Chapter 22: "Drunk, Yet Still Able to Avoid Me."
After dealing with the woman, Shen Que hurried to the restroom entrance, glanced at the time, and thought about messaging Yun Cai to have her come up and check on Luo Xing inside. Suddenly, a chat box, previously buried far down his phone, jumped to the top.
Gu Shiyan: [Luo Xing is with me.]
A simple sentence, devoid of inquiry or reassurance, as if a kidnapper were sending a ransom demand.
[What are you doing? Where are you?] Shen Que sent his message, looking toward the stairwell beside the restroom.
Earlier, in the corridor, he’d sensed someone approach, but not pass by. With this in mind, Shen Que rushed down the stairs.
A new message appeared on his screen.
Gu Shiyan: [Nothing, just asking something. I’ll return her before ten.]
Shen Que’s gaze fixed on the “before ten,” and his step slackened, nearly slipping. He grabbed the banister, taking four steps at a time to rush down to the first floor.
The bar was twice as crowded as when they’d arrived; Shen Que couldn’t spot any sign of Luo Xing.
Meanwhile, at the bar’s parking area—
Uncle Li got out to open the back door for Gu Shiyan. He caught sight of the person in Gu Shiyan’s arms.
Her hair, slightly curled, spilled like seaweed. Gu Shiyan held her by the waist with one hand, the other looped around her neck, his distinct knuckles pressing gently at the back of her head.
Her small face was buried against his chest, her features hidden.
Uncle Li noticed that the black suit draped over the girl belonged to Gu Shiyan; beneath it, a hint of lace from her dress peeked out. Her legs, pale as jade, swung in the air, the pristine white shoes occasionally brushing against Gu Shiyan’s trouser legs.
Gu Shiyan was known for his obsession with cleanliness. Uncle Li had watched him grow up, and this was the first time he’d seen him lend his clothes to someone, personally carry them to the car. Those white shoes, rubbing against his pants—if it were anyone else, Gu Shiyan would have tossed them to the ground, or even further.
As Gu Shiyan prepared to place Luo Xing in the car, the girl who had just been sleeping began to swing her legs, murmuring, “I’m so hungry...”
Gu Shiyan paused, and then heard her mutter, “I’m hungry...Shen Que, I’m hungry, Shen Que, Shen Que, Shen Que...”
Gu Shiyan let his tongue glide over his sharp teeth, a faint voice slipping through his lips, “Then stay hungry.”
He settled her in the car and got in himself.
Uncle Li closed the door and moved to the driver’s seat.
“How can you let me starve...” Luo Xing lay across Gu Shiyan’s lap, eyes closed and muddled, “Hungry...”
One hand pillowed under her head, the other restlessly patting Gu Shiyan’s head.
Gu Shiyan’s head tilted aside from her tapping, his expression helpless. “What do you want to eat?”
“Mango...a million layers...”
Gu Shiyan was silent for a moment, recalling the last time he’d ordered her a mango mille crepe.
The girl’s sticky, muddled voice kept burrowing into his ears.
“Shen Que, Shen Que, Shen Que...”
Gu Shiyan covered her mouth with his palm, muffling her words, “Go to Star Point Dessert on Wanghua Street.”
The hand that had been patting Gu Shiyan’s ear suddenly pinched his earlobe; Luo Xing frowned with her eyes closed. “We can’t go to Star Point...you want to kill me.”
Gu Shiyan scoffed lightly, “Wasn’t it you who wanted to eat?”
Luo Xing pouted, “I’m drunk...can’t go.”
With that, she tugged Gu Shiyan’s cool earlobe back and forth, “Can’t, can’t.”
His head swayed with her tugging; he grabbed her hand to free his ear, “Fine, we won’t go.”
Not going to the dessert shop because she was drunk—that was the logic of a drunkard.
Gu Shiyan didn’t take her words to heart. He pinched the flesh of her cheek, retaliating slightly, “You’re ruthless.”
His deep voice carried a hint of grievance.
Seeing that Gu Shiyan had no other instructions, Uncle Li drove on toward Wanghua Street.
Luo Xing soon began clamoring for water.
Lying down made it difficult to feed her; Gu Shiyan first pushed her legs down, gripped her hand, and lifted her upright so she could sit properly.
Luo Xing’s back wouldn’t stay straight, and without support, she would have toppled forward.
Gu Shiyan had to wrap an arm around her, unscrewing a bottle of mineral water.
He brought the water to her lips.
Luo Xing pushed at it, spilling some of the full bottle.
Gu Shiyan felt a sudden chill in his lap, glanced down—
Then looked up at Luo Xing, his gaze darkening, “Was that on purpose?”
Luo Xing lowered her head, eyes half-closed, lips murmuring, “I’m thirsty.”
Were it not for her cheeks being flushed as bright as a monkey’s bottom, Gu Shiyan might have suspected deliberate revenge.
He wiped with a tissue, but the black fabric of his trousers now bore a conspicuous wet patch.
The culprit clung to his hand, mouth opening to bite at the bottle’s neck, “Water...”
Gu Shiyan dropped the tissue, cupped Luo Xing’s jaw, and slowly tilted the bottle.
Clear water trickled gently into her mouth.
Gu Shiyan had never served anyone like this in his life.
Even the water had to be fed to her lips.
After a while, Luo Xing drank most of it.
Eventually she stopped, a trickle of water dribbling from the corner of her mouth.
Gu Shiyan quickly pulled the bottle away, still steadying her chin, “You stop drinking and don’t say a word.”
He was a bit flustered, switching the hand holding her chin to reach around her neck for the bottle cap.
Just as he aligned the cap, he felt sticky water run down his forearm.
He glanced over—Luo Xing’s chin rested on his arm, saliva now dripping onto his hand.
Suppressing the itch crawling over his skin, he quickly tightened the cap and tossed the bottle aside.
He grabbed several tissues to block Luo Xing’s mouth.
Her head, previously bowed, was now tipped back, granting Gu Shiyan a clearer view of her makeup today.
Though he knew little of cosmetics, even Gu Shiyan could tell Luo Xing had taken her time with this look—the eyeliner especially pronounced.
He stared at her face; the tissue lifted from her lips, revealing a smear of red lipstick. He paid it no mind, using it to wipe the moisture on his own hand.
He wiped from forearm to fingertips, eyes landing on Luo Xing’s exposed, cool white skin.
Somehow, water had gotten there too.
Her off-shoulder dress offered little support; after her restless movements, the lace slipped lower.
Her rounded contours became visible, damp skin glowing temptingly under the warm yellow light of the car.
A soft, hoarse voice sounded, “Gu...Gu...Gu Shiyan?”
Gu Shiyan’s lashes trembled, lifting to reveal fine folds. His long lashes cast shadows beneath his eyes, which shone as he looked at Luo Xing.
His brow was sharp, and his raised gaze was so deep it seemed capable of drawing someone in.
Luo Xing shrank back.
Gu Shiyan caught her subtle retreat, a quiet chuckle escaping his throat, stirring the tranquil air in the car, brushing across Luo Xing’s face.
“Hiding from me?”
He made no move to touch her, leaning back, his dark eyes flicking aside, “Drunk, yet still knows to dodge me.”
He laughed again, low and self-mocking.