"No wonder you're Brother Qian—truly admirable," Ye Chu said with a smile, though the mockery in his tone was unmistakable.
"Heh, a trifle," Qian Xin replied with feigned indifference, though inwardly he sneered, Wretched dog, you'll be the one weeping soon enough.
Before long, the waiters returned, bearing platters of exquisite delicacies—along with two bottles of vintage, eighty-year-old Moutai.
As Ye Chu uncorked one, a heady fragrance of aged spirits filled the room.
"Father, here, let me pour for you."
He filled Jiang Haiyun's glass, which the latter accepted with great care. Eighty-year-old Moutai—he had never once tasted such a treasure.
"Mother, would you care for some as well?" Ye Chu asked, turning to Han Mengjuan. She rarely drank, yet even she was tempted by the legendary liquor.
"Just a little."
He poured her a brimming glass regardless, then looked toward Jiang Junyao. She said nothing, but he simply took her cup and filled it to the brim.
The first bottle was emptied in an instant.
Opening the second, Ye Chu casually picked up a porcelain bowl, filled it to the edge, then handed the near-empty bottle toward Qian Xin.
"Brother Qian, there's just a little left—have a taste."
Qian Xin's lips twitched with suppressed fury, but he took the bottle and poured the last trickle into his glass. Gazing at the pitiful sip of wine, his hatred for Ye Chu deepened. The bastard orders such costly liquor, yet leaves me with mere drops.
"Father, Mother, let us drink together," Ye Chu said warmly, raising his cup.
Jiang Haiyun, already impatient, lifted his glass and took a cautious sip. At once, the rich bouquet filled his mouth, warm currents sliding down his throat, leaving a lingering fragrance upon lips and tongue. Truly extraordinary—worthy of its eighty years.
Both Jiang Junyao and Han Mengjuan sampled theirs with closed eyes, savoring each note.
Qian Xin, too, did not hold back; after all, even he had never tasted such a rarity.
Only Ye Chu remained indifferent. He had sampled finer vintages before. Taking a generous gulp, he smacked his lips lightly. "Hmm, not bad."
Qian Xin sneered inwardly, convinced Ye Chu was merely posturing.
Jiang Haiyun set down his glass with hearty laughter. "Indeed, worthy of its age. Unique, profound, a taste to linger for a lifetime. To savor such a wine—I could die without regret."
Qian Xin nodded in eager agreement. "Uncle Jiang speaks the truth. To taste this wine is to live without regret."
"Young man, we are truly indebted to you." Jiang Haiyun raised his cup once more. "Come, let us drink!"
Glasses clinked, laughter rang, and the convivial air between Jiang Haiyun and Qian Xin all but excluded Ye Chu.
After a time, Jiang Haiyun could not resist asking, "Nephew, earlier you said you might be able to help Junyao. Was that true?"
Qian Xin thumped his chest confidently. "Of course. My father was recently appointed as a director of the Jiangnan Chamber of Commerce, overseeing Jiangdu's affairs. As you know, the Chamber often cooperates with the Huangfu family. With my father's aid, it should be possible to arrange a partnership with Junyao."
In truth, his words were half exaggeration—a mere director held little sway over the decisions of the mighty Huangfu clan.
But Jiang Haiyun, oblivious, grew instantly fervent. "Nephew, you must lend us your hand. If this succeeds, the Jiang family will be forever grateful."
"Uncle, you flatter me." Qian Xin replied with hearty magnanimity. "Junyao and I are old classmates. Her matters are mine as well. Rest assured, I will speak to my father."
Even as he spoke, his gaze lingered tenderly on Junyao, hoping to stir her heart. Yet she remained calm, unyielding, and he could not hide his disappointment.
"Then my thanks, Nephew." Jiang Haiyun raised his cup once more, sighing. "What an outstanding young man—if only you were my son-in-law."
Han Mengjuan shot him a sharp glare, displeased.
Qian Xin's heart leapt with delight, though he masked it with a feigned sigh. "Alas, perhaps fate has played its hand. Had I returned sooner, maybe Junyao would not have…"
He broke off mid-sentence, draining his glass with practiced sorrow. The unspoken words were clear enough to all.
Jiang Haiyun's eyes flickered, offering encouragement. "Do not lose heart, Nephew. Life is uncertain—who knows what the future may hold?"
But at once he felt Han Mengjuan's frosty gaze beside him, and pretended not to notice, continuing to drink.
Jiang Junyao's expression remained composed, untouched by the currents around her.
Qian Xin's eyes burned with new resolve. "Uncle speaks true. Life is ever-changing; the future is unwritten." As he said this, he cast a provocative glance at Ye Chu.
Ye Chu ignored him entirely. A petty clown, dreaming of stealing my wife—let him chase fantasies.
After a while longer, Qian Xin began to feign drunkenness. His body swayed, and at last he collapsed face-first upon the table.
"Nephew! Nephew…" Jiang Haiyun called loudly, but no response came.
"Young men truly lack capacity. After so little, to be drunk already." Jiang Haiyun chuckled, shaking his head.
Ye Chu saw through it instantly. This was no intoxication—it was a ruse to escape the bill.
Jiang Junyao's brows knitted, and she, too, sensed the deceit.
When Jiang Haiyun raised his cup again, she stopped him. "Father, enough. Think instead of how we are to settle the account."
At first he was puzzled, until Han Mengjuan's suspicion burst forth. "Could it be this boy is only pretending?"
Qian Xin sneered inwardly. Indeed, I am. And what can you do about it?
He had drunk plenty with Jiang Haiyun earlier, and none here knew his true capacity. Who could prove whether he was drunk or not?
Realization dawned on Jiang Haiyun, sobering him at once. He called loudly again, shaking the man, but Qian Xin remained limp.
"What are we to do?" Jiang Haiyun muttered, his face sour.
"What else?" Jiang Junyao said coolly. "We pay the bill ourselves."
Han Mengjuan's displeasure was evident. "Invite someone to dine, and he drinks himself into oblivion. I say he's doing it on purpose."
Hmph, blame me? Blame that wretch who ordered such absurdly expensive wine, Qian Xin cursed inwardly. It cost him face, but better that than bleeding his fortune dry.
Jiang Haiyun turned on Ye Chu, eyes ablaze. "This is your fault, you useless waste! You had to order those outrageously priced bottles—now we've lost twenty million for nothing!"
"Father, weren't you drinking merrily just moments ago?" Ye Chu's retort left him seething with humiliation.
As Jiang Haiyun was about to erupt, Ye Chu interjected swiftly. "Don't worry. It's a minor matter—I have a way to resolve this."
"Still boasting at such a time?" Jiang Haiyun thundered. "Wretched fool, besides empty words, what use are you?"
Han Mengjuan's expression shifted. "Xiao Chu, do you truly have a way?"
Ye Chu grinned. "In prison, I once learned a certain method to sober a man instantly. Allow me to wake Young Master Qian."
…