Su Fang Yu raised his wine glass gracefully. “Thank you all for coming. It’s my honor to have invited everyone to this gathering. Tonight, there are no rules or restrictions—just a casual get-together among friends. I hope everyone relaxes and enjoys themselves.”
His voice was gentle yet steady, carrying the poise of someone accustomed to authority without ostentation. He wore a dark gray suit with his tie slightly loosened, and the contours of his face bore a subtle resemblance to Wen Wan Ning.
Shen Jia Yan suddenly felt a weight lift from her chest.
She admitted that she had cared deeply about the relationship between Han Yuchu and Wen Wan Ning.
Those moments of them standing side by side, those familiar and natural conversations—they had been like tiny thorns piercing the wounds she was trying to heal.
She had replayed those scenes countless times in the dead of night, wondering if there was some bond between them that she didn’t know about, if Wen Wan Ning had already given that tenderness to someone else.
But now, learning that he was her cousin’s boyfriend, that thorn was finally gently pulled out, along with the long-accumulated sourness and unease, receding like the tide.
The air seemed to lighten, and even the sea breeze brushing her cheeks carried a hint of sweetness.
After the greetings, Su Fang Yu first took Han Yuchu and Wen Wan Ning aside for a moment.
Before leaving, Wen Wan Ning nodded at Shen Jia Yan with a smile.
Lin Che noticed the shift in Shen Jia Yan’s mood and saw the slight upward curve of her lips. He teased, “He’s introducing his boyfriend, and you look really happy about it?”
Shen Jia Yan took a sip of the wine in front of her and said calmly, “I’m genuinely happy for them.”
“Oh, really?” Lin Che raised his glass meaningfully and took a sip.
The cool liquid slid down his throat.
He frowned and savored it. Something was off—this wine had no flavor. He picked up his glass and examined it closely. It wasn’t his.
Then he picked up Shen Jia Yan’s glass and sniffed it near his nose.
That one was his.
“What are you doing with my glass?” Shen Jia Yan asked him in a low voice.
Lin Che set the glass down. “You drank mine, and I drank your alcohol-free one.”
“No way.” Shen Jia Yan sniffed both glasses back and forth, her brows furrowing tighter. Her fingertips felt slightly warm, and a faint blush crept up her ears. The reaction came too quickly to be from that non-alcoholic drink.
Lin Che saw her cheeks gradually flushing and confirmed that she had drunk his wine.
Shen Jia Yan also confirmed that she had drunk the wrong one.
A subtle dizziness slowly rose from her stomach, like tides washing over the beach—silent but unstoppable.
She grumbled inwardly—what was she going to do? She didn’t want to get drunk here, didn’t want to lose control.
She leaned in close to Lin Che and whispered, her voice so low it carried a hint of barely perceptible panic. “How strong is your drink… it should be okay, right?”
Lin Che sighed, his tone a mix of helplessness and mischief. “Here’s some bad news—it’s pretty strong, especially for you.”
He paused, watching her expression freeze, then finally revealed the truth. “That’s a Long Island Iced Tea—vodka, rum, gin, tequila, four base liquors mixed. I didn’t add much soda water, just to make it stronger. You do the math… drinking that much on an empty stomach…”
Shen Jia Yan’s eyes widened instantly, her fingertips digging sharply into her palm to stay alert with the pain. “Why didn’t you say so earlier!” she hissed through gritted teeth, her voice already softening unconsciously.
“I didn’t know!” Lin Che shrugged. “The lights are so dim. You picked up the glass and drank—I didn’t react in time.”
With what clarity she had left, Shen Jia Yan told him, “Lin Che, get Chu Nian over here. Have her take me back. I’m starting to feel fuzzy. I can’t lose it here.”
Lin Che nodded. “Okay.” He then turned and explained the situation to Yang Han.
Everyone had just arrived, and it wouldn’t be good for all to leave early. Yang Han agreed that Chu Nian could take Shen Jia Yan back first, while she and the other band members stayed.
Shen Jia Yan stood up. As Chu Nian reached to support her, she waved it off. “I can manage for now. Let’s say goodbye to Lawyer Wen and then go.”
“Okay. Jia Yan-jie, tell me anytime if you feel unwell.”
The two approached Wen Wan Ning from behind. Just as Shen Jia Yan was about to call out to her, the seaside suddenly lit up.
Bang!
The first firework exploded in the deep blue night sky, its orange-red and gold-edged glow spilling out like a burning heart. Then the second, the third…
Clusters of cold fireworks rose successively from the edge of the beach—purple, blue, silver—interweaving into a flowing galaxy that lit the entire coastline as bright as day.
The guests on the terrace exclaimed in awe. Some raised their phones to take photos, others embraced and laughed.
The sudden noise jolted Shen Jia Yan slightly sober.
Wen Wan Ning sensed the presence behind her and turned around.
“Jia Yan.”
Her voice was nearly swallowed by the fireworks’ roar, yet it pierced through the clamor like a thin, resilient thread, wrapping gently around the tip of Shen Jia Yan’s heart. She stood amid the interplay of light and shadow, her wine-red long skirt shimmering in the firelight, her hair lightly lifting in the warm breeze, her gaze fixed unwaveringly on that swaying figure.
Shen Jia Yan trembled all over, the alcohol amplifying her senses infinitely.
