I had originally planned to keep a low profile and muddle through quietly. But seeing Shangguan Fengliu drowning his sorrows in drink while his wife watched with icy detachment, a wicked idea suddenly popped into my head.

  —Since there was no dodging this “engagement banquet” anyway, I might as well help clear up his misunderstanding while I was at it. Who knew? Maybe this reckless, headfirst approach to the plot really worked, and I’d trigger some kind of “bonus reward.”

  I lifted my cup and leaned toward the space between them with a genial smile.

  “Madam, you know, these past few days Brother Shangguan’s been thinking about you nonstop. Otherwise, why would he be drinking himself into this state? Just now, after taking one bite of that ‘bamboo shoots with celery,’ he was sighing to me, saying, ‘If only my wife were here.’”

  The moment the words left my mouth, Shangguan Fengliu nearly choked. He hurriedly coughed and jumped in,

  “Y-yes, exactly! The young brother speaks the truth! My lady, do try this dish—it should suit your taste.”

  As he spoke, he actually picked up a bite and placed it into her bowl with exaggerated attentiveness.

  His wife shot him a cold glance, her fingers idly tracing the rim of her wine cup.

  “Oh? Thinking of me these days? Since when did you become so sentimental?”

  Then her tone shifted. “What I remember is someone whose single careless remark back then got my father—”

  She stopped short, changing tack without finishing the sentence, and took a light sip of wine.

  Shangguan Fengliu’s hand trembled; he nearly spilled his drink. He forced a dry laugh.

  “It was a misunderstanding. All of it—a misunderstanding!”

  Seeing the atmosphere stiffen, I quickly tried to smooth things over.

  “Madam, please don’t be angry. It’s not worth harming your health. Besides, Brother Shangguan may look carefree and flirtatious, but he’s soft-hearted at his core. If he truly didn’t care, why would he down three whole jugs of wine the moment he caught sight of you?”

  The corner of her lips twitched—just slightly—though she still maintained her frost-cold composure.

  “You do have a silver tongue, sir.”

  Yet the flicker of hesitation in her eyes didn’t escape me.

  Shangguan Fengliu immediately seized on it like a man grabbing a lifeline.

  “Exactly, exactly! You see—even an outsider can tell. These past few days, my thoughts have been filled with nothing but you—”

  He hadn’t even finished before she cut him off coldly:

  “Enough of your glib talk.”

  For a moment, the silence was so thick you could hear chopsticks tapping against porcelain.

  I couldn’t help but snicker inwardly. Sharp tongue, soft heart. Wasn’t that already a crack in the ice?

  Sensing that slight thaw, Shangguan Fengliu hastily pasted on a carefree grin.

  “Haha, the young brother here is standing up for me. Madam, listen to him—such rare loyalty.”

  The corner of my mouth twitched. And what exactly am I getting out of this? Playing matchmaker without even hazard pay.

  I glanced at Lian’. He sat upright beside me, expression cool and detached, yet the sideways glance he cast my way clearly said, Serves you right for sticking your nose in.

  Before I could patch things up, a sudden clamor erupted among the guests.

  “Where are the bride and groom? A toast! You can’t just let us drink alone!”

  In the next instant, several hands shoved at once, and the two of us were herded toward the front amid cheers.

  My scalp prickled. I hurriedly cupped my hands in refusal.

  “I’m a light drinker at best. A few cups are my limit—I fear I’d ruin everyone’s joy. Perhaps we could skip this part—”

  Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

  Before I could finish, a burly man from the Western Altar snorted.

  “What’s this? Looking down on us? Or do you think the Blood Lotus Sect isn’t worth your respect?”

  With a clatter, chopsticks and cups slammed down on the tables. The mood turned tense in an instant.

  My heart lurched. I immediately shook my head with an ingratiating laugh.

  “No, no, not at all! How would I dare? You brothers are men of great capacity—my paltry tolerance would only embarrass me if I tried to compete. I just fear I’d drink myself under the table and spoil such an auspicious occasion!”

  Even I felt my cheeks burning after saying that. Just moments ago I’d vowed to keep a low profile—and now I’d shoved myself straight into the spotlight.

  Amid a chorus of “Drink! Drink!” I had no choice but to steel myself, stand up, and raise my cup alongside Lian.

