"I'm going to the bathroom."
Hong Xiaoyu put down his chopsticks.
Then she looked at his glass.
No wonder.
It was almost empty.
He was still walking steadily, not staggering.
Li Shuru took a sip of ginger cola, her cheeks flushing; after all, she hadn't been skimping on the alcohol.
"Sister Shurui, eat more dishes."
Duan Xueying could tell she was tipsy too.
And also.
Certain dishes really had too much left.
Like the deep‑fried pepper intestines.
Sister Fang Qing really hadn't touched them with her chopsticks even once.
"I'm already stuffed."
Li Shuru loosely covered her stomach with one hand. "If worst comes to worst, we'll just pack it up. You two together don't fight as hard as I do alone."
As she spoke, she paused. "You're not doing it to keep your figure, are you?"
Duan Xueying played along with the joke. "Of course I have to watch it a bit. Otherwise if he starts disliking me and dumps me, what then?"
