Chapter 21: Luo Xing Intoxicated, Gu Shiyan Steals Her Away

Liu Huan leaned in even closer, her soft curves deliberately brushing against him. “Feeling down? They say wine can ease sorrow. Let me pour you a drink, brother.” Her voice was sweet and coquettish, yet in Gu Shiyan’s mind, all he could hear was Luo Xing, cheeks flushed, calling out “Shen Que” again and again.

Liu Huan fetched a fresh glass and poured wine for Gu Shiyan, one hand sliding onto his leg, the other raising the glass to his lips as if to feed him. Gu Shiyan snatched the glass from her, tilted his head back, and downed the entire drink in one gulp. His Adam’s apple bobbed with each swallow, the pale skin of his neck catching the soft golden light, shadows of the glass flickering across him.

Watching him, Liu Huan found herself liking this man even more; her heart beat faster, and her smile deepened. She took the empty glass from his hand, leaning her body almost entirely toward him, eyes fixed on his face. “You’re amazing, brother.”

Gu Shiyan’s gaze fell on her white blouse, yet his mind kept replaying what he’d seen outside: Luo Xing clinging to Shen Que’s white shirt, buttons torn off, refusing to let go. She wasn’t a child anymore—did she need to be escorted to the restroom door? Why didn’t she just have Shen Que carry her into the ladies’ room?

Heh.

Liu Huan mistook his look for interest. When he’d walked in earlier, she’d noticed him at once. It wasn’t just the way those around him vied for his attention, only to be met with indifference and not even the shadow of a smile—it was the air of effortless, rakish charm he carried. His eyes, even in a casual glance, seemed deep with feeling, yet he gave nothing away, keeping her guessing, making her want more. The kind that leaves you hungry, knowing you’ll never be truly satisfied.

“I’ve poured your drink, brother. Can’t you at least tell me your name?” Of course, Liu Huan already knew who she was clinging to—the manager had made it clear before sending them in that Gu Shiyan was the most important guest in the room. Judging by everyone’s attitude, she could easily guess the rest. But having him say it himself was a different matter entirely.

Her hand slid along the fabric of his trousers, searching over his thigh until she found something firm in the pocket of his black pants. Pressing her hand atop it, she teased, “What are you hiding, brother?” She wasn’t truly interested in what was in his pocket—just using it as an excuse to get closer.

The man who’d seemed so unmoved before now raised his eyes and looked at her—really looked at her face for the first time since she’d cozied up beside him.

Liu Huan arched a brow. “Brother?” At that, his hand pushed hers away from his pocket. She paused, then burst out laughing. “Is it so important? Now I’m even more curious.”

Gu Shiyan slowly filled a glass, letting the wine spill over the rim without a care. This was expensive wine—thousands a bottle—yet he poured as if it were nothing, not stopping until the last drop fell. He pulled a napkin from the side and wiped the spilled wine from his slender fingers.

Liu Huan reached for his hand. “Let me do that for you, brother.” He tossed the napkin onto the table, leaving her hand grasping at air.

Leaning back, he gestured lazily at the glass on the table. “There’s a man standing outside the ladies’ room. If you can get him to finish this wine...” His indifferent voice trailed off, laced with ambiguous suggestion.

Liu Huan agreed instantly, not even pausing to think. “That’s easy.” She picked up the overfilled glass, wine sloshing out onto the floor and down her slender legs, trickling into her high heels.

She walked out, pausing at the door to glance back at Gu Shiyan. He finally stood, hands in pockets, every movement exuding a careless elegance. The fitted ivory-black suit gave him none of the steady maturity it might have lent another; instead, he wore his nonchalance like a crown.

He hooked his phone with a pale fingertip, his long legs carrying him forward. Liu Huan exited, and at a glance, spotted a boy outside the ladies’ room in a white shirt, still carrying a hint of student innocence. She sized him up, her eyes lighting with fresh interest—so many handsome men tonight.

She tugged at her shirt collar, tousling it, then stumbled towards Shen Que. He stepped back, then retreated another couple of paces into the corridor, clearly uneasy as the tipsy woman advanced. Shen Que suppressed his discomfort and asked, “Can I help you?”

Liu Huan looked up, raising the glass. “Too much to drink, I can’t finish it...” She moved to lean on him. “What should I do, handsome? The boss won’t let me leave unless I drink it all...” Shen Que kept backing away, soon losing sight of the restroom behind him. He pressed his fingers against her shoulder to hold her at bay. “I’m sorry, I—”

Liu Huan clung to his hand. “Can’t you help me, please?” The scent of alcohol on her made Shen Que frown. He refused her without hesitation. “No.”

Still clinging, Liu Huan caught sight of Gu Shiyan, who had been leaning by the private room door, now making his way toward the restroom. She didn’t think much of it, her mind fixed on his earlier promise—if she could get this man to drink, perhaps something might happen with Gu Shiyan after all.

Shen Que, with his back to the corridor, sensed someone passing but was too distracted by Liu Huan’s persistence to look. “Miss, I don’t drink. Please let go. My sister is over there—she’s drunk, and I’m worried she’ll wander off.”

“Is she your real sister or just a close friend? Are you really going to let me drink myself to death here?” Liu Huan dropped her gaze. “My parents divorced and both started new families. It’s just me and an elderly relative at home. Today’s my first day working here part-time, and I haven’t even been paid.” She lifted the glass, now only half full after all the spilling. “I’ve had over a dozen drinks already, I really...” Her voice caught, the end trailing off in a trembling, girlish whimper.

Shen Que took in her appearance—her short skirt soaked in wine, the edges of her heels rubbed raw and purple...

Luo Xing emerged from the restroom, steadying herself against the wall. But before she could get her bearings, someone grabbed her hand and led her toward the nearby stairs.

“I—I want to take the elevator!” She dug in her heels, arching backwards, refusing to move. “I’m not taking the stairs, Shen Que, I won’t—I won’t...”

Gu Shiyan looked at her. Luo Xing had always appeared before him dressed in bright, youthful outfits, brimming with vitality. He’d never seen her in a dress like this—a black lace number, demure yet laced with a hint of seductive charm.

What irritated him most was how often she said Shen Que’s name.

Without a word, he shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it over her shoulders, scooping her up in his arms. The drunken girl, comforted by the familiar scent, quieted down. Gu Shiyan gently pressed her head down, feeling her warm breath against his collarbone and neck.