Du Weizhe's words were clear, yet they still did not elicit Pei Zhiyao's sympathy.
The man's expression remained indifferent throughout.
A pair of pitch-black pupils landed on Wen Mian, both piercing and aloof.
This time, it seemed that Pei Zhiyao didn't plan to help himself.
Fine, drink then!
Wen Mian, not to be outdone, lifted her glass and downed a big bottle.
Two or three more glasses followed, all forced.
By the time Wen Mian finally couldn't drink any more, Du Weizhe next to her was preparing to let her be.
"Alright, I see you've had quite a bit already. Take a rest, then come back and continue drinking after you've recovered," he said.
Wen Mian didn't speak and stumbled out of the private room.
At that moment, Wen Mian felt that everything in front of her was spinning and changing back and forth.
With the world spinning around her, Wen Mian quickly headed to the bathroom, fighting the urge to vomit.
