Too much had happened that night. Overwhelmed, Shi Yu couldn't make sense of any of it, so she simply drank, one heavy, silent sip after another. Li Yao moved to join her, but Shi Yu held up a hand. “Don’t you dare,” she said, her words already slurring. “If your heart condition flares up, I won’t be able to save you like this.” Li Yao just grinned. “With my own personal doctor right here? What have I got to worry about? It’s not going to act up that easily. And considering you went into cardiac surgery just for me, I absolutely have to drink with you.” It was true. The sole reason Shi Yu had gone to medical school and specialized in cardiac surgery was for Li Yao and her congenital heart condition. Li Yao was her only friend. Having tasted loss before, she was terrified of that profound loneliness returning. By the early hours of the morning, Shi Yu was lost in a drunken haze. For someone who rarely drank, the night had been an act of reckless abandon. Li Yao, clinging to her last sliver of sobriety, mumbled with a thick tongue, “I’ll… I’ll get you home…” Shi Yu fumbled for her phone in a daze. “Don’t want you to… I’m gonna call Jiang Yichen…” Li Yao let out a laugh that was more frustration than humor. “God, some things never change, do they? Pathetic. Wasted like this and you’re still crawling back to him. Fine. Call him. See if he comes to get you.” The words on the screen were a blur to Shi Yu. After fumbling with it for what felt like an eternity, the call finally went through. The moment it connected, she mumbled into the receiver, “Jiang Yichen, where are you? Come get me… I’m at… at Lingdu Bar. I can’t get home…” On the other end of the line, Qin Feng’s brow furrowed. He swung his legs out of bed and started pulling on his clothes. “Stay put,” he said. “I’m on my way.” It was so obviously a misdial, but Qin Feng couldn’t bring himself to leave her stranded. His confession to her back in college had been no joke. When he reached the bar, he scanned the room and found them in a corner booth—two women slumped against each other, completely wasted. He approached their table and spoke softly. “Shi Yu. I’m here. Come on, let’s get you home.” Li Yao looked up, squinting. “Qin Feng? What are you doing here? I thought she called Jiang Yichen.” Qin Feng paused. “She misdialed.” Li Yao was in no state to look after herself, let alone Shi Yu. She’d heard Shi Yu talk about Qin Feng before—a good guy, top of his class. She felt she could trust him. “You take her home, then. I’ll be fine. I can get back on my own.” Then, as a token warning, she added, “And don’t try anything.” Seeing that Li Yao was lucid enough, Qin Feng nodded. “Be careful on your way, then. Text Shi Yu’s phone when you’re home safe. I’ll look for it.” After helping both women outside, Qin Feng saw Li Yao into a cab, gave the driver a few brief instructions, and only then did he feel at ease. Shi Yu was a dead weight against him. He never would have imagined that after all these years, this—her leaning on him, utterly dependent—would be their most intimate moment. He was a gentleman; he wouldn’t take advantage of the situation. “Shi Yu,” he said, his voice steady. “I’m taking you back to the Jiang Residence.” Shi Yu heard his words but didn’t seem to recognize his voice, mumbling incoherently, “I’m not going back… Don’t take me back there. He doesn’t like seeing me… He’ll get angry…” She was so drunk she’d forgotten that Jiang Yichen wasn’t even home. The words were a subconscious reflex, born from a fear that was bone-deep. A deep frown creased Qin Feng’s forehead. The girl he had yearned for, the one he could never have, had been reduced to this—a timid, fearful wreck in Jiang Yichen’s hands. Whether it was out of selfishness or something else, he made a decision. He was taking Shi Yu back to his place.