Chapter 62

Leng Xiang’s birthday doubled as the crew’s first group meal of the year, so everyone let loose more than usual.

They had a bad habit during gatherings: heavy drinking. The entire crew loved to drink, and they wouldn’t stop until everyone was flat out.

As Leng Xiang walked into the restaurant’s private room, she had a vague sense of foreboding.

She suddenly wanted to turn and leave, but the fruit cake on the table was too tempting a sight. It had been eight hundred years since she’d celebrated a birthday, and she found herself rooted to the spot, following the crowd inside.

The crew was in high spirits, and without Jiang Sisi there to stir trouble or hold them back, they drank with abandon, flushed and exuberant.

The deputy director stood on a chair, raising his glass. “I’m feeling great today—this one’s on me! With Skinflint Jiang gone, let’s go wild. No one goes home sober!”

“Deputy Director is wise! Deputy Director is mighty!”

“No one goes home sober!!”

…

It was past eight in the evening when Jiang Sisi finally finished handling the press conference and arrived late. The entire crew was already passed out.

Beside them sat the massive cake, half-eaten, its fruit toppings emitting an alluring creamy fragrance.

Empty bottles rolled across the floor, from one end of the room to the other.

This was the hotel’s largest private dining room, formed by knocking through three connected spaces, with thick, soft carpeting underfoot.

Jiang Sisi nearly tripped over someone sprawled on the ground as she entered.

Tan Ya followed behind her and quickly spotted Wang Linlin, unconscious on the sofa. With Jiang Sisi’s nod, she took her away first.

The deputy director lay in a corner, rubbing his belly and mumbling, “Baby, Daddy’s here. Daddy won’t abandon you. Daddy loves you…”

Jiang Sisi: “…”

The dead fatty’s drunk ravings had blurred his gender awareness.

The makeup artist and the scriptwriter girl were both collapsed on the carpet, limbs entangled in a bizarre figure-eight.

The lighting and props crew dangled off chairs, their upper bodies having slid under the table, clutching table legs and muttering nonsense.

The scene was utterly deplorable, a sight too pathetic to behold.

Jiang Sisi: “…”

If left unsupervised, this bunch could drink themselves into this state. Incredible.

Jiang Sisi called security to haul them back to their rooms one by one. After rummaging through the pile of bodies, she finally found Leng Xiang tucked away on the side of the sofa near the window.

The room featured a huge floor-to-ceiling window beside the sofa, offering a view of the nightscape when seated.

For some reason, Leng Xiang had wedged herself into the narrow gap between the sofa and the window, hugging her knees on the carpet. Her face was buried in her thighs, body curled into a tight ball, only her eyes peeking out as she stared silently at the view outside.

The restaurant was on the second floor, so there wasn’t much to see—just the garden below at best.

Though Leng Xiang hadn’t appeared at the press conference, she was the undisputed star of the day, especially since it was her birthday. Everyone had hounded her to drink with them.

With Jiang Sisi absent and Wang Linlin already down for the count, no one was there to shield her.

She’d been deeply touched that day and hadn’t refused much. One or two glasses went down easy, then three or four, until she’d knocked back around ten.

She had a poor tolerance for alcohol but excellent behavior when drunk—no crying, no fussing, no drama. She just went still, completely motionless.

Jiang Sisi looked at her and chuckled helplessly. “How’d you let yourself get this drunk?”

Leng Xiang seemed startled by her voice. She lifted her eyes to look at Jiang Sisi, then dropped her gaze again, ignoring her.

“Did they force drinks on you?” Jiang Sisi asked again.

Leng Xiang raised her head once more. Her dark eyes were full of bewilderment, but she seemed to understand. After a long hesitation, she nodded faintly.

Jiang Sisi had seen her drunk before and sighed inwardly each time.

The last time was at the production kickoff banquet, where she’d gotten half-sloshed. The time before, she’d gone to a bar to drown her sorrows and passed out at the counter; Jiang Sisi had carried her upstairs to sleep it off. The time before that… was the night she’d been drugged.

It seemed every time Leng Xiang got drunk, Jiang Sisi ended up cleaning up the mess.

But…

She looks so obedient like this.

How is she so obedient when drunk?

Curled into a tiny ball, Leng Xiang was tall but small-framed. Hugging her knees, she seemed so petite—like she could be scooped up in one arm, kneaded into a little ball, and tucked into a pocket. Her fragility tugged at the heart.

Did she get this obedient and vulnerable around anyone when drunk?

Jiang Sisi felt an itch in her chest, like a feather tickling her heart.

The light fell on Leng Xiang’s face. With her eyes downcast, her lashes draped like a delicate fan.

Even when she tried to restrain herself, she always seemed aloof, keeping the world at arm’s length.

She was like that pretty, top-scoring girl in class who kept to herself—walking on the outskirts of the crowd with a book in her arms, drawing secret glances from others.

Everyone liked her, wanted to get close, but didn’t quite know how.

That didn’t stop anyone from appreciating how wonderful she was.

Her obedient, downcast gaze softened her usual aloofness, making her seem gentle and fragile, stirring pity.

“So dizzy…”

Her voice was so soft that Jiang Sisi barely caught it. She bent down to listen.

