The night wind tangled An Yan's long hair, with several strands sticking to her tear-stained cheeks.
She wiped her tears, sniffed, and guzzled beer from the can she held.
Su Yue walked into An Yan's villa in the eastern suburbs and witnessed this scene.
She hurried over and crouched in front of her, "Stop drinking, look what you've done to yourself."
While speaking, she pulled on An Yan's arm to get her up, "Don't sit on the steps, it's too cold."
An Yan's body felt a bit weak as she stood and glanced at the empty cans by her feet, "One, two, three, let me see, seems like seven."
Su Yue was angry, "What seven, eight! It's eight! An Yan, what's really wrong with you?"
An Yan hugged Su Yue, her voice acidic, "Yueyue, I've never felt so awful. Really, even when Fu Shiyan took a bullet for me two years ago, I wasn't this upset."
