What the hell is going on?
Chi Zhan’s mind was a tangled mess. He stared at the two men, his head throbbing.
“How long have they been drinking?” he asked the waiter.
“Two or three hours, maybe.”
After a moment of thought, Chi Zhan walked over to Zhou Yanxing, crouched down, and gently nudged his shoulder.
“President Zhou, wake up.”
As he leaned in closer, a strong wave of alcohol hit him—so sharp and pungent that it made his head spin. Just how much had Zhou Yanxing had to drink?
Zhou Yanxing stirred slightly at the nudge, muttering something unintelligible under his breath. Even though Chi Zhan leaned in, he couldn’t make out a word. Just your typical drunken rambling.
Even drunk, Zhou Yanxing’s profile remained absurdly handsome. A rosy flush tinged his cheeks from the alcohol. Chi Zhan called his name several more times, but Zhou didn’t respond.
Chi Zhan stood up, clearly at a loss. He then called out softly, “Doctor Cen,” a few more times, but Cen Chi looked just as out of it.
Just then, the bar switched to a fast, high-energy track. The noise roused Cen Chi, who blinked open his eyes. Finally, a lifeline.
“Doctor Cen, you’re finally awake,” Chi Zhan said, relieved. He glanced at the menu and ordered a refreshing lemon water, then handed it to him. “Drink a little.”
Cen Chi moved sluggishly, slowly reaching for the glass. His fingertips brushed against Chi Zhan’s as they held the cup together—cool and slightly clammy.
Rubbing his brow, Cen Chi murmured, “…Secretary Chi, why are you here?”
Maybe it was the alcohol, but Cen Chi’s gaze was unusually direct, openly tracing Chi Zhan’s features like he was sketching them in his mind.
Chi Zhan didn’t pay it any mind.
“The bar’s about to close. They called me. But President Zhou’s completely out—I can’t wake him.”
“If he’s drunk, there’s no waking him,” Cen Chi chuckled. “You could try dumping a bucket of ice water on his head.”
“……”
Great. Then he might as well not show up for work tomorrow.
“Do you know where President Zhou lives?”
Cen Chi rested his chin in one hand, letting out a dreamy “Hmm?” as if his voice was floating on clouds. Chi Zhan repeated the question a few more times until Cen Chi finally replied, “Nope. Let him fend for himself.”
He’s definitely drunk. He feels completely different from usual.
Frustrated and getting nowhere, Chi Zhan pulled out his phone to look up the nearest hotel. But just as he did, Cen Chi closed his eyes again.
“…Doctor Cen?”
No response. He was out like a light.
Chi Zhan started to get a headache. One drunk person was manageable—but two? How the hell was he supposed to carry both?
“Sir, we’re about to close. Could you…” the manager came over to check in.
Chi Zhan regretted not asking Tao Ran to come with him. Two people might’ve made this easier. Now what—take one and leave the other?
“Zhou Yanxing, wake up,” Chi Zhan said, patting his boss’s face. Normally he wouldn’t dare call his name directly, but Zhou was so drunk, he wouldn’t remember it anyway.
The next second, Zhou’s hand suddenly reached up and grabbed his.
“Don’t be noisy,” Zhou muttered, eyes still closed.
His palm was large, broad, and strong—easily engulfing Chi Zhan’s hand. It was hot, even feverishly so.
Zhou’s bleary eyes fluttered open. His pupils lacked focus, and his usual sharp gaze was gone. After a moment, it was like he finally recognized who was in front of him.
“Chi Zhan?”
Chi Zhan let out a silent sigh of relief and pulled out his phone again to search for hotels. But just as he typed in a few characters, Zhou plucked the phone right out of his hand.
“What are you doing? Playing with your phone on the clock… careful or I’ll dock your pay.”
Chi Zhan didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.
“I’m calling a car to take you home,” he said. Since Zhou was awake now, they didn’t need a hotel.
“What about him?” Zhou pointed at Cen Chi slumped on the couch.
“Uh…”
“Are you taking me first, or him?”
“…Huh?”
Chi Zhan was completely blindsided.
He never thought he’d find himself in a real-life version of that classic dilemma: If Zhou Yanxing and Cen Chi both fell into a river, who would he save first?
“Why don’t you both go back together? You’re friends, right? One night at your place shouldn’t be a problem.”
“……”
“But if you had to choose?” Zhou pressed, refusing to let the question go.
“Of course I’d choose you,” Chi Zhan replied without hesitation.
Only an idiot would answer that question wrong.
Zhou clicked his tongue. Who knew if he was satisfied with the answer, but his gaze cleared as he turned to look at Cen Chi, raising an eyebrow at him like: I win.
He took a sip from a glass of water.
“Secretary Chi, good work tonight. Take tomorrow morning off. No need to check in at the office.”
Chi Zhan assumed he was still drunk and replied with a half-hearted “mm,” reaching for his phone. But Zhou held it just out of reach.
“Did you hear me clearly?”
Now that sounded more like something Zhou would say sober.
But Chi Zhan didn’t have the energy to figure out whether he was sober or not. He knelt on one knee on the couch, stretching toward the phone. Zhou moved it left and right, dodging him. Chi Zhan lost his balance and toppled forward.
In a desperate attempt to steady himself, he reached for the armrest—but there was nothing to grab onto. His hand landed squarely on Zhou’s shoulder.
The next moment, Zhou was caught off guard as Chi Zhan fell right on top of him, both of them collapsing onto the couch.
Chi Zhan had rushed out without a coat, just wearing a thick sweater. Zhou’s jacket was draped over the back of the couch, which meant their bodies were pressed together with little in between. Chi Zhan’s hand landed squarely on Zhou’s torso—right on those enviable abs.
Hard as a rock.
Chi Zhan reflexively gave them a little squeeze.
Both of them froze.
Chi Zhan was so shocked by his own “bold” action that he scrambled to get off Zhou immediately—but moved too fast and ended up slipping back down again.
