"Fu Shenyan," I called out, my gaze sweeping over the empty whiskey bottles littering the table. *How could he drink so much? His stomach must be made of iron.* At the sound of my voice, his long, dark lashes fluttered. His eyes cracked open, just a sliver, and a cold, detached gaze landed on me. I wasn't sure if it was because I had disturbed him, but a chill crept into the quiet atmosphere. The