She heard the fireworks bursting, the distant cheers of the crowd, the rhythm of the waves crashing ashore—but clearest of all was Wen Wan Ning’s soft call.
Before they could continue, music rose amid the fading fireworks.
A beam of soft light slanted up from the beach, cutting through the night like a silver path to the horizon.
The glow moved slowly, finally settling gently at the terrace’s edge, where a pure white grand piano had been set up at some point. Its body gleamed with a pearlescent sheen under the lights, as if risen from the sea in a dream.
It was Su Fang Yu playing the piano, with Han Yuchu standing beside it, watching him with eyes softer than the sharp-edged lawyer he usually was.
Everyone’s attention was drawn there.
The fireworks had faded, the sea breeze whispered, and the terrace fell into an almost sacred silence. The earlier laughter and murmurs vanished, leaving only heartbeats and anticipation vibrating soundlessly in the air.
The final note faded slowly into the night, its afterglow receding like the tide, leaving a tranquil stillness strewn with starlight.
Su Fang Yu stood but did not step back. He took a deep blue velvet box from his suit’s inner pocket and turned toward Han Yuchu, his gaze never wavering.
He approached Han Yuchu and knelt on one knee.
The night breeze tousled a lock of hair on his forehead and quickened Han Yuchu’s heartbeat.
“Han Yuchu,” his voice wasn’t loud, but it reached every ear clearly, carrying the piano’s lingering calm. “You always emphasize the law’s objectivity and fairness, saying we can’t be accepted by it. But I want to tell you: ‘When two people in love are separated by the law, that’s when the law should be changed.'”
He opened the box, revealing a simple platinum ring nestled inside. “Will you cast aside the law with me, ignore the world’s gaze, and love each other onward?”
Han Yuchu’s breath caught, his eyes suddenly heating up.
He slowly crouched down to meet Su Fang Yu’s gaze at eye level.
“Su Fang Yu,” his voice was clear and steady, like a final courtroom statement. “You’re right. When the law can’t accommodate love, it’s not love’s fault—it’s the law’s incompleteness.”
He took the ring and slipped it gently onto his ring finger, the motion resolute yet tender.
“I will. Not to be recognized by the world, but to tell the world: we exist, we love, and we won’t back down.”
The crowd fell silent for a moment, then erupted in applause like a surging tide.
But the Long Island Iced Tea’s aftereffects then crept up her nerves. Shen Jia Yan leaned on Chu Nian’s shoulder, her vision blurring slightly.
That soul-stirring confession felt like a dream—the notes, the sea breeze, the vows… all floating at the boundary of alcohol and reality.
She tried to stand straight but stumbled, steadied firmly by Chu Nian.
“Jia Yan-jie, let me take you back.”
Wen Wan Ning grabbed Shen Jia Yan’s wrist and looked at Chu Nian. “Hello, who are you?”
Chu Nian supported Shen Jia Yan, meeting the gaze of this poised lawyer with sharp eyes. Wen Wan Ning wore a wine-red long skirt, her hair slightly stirring. Though under the lights, she seemed separated by an invisible distance, aloof and unapproachable.
She straightened her posture with effort. “Hello, Lawyer Wen. I’m Jia Yan-jie’s assistant, Chu Nian.”
“Oh, I think I have some impression.” Wen Wan Ning’s gaze shifted from Shen Jia Yan’s flushed cheeks to Chu Nian’s supporting arm, a flicker in her eyes.
“Then, Lawyer Wen,” Chu Nian said respectfully, “I’ll take Jia Yan-jie home first. She’s drunk.”
“Home?” Wen Wan Ning set her wine glass down gently; the soft clink of glass on wood stood out clearly on the now-quieting terrace. She raised her eyes, her gaze calmly settling on Chu Nian’s face. “Do you know her home door’s password?”
Last time Lin Che had said no one knew Shen Jia Yan’s home password—why did she know?
Chu Nian knew about Shen Jia Yan and Wen Wan Ning’s situation and quickly explained, “Yeah, we didn’t know before, but since the last time Jia Yan-jie got too drunk, she gave us the password.”
Wen Wan Ning’s heart skipped a beat at that, her fingers curling slightly, fingertips pressing into her palm to suppress the sudden stab of pain.
Last time.
The last time Shen Jia Yan got drunk, it was she who had taken her back to her own home. Her explanation had been that no one knew her home password, so she brought her back to hers.
So after that time, she had given the password to everyone.
Was it to avoid giving her another “chance to take her home”? To cut off all possibilities of her getting close?
That night’s body heat, that night’s breaths, that murmured “Wan Ning, don’t go…” in her haze—were they just an “accident” in Shen Jia Yan’s eyes that needed to be “prevented”?
Wen Wan Ning’s fingertips grew slightly cold.
She looked at Chu Nian, her voice still calm but laced with a thin layer of ice. “Is that so?”
“Yeah, that…” Chu Nian supported Shen Jia Yan, who was now mostly leaning on her, murmuring something indistinct. As Chu Nian opened her mouth to speak again, Wen Wan Ning stepped forward, one hand steadily supporting Shen Jia Yan’s back, the other deftly taking her from Chu Nian’s arms.
The movements were crisp and decisive, without hesitation.
“I’ll handle it.” Wen Wan Ning’s voice was low and steady. “I’ll go with you to take her home.”
She pulled Shen Jia Yan fully into her side, her arm tightening as if to embed her into her own silhouette.
