Chapter 69: A Drinking Showdown**
Wu Yifan sat in Ye Xiwen's living room, staring at a mindless soap opera flickering on the TV. From the kitchen drifted the clatter of pots and pans—a rhythmic *clang, clang* that made his thoughts wander. *This feels like a home*, he mused, a faint smile tugging at his lips. The scent of stir-fried vegetables and simmering broth seeped into the room, warm and inviting. It was a far cry from his usual takeout-and-instant-noodles routine.
He'd never known Ye Xiwen could cook. So far, there'd been no explosions, no crashes—good signs, he supposed. *If a woman's cooking is edible, that's a miracle*, he thought, patting his stomach. *Here's hoping my gut can handle whatever she's whipping up.*
He sighed, half to himself. "Stomach, old friend, let's hope you're ready for a beating tonight."
Just then, a sharp knock echoed through the apartment—three quick, aggressive raps that jolted him from his reverie. He frowned. Ye Xiwen was busy in the kitchen; answering the door fell to him. He dragged himself up, muttering, "Who could this be? It's not like she gets many visitors."
He pulled open the door—and froze.
Standing in the doorway was Fu Junyao, her fists clenched, eyes blazing. Before he could react, she swung a punch straight for his chest.
"Whoa! What the hell?!" Wu Yifan yelped, darting sideways just in time. The fist whooshed past his shoulder, slamming into the doorframe with a thud.
Fu Junyao stared at him, her mouth hanging open, as if she'd seen a ghost. "I-it's you?!"
Wu Yifan gaped back. "Fu Junyao? What are you doing here? Did you hit your head or something?"
Of all people—this "tigress" of a police officer, who'd once threatened to have him arrested for "suspicious behavior" outside Infinity. He'd never expected to see her at Ye Xiwen's place, let alone swinging at him.
Fu Junyao recovered first, her shock melting into a scowl. "What are *you* doing in Xiwen's apartment? Don't tell me… you two—" She trailed off, her eyes narrowing as she scanned the room, searching for evidence of some scandal.
Wu Yifan threw up his hands. "Calm down, Officer Fu. I'm just here for dinner. No need to jump to conclusions. Your imagination's running wilder than a herd of horses."
Fu Junyao didn't look convinced. "Xiwen *never* has men over. Especially not… you." She said the last word like it left a bad taste in her mouth.
From the kitchen, Ye Xiwen called out, "Junyao? Is that you? Come in!"
Fu Junyao marched past Wu Yifan, her shoulders rigid, and stopped short when she heard the kitchen commotion. "Xiwen's… cooking?" She turned to Wu Yifan, disbelief etched on her face. "Did you put a spell on her? There's no way she'd cook for *you* voluntarily."
Wu Yifan threw himself back onto the couch, crossing his legs. "Hey, I'm a catch. Maybe she's finally seen the light." He dodged as Fu Junyao shot him a withering glare.
Ye Xiwen emerged from the kitchen, wiping her hands on an apron, a steaming plate of garlic shrimp in her hands. "Junyao! I'm so glad you dropped by—we were just about to eat. Did you two… get off to a rough start?" She glanced at the doorframe, where a faint dent marked Fu Junyao's punch.
Fu Junyao's cheeks flushed. "He was being a creep. As usual."
"Me? A creep?" Wu Yifan gasped, clutching his chest. "I'm a model citizen! Ask anyone at Infinity—they'll tell you I'm a saint."
Ye Xiwen laughed, setting the shrimp on the dining table. "Junyao, don't mind him. He's just in a mood. Come help me bring out the rest of the food, will you? Wu Yifan, you too!"
Wu Yifan groaned but hauled himself up. As he followed Ye Xiwen into the kitchen, he shot Fu Junyao a playful smirk. "See? Even your friend likes me."
Fu Junyao mouthed a curse at him, but she followed them anyway.
The kitchen was a flurry of activity: a pot of braised pork ribs bubbled on the stove, a bowl of fresh greens sat on the counter, and a rice cooker beeped softly, signaling it was done. Ye Xiwen handed Wu Yifan a stack of bowls, while Fu Junyao grabbed chopsticks and napkins.