  The candlelight flickered. Red silk reflected faintly on his face, lending it a flush that contrasted sharply with his usual coolness—along with a trace of barely concealed unease. The atmosphere instantly tipped into something dangerously suggestive.

  “Bride and groom—cheers!” someone shouted.

  Prefect Li narrowed his eyes, cleared his throat, and lifted his teacup with a meaningful smile.

  “Correction—two grooms.”

  The hall erupted in laughter. I nearly sprayed wine straight out of my mouth.

  Lian’s face darkened, but he said nothing.

  Unfortunately, the alcohol hit me hard. My head heated up, and before I knew it, I’d downed several more cups. Drunken bravado surged.

  Someone shouted from the crowd, “Young master, give us another performance!”

  I froze as if struck by an acupoint. Slamming a hand on the table, I staggered to my feet, striking an exaggeratedly solemn pose and shouting at the top of my lungs:

  “At the crow of the cock—we rise—to dance!”

  My legs promptly betrayed me. One step and I lurched sideways, turning that lofty righteousness into a full-blown “drunken tumble.” I failed to complete even half a spin before plopping back into a chair, arms flailing wildly—more like I was trying to catch butterflies.

  The hall exploded with laughter. Applause and whistles rang out, tables nearly being slapped apart.

  I was delighted with myself and tried to launch into a “sword dance,” only to nearly swing a wine jug as if it were a blade.

  Lian finally had enough. His face darkened to storm-cloud black as he strode forward and grabbed my arm.

  “Enough—”

  He didn’t get to finish. A wave surged up from my stomach and—

  “Blargh!”

  I vomited all over him.

  Wine, bits of vegetables, an unspeakable mess splattered across his pristine plain robes, forming something that looked like an abstract painting titled Spring River, Ducks First to Know.

  The entire flower hall fell deathly silent. You could hear a pin drop.

  My heart went crack.

  I’m dead.

  Lian clenched his teeth, knuckles bone-white, fury roiling in his eyes. He was clearly at the very edge of restraint. If not for the setting, he probably would have sent me flying with a single palm strike.

  At the critical moment, Shangguan Fengliu darted in, quick as lightning, to smooth things over.

  “Ah—our young brother can’t hold his liquor. Sect Leader, please don’t take offense, he was just—”

  Mid-sentence, he grabbed his wife and pulled her over.

  “Madam, help out, quick—wipe him off!”

  She had been wearing a frosty expression and reached out reluctantly, but with that sudden tug she stumbled straight into his arms.

  The two of them ended up nearly pressed together. She instinctively tried to push him away—only to meet his gaze head-on.

  The air froze for a heartbeat.

  She gave a soft snort and slapped the handkerchief in her hand against his chest.

  “Clumsy fool.”

  Her voice was still cool, but the sharp edge was gone.

  Shangguan Fengliu froze—then his eyes lit up with an unconcealed grin.

  Just then, a familiar chime rang in my ears:

  Ding—Side quest triggered: “Estranged Couple Reconciled.” Favorability +10.

  Bleary-eyed and half-drunk, I thought to myself: See? Even reckless flailing can hit the mark.

  This farce had somehow, in the most muddled way possible, nudged a resentful couple a step closer to reconciliation.

  As for me, slumped half over the table with alcohol still fogging my head, I had only one thought left:

  I’m finished. Lian is going to kill me.

  His face was cold enough to freeze over. Without a word, he grabbed me—this drunken menace—and hauled me up from the chair, carrying me like an unruly large cat as he headed for the private room.

  The laughter and cheers gradually faded behind us. The bustle no longer seemed to have anything to do with me.

  So I simply shut my eyes, let my head loll, and pretended to pass out cold, letting him carry me.

  All the way back, I held my breath and played dead, praying silently: If I fall asleep fast enough, maybe the anger won’t catch up.

  Back in the room, Lian dumped me onto the bed and stared at me coldly for a long moment before speaking, his voice lowered dangerously.

  “Stop pretending. Get up and help me change.”

  My heart jolted—I nearly sat up on the spot.

  But the alcohol churned in my head, leaving me dizzy and slow. All I managed to choke out was,

  “…M-my lady… please calm your anger…”

  The moment the words left my mouth, I wanted to slap myself.