Axuan,
Humor me, please.
Lu Fengxuan's mind echoed with that sentence, her eyes blinked, seven parts puzzled and three parts innocent: how was she to humor someone?
She racked her brains, and as her body sensed the crisis abating, the tension in her nerves slackened, allowing the alcohol she had consumed earlier to hit her all at once.
Dizzy and disoriented, she foolishly shook her head vigorously, only to feel even more dizzy as a result.
With her little hands grasping the clothes of the person before her, Lu Fengxuan lifted her head, mustering the strength to see his face clearly.
Those eyes, that nose, those lips—she recognized them; it was her Brother Ayin.
Recognizing him, Lu Fengxuan's expression grew even more woebegone, "Brother Ayin, my head is so dizzy…"
Yu Chiyin paused, putting aside the interrupted topic, and his narrow eyes swept across the empty bottles on the table, his voice icy,
"Who told you to drink so much? If you aren't dizzy, then who would be?"