"Xiwen, since when do you cook like this?" Fu Junyao asked, eyeing the spread. "Last time I saw you, you burned instant noodles."
Ye Xiwen giggled. "Practice makes perfect. Besides, Wu Yifan here insisted he was 'starving to death'—I couldn't let him keel over on my watch."
Wu Yifan feigned offense. "I wasn't *that* hungry. Just… strategically starving to get a home-cooked meal."
Fu Junyao snorted. "Typical. Using your 'charm' to mooch food."
They carried the dishes to the table, and soon the spread looked impressive: shrimp, ribs, stir-fried bok choy, and a pot of hot and sour soup. Wu Yifan's stomach rumbled loudly, earning a laugh from Ye Xiwen.
"Dig in," she said, sitting down. "No need to wait for me—I just need to grab the drinks."
As she left, Fu Junyao leaned in, her voice low. "Listen, old man. If you so much as look at Xiwen the wrong way, I'll have you cuffed and thrown in a cell before you can blink. Got it?"
Wu Yifan raised his hands in surrender. "Relax, Officer. I'm a gentleman. Besides, she's way out of my league."
Fu Junyao narrowed her eyes, but before she could reply, Ye Xiwen returned with three bottles: a bottle of red wine, a bottle of baijiu (a strong Chinese liquor, roughly 58% alcohol), and a can of soda.
"Junyao, what'll you have?" Ye Xiwen asked.
"Wine," Fu Junyao said, still eyeing Wu Yifan.
Ye Xiwen poured her a glass, then turned to Wu Yifan. "And you?"
He grinned. "Baijiu. Let's make this interesting."
Fu Junyao nearly spit out her wine. "You can't be serious. That stuff's like rocket fuel!"
"Exactly," Wu Yifan said, tapping the bottle. "I like a challenge."
Ye Xiwen hesitated. "Are you sure? It's pretty strong—"
"I'm sure," Wu Yifan said. "C'mon, Officer Fu, you gonna let a 'creep' outdrink you? Or are you too scared?"
Fu Junyao's jaw tightened. She hated backing down, especially to him. "Pour me a glass too."
"Junyao, you don't have to—" Ye Xiwen started.
"I want to," Fu Junyao said, her voice sharp. "Let's see what this 'gentleman' is really made of."
Ye Xiwen sighed but obliged, filling two small cups with the clear, potent liquor. The scent alone made Wu Yifan's eyes water, but he hid it with a smirk.
"Cheers," he said, raising his cup.
"Cheers," Fu Junyao shot back, clinking her cup against his.
They downed the baijiu in one go. The burn hit Wu Yifan like a fist to the throat, searing its way down to his stomach. He coughed, eyes watering, while Fu Junyao merely winced, her cheeks flushing bright red.
"Not bad," she said, though her voice wavered slightly. "Another?"
Wu Yifan grinned, already reaching for the bottle. "Your funeral."
Ye Xiwen watched, amused, as they matched each other cup for cup. Wu Yifan's jokes grew sloppier; Fu Junyao's insults turned into half-hearted grumbles. The baijiu worked fast—within half an hour, both were slurring their words.
"You… you're not as bad as I thought," Fu Junyao admitted, pointing a wobbly finger at Wu Yifan.
"High praise," he said, pouring another cup. "You're not… half bad either. For a tigress."
"Shut up," she said, but there was no heat in it.
Ye Xiwen cleared her throat. "Maybe we should slow down? You both have work tomorrow."
Wu Yifan waved her off. "One more. For… for friendship!"
"For friendship!" Fu Junyao agreed, clinking cups so hard the liquor sloshed over the sides.
They drained their cups—and promptly collapsed onto the table, giggling like children.
Ye Xiwen shook her head, smiling. *This is chaos*, she thought. *But… it's kind of nice.*
She started clearing the dishes, listening to Wu Yifan and Fu Junyao bicker about who'd won the drinking contest. Somewhere in the noise, the apartment felt a little more like home.