gaze.
"You’re awake?" she asked, startled.
He didn’t answer.
She approached. "Here, take the medicine first."
Instead of reaching for it, he kept his dark eyes fixed on her. Then, slowly, he lifted a hand and loosened his tie.
Sang Ning hesitated, her attention involuntarily drawn to his slender fingers as they tugged at the fabric.
Dressed in a white shirt and black tie—standard business attire—yet there was something undeniably alluring about the way he moved.
The first tug only loosened the knot slightly. The second freed it entirely.
This time, instead of discarding it, he let the tie dangle from his fingertips.
Sang Ning stood rooted in place, the glass of water and pills forgotten in her hands.
His dark eyes remained fixed on her, his left hand holding a tie, casually winding it around his right hand. That slender hand, bound by the black silk, was impossible to look away from.
He stood up, his tall frame casting a shadow over her. Taking the cup from her hand with his left, he leaned in slightly, his voice low and husky: "Yangyang, I don’t want to take the medicine."