Leng Xiang lifted her eyes and saw Jiang Sisi’s face drawing nearer. She stared unblinking.

Those eyes were half-dazed, half-clear, fixed on Jiang Sisi.

No one could tell how drunk she really was.

Jiang Sisi instinctively wanted to pull back. God knows what might happen next.

Deep down, she resisted going further.

Leng Xiang noticed her flinch and frowned in dissatisfaction. She reached up and hooked her arm around Jiang Sisi’s neck.

A thought flashed through Jiang Sisi’s mind.

She’s definitely drunk.

Jiang Sisi was half-bent in a pose that tested her flexibility, frozen in place.

Leng Xiang knelt on the ground, leaning forward, arms around her neck. She said nothing, just stared intently.

They held like that for a moment, and Jiang Sisi felt her back about to give out.

Suddenly, Leng Xiang tugged harder, pulling Jiang Sisi down.

Caught off guard, Jiang Sisi lost her balance and nearly toppled onto her.

A warm, soft, moist sensation appeared on her chin.

Jiang Sisi blinked. All she could see was Leng Xiang’s hair—soft and fine, brushing her nose with the scent of shampoo, all sweet feminine fragrance.

Leng Xiang’s lips had bumped her chin, and she seemed as surprised as Jiang Sisi.

Then Leng Xiang smiled, her lips curving in a sweet arc.

“So soft…”

Jiang Sisi swore inwardly.

Oh God.

Who could resist this? Isn’t this tempting her to repeat past mistakes?

But Leng Xiang was drunk.

Even if she wasn’t…

If she weren’t drunk, Leng Xiang would never act coquettish or hook her neck, so that wasn’t even a possibility.

Jiang Sisi shut down the thought.

She recited a mental cleansing mantra a few times, then wrapped one arm around Leng Xiang’s waist and the other under her knees, lifting her effortlessly.

She was light—lighter than the last time Jiang Sisi had carried her upstairs to sleep.

Leng Xiang’s arms still dangled around her neck, her body suspended in midair. She widened her eyes in fright and struggled fiercely, nearly tumbling out.

Several security guards entered to help move people and were startled to see Jiang Sisi holding Leng Xiang—no one had noticed them in that crevice.

“Director Jiang, you’re still here?”

One guard spotted the person in her arms. “Need help?”

Jiang Sisi shook her head. “No, I’ll take her back. Thanks for handling the rest.”

Leng Xiang nestled quietly in her arms now, as if asleep.

Jiang Sisi carried her past the crew’s sprawled bodies and headed straight for the elevator.

The second-floor restaurant elevator went directly to the upper levels. Two girls inside made room as Jiang Sisi entered carrying someone.

Jiang Sisi nodded to them and stood at the back.

The girls recognized her and gaped in disbelief.

They squealed silently.

Jiang Sisi’s head throbbed.

The press conference had stayed within “crew defends Leng Xiang against online backlash.” Most of it praised her acting. Even Jiang Sisi’s ambiguous remarks could be brushed off as jokes to help her out.

Girlfriends hugged and kissed all the time; a director joking while defending her favorite actress? No big deal.

In the public’s eyes, Jiang Sisi was the host who spouted nonsense—half-truths at best. Believe only fifty percent; the rest was fabrication.

Without photos, vague words proved nothing. Netizens were forgetful; in a month’s news cycle, it’d be forgotten.

But now someone had seen her carrying Leng Xiang upstairs. How to explain?

Collegial concern? There were security guards—and female ones—for propriety’s sake.

Did she have to carry her herself?

This was getting too ambiguous.

Jiang Sisi smiled at the girls. “No photos, okay?”

They snapped out of it and nodded frantically.

The elevator reached the seventeenth floor. Jiang Sisi murmured “excuse me,” carried Leng Xiang out, and headed to her room.

Using the spare keycard, she opened the door, carried Leng Xiang inside, removed her shoes and jacket, and tucked her gently into bed under the covers.

Leng Xiang rolled into the soft bed and blankets, burrowing deeper.

She was truly drunk—even dozing on the way. The jostle of being placed on the bed roused her slightly.

Eight parts drunk, two parts sober, she huddled under the covers, eyes cracking open to peer hazily at Jiang Sisi.

Jiang Sisi tucked her in, checked her forehead for fever, then stood to leave.

She’d barely taken two steps when her sleeve was tugged.

Leng Xiang’s hand emerged from the covers, grabbing it.

Her grip was weak, almost limp—Jiang Sisi could shake it off easily.

But she didn’t move.

Leng Xiang let go and shrank back into the blankets.

Jiang Sisi turned. “What is it?”

Leng Xiang knew she was drunk, yet felt strangely sober.

Her body screamed for sleep, but a faint obsession kept her mind afloat.

Stubbornly refusing to pass out, in her haze, she sensed Jiang Sisi leaving and grabbed without thinking.

She wanted an answer.

Her heart clung stubbornly to that need for an answer.

But she was too drunk to know what to ask.

Leng Xiang opened her mouth but said nothing.

Jiang Sisi waited, but no words came. Seeing Leng Xiang had fallen deeply asleep, she left quietly.