Chapter 15 (2/2)
By the time Mu Wan and the others arrived, the dinner had already begun.
The female lead had not shown up, but Mi Yu, as the second female lead, and the male lead, An Cheng, were seated to either side of Director Zhang.
There were many people at the table. One more arrival barely drew any notice. Everyone found a place to sit and continued whatever conversation they had already been having.
When Mu Wan entered, Mi Yu glanced at her.
There was an open seat beside her. Mu Wan caught the hint and took it. She had only just sat down when she heard Zhang Chengze say,
“The bond between colleagues from the same company really is good. Saving each other seats at dinner.”
Zhang Chengze liked to drink. He had drunk plenty at the last dinner, and tonight was no different. He was close to fifty now, and years of frequent drinking had left his face naturally flushed, like paint rubbed onto Guan Yu.
“Yes,” Mu Wan said politely. “Thank you, Sister Yu.”
Mi Yu smiled and flicked the corner of an eye toward her.
“What are you thanking me for? Director Zhang was the one who specifically asked you to come tonight.”
Before Mu Wan could answer, Zhang Chengze was already waving a hand with a laugh.
“No need to thank anyone. Last time I saw how honestly she drinks. I just wanted a drinking companion.”
At that, Mu Wan had already uncapped the bottle beside her. The sharp scent of baijiu rose in an instant. She had not yet taken a sip, and she was already warming up.
Without hesitation, Mu Wan filled her glass and raised it toward Zhang Chengze with a smile.
“Since Director Zhang thinks so highly of me, let me offer the first toast.”
She opened by drinking three rounds to him.
After that, the atmosphere warmed at once. Director Zhang began talking about his next project after this drama. Mu Wan answered as needed, making it clear that she could not carry anything too large a role. Back and forth, Zhang Chengze understood her meaning perfectly.
After that, he never spoke to her again.
During dinner, people kept coming and going.
There were too many people. No one paid attention to the little roles.
Mu Wan had swallowed three glasses of baijiu, and it had hit her fast. Amid the noise of drinking and talking, she got up and slipped away.
She did not go back to her room.
Instead, she headed for the restroom first.
The aged liquor from Wencheng really was potent. Her stomach burned a little. After splashing water on her face, she stepped back out and leaned against the wall outside.
Three glasses were not enough to make her drunk.
Only enough to leave her flushed, overheated, and a little hazy in the head.
The wall was cool and smooth against her back, wonderfully soothing. Leaning there, Mu Wan stared at the crystal chandeliers in the corridor as the halos of light in her vision widened, shrank, blurred, and widened again.
The scene felt strangely familiar.
It had been less than half a month ago that she, too, had drunk too much at a dinner and stepped out to lean against a wall while she sobered up. She still remembered the bamboo leaves woven into the corridor carpet that day, one after another—and the man standing above them.
That cool, distant face.
That tall, spare body.
That faint scent of disinfectant.
When people were drunk, it was as though a different part of the mind took over, helping them remember things. Once sober, they forgot everything that had happened. And then, if they got drunk again, it all came back.
What did Mu Wan remember?
A low voice.
A shallow breath.
A steady heartbeat.
And the hard body she had wrapped herself around.
Mu Wan tipped her head back. Heat climbed through her throat. She swallowed once, and her skin began to warm all over. The circles of chandelier light in her eyes grew larger and larger.
Then she took out her phone.
“Hello, Dr. Liu,” she said. “Which room are you in?”
Alcohol was courage distilled into liquid.
That was exactly what this was.
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