Have You Lied Enough? - Chapter 19

Zuo Chi’s kiss was fierce and forceful, prying open Fu Wansi’s lips and plunging in with a wet, sucking sound. The soft touch, carrying the warm scent of alcohol and revealed a sudden, remarkable improvement in Zuo Chi’s kissing skills. Fu Wansi tilted his head back slightly, surrendering to this rough, arrogant kiss. Zuo Chi’s dry, clean scent was intoxicating, his lips surprisingly soft. Even through the alcohol-induced haze, a faint, inexplicable pleasure stirred within Fu Wansi.

He allowed Zuo Chi to leave a visible mark on his lip, as if venting some pent-up frustration.

When they parted, Zuo Chi licked his lips, his fingertips casually trailing down Fu Wansi’s neck, completely oblivious to the boldness of his actions.

Fu Wanchu suddenly understood the situation and teased, “Is this the little sweetheart who called you from the car?”

Her words were clever, implying that Fu Wansi had a queue of “little sweethearts” waiting for him.

As expected, Zuo Chi narrowed his eyes and glanced down at Fu Wansi.

Fu Wansi hadn’t anticipated Zuo Chi’s sudden appearance, nor did he expect this aggressive approach. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Li Yiwen, the kid, sprawled on the floor, his face a mask of bewilderment after being unceremoniously thrown down. He scrambled back up and sat half a meter away from Fu Wansi.

Apart from the fleeting pleasure he’d just experienced, Fu Wansi felt strangely indifferent.

His emotions were scattered and unformed. He felt nothing substantial towards Zuo Chi or Li Yiwen, and even if he did have feelings, he didn’t know where to begin.

Zuo Chi was still leaning over him, his expression like that of an empress catching her husband in the act, his eyes narrowed in displeasure as if demanding an explanation.

Fu Wansi could tolerate him for a full minute, sustained by that vague fondness. But at sixty-one seconds, he lost his patience. He grabbed Zuo Chi’s head and gave it a firm shake.

“Sit down.”

Zuo Chi tilted his head stubbornly, refusing to budge.

Fu Wanchu wanted to laugh. When did her brother ever have such a brazen kid hanging around? The audacity was hilarious.

She asked, “Who’s this? The one from last time? Doesn’t look like him.”

“A mischievous pup,” Fu Wansi said, grabbing Zuo Chi by the collar and yanking him onto the sofa beside him. He stubbed out his cigarette and muttered, “Needs a good spanking.”

Zuo Chi draped his arm over the back of the sofa behind Fu Wansi’s neck, leaned in close, and buried his face in his shoulder with a loud “Woof!” He then nipped at Fu Wansi’s neck, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he mumbled, “Uncle, I’ll settle the score with you later.”

“Here you go,” Fu Wansi said, pushing Zuo Chi’s head away. His palm was covered in soft, fluffy hair.

“Give it here,” Zuo Chi said, biting Fu Wansi’s ring finger. After biting it, he licked it, watching Fu Wansi jerk his hand back as if electrocuted. His gaze flicked toward Li Yiwen, a sly smile darkening his eyes.

Seeing the tension, Cheng Bo quickly offered an out. “Wansi, here’s a suggestion from your brother: let’s handle family matters at home. Wanchu and I will just find some other place to continue drinking.”

“No family matters,” Fu Wansi said, still wanting to drink more. He tapped the sofa arm with his left hand, teasing Cheng Bo. “Running out of money for drinks?”

Cheng Bo grinned shamelessly. “Since when have I ever been stingy with you?”

Fu Wansi didn’t mention the two cases of Eight Treasure Porridge. That would be too embarrassing.

Fu Wanchu, annoyed by the men’s dawdling, shook the dice cup in her hand and beckoned them closer. “You’re all still talking so clearly, meaning you’re not drunk yet, right? Come on, let’s go big! Whoever has to stand to leave tonight is a bastard!”

Li Yiwen, seated on Fu Wansi’s other side, whispered, “Shouldn’t it be whoever falls over who’s the bastard?”

“Who cares?” Fu Wanchu, clearly excited after witnessing her brother’s domestic drama, turned and kissed her boyfriend. “Darling, deal them their cups.”

Xia Yuze added another cup and handed one to Zuo Chi.

Fu Wansi glanced sideways and noticed that as soon as Zuo Chi took the dice, he casually rolled them twice between his fingers; a smooth, practiced motion.

The game was simple, purely based on luck.

Each player had a cup and two dice. Rolling a 7 meant adding liquor to the communal cup, however much you wanted. Rolling an 8 meant drinking half the communal cup. Rolling a 9 meant drinking the entire communal cup. Rolling two 1s allowed you to designate anyone else to drink. Rolling doubles meant switching the order of rolling the dice. Any other roll meant no drinking.

Zuo Chi, having taken Li Yiwen’s seat, was the first to roll.

He shook the cup casually, revealing a 3 and a 4.

Zuo Chi let out a flat “wow” and stood up, grabbing two bottles of liquor and filling the communal cup to the brim.

The force of his action startled everyone in the room.

He turned to Fu Wansi and whispered, “Uncle, don’t roll a 9.”

Fu Wansi glanced at Zuo Chi’s hand, masking the emotion in his eyes. “You roll for me,” he said.

Zuo Chi blinked but didn’t move. Fu Wansi nodded toward the dice. “Roll.”

Realizing he’d been caught, Zuo Chi suddenly felt cheered. He chuckled and shook the cup, revealing a 3 and a 2; safe rolls that required no drinking.

He leaned back, his fingertips brushing Fu Wansi’s hand. “Uncle,” he murmured, “you should thank me.”

Fu Wansi pressed his hand down. “No need.”

Zuo Chi, pinned beneath his hand, smiled but said nothing.

“Damn it!” Cheng Bo shook his head violently, downing more than half the shot glass Zuo Chi had poured for him. His head swayed, and he looked like he was about to pass out.

Li Yiwen looked a little afraid.

Fu Wansi said coldly, “He’s faking it.”

“Wansi, I’ve been a fool to hang out with you all these years!” Cheng Bo threw his jacket aside, his shirt sleeves rolled up as the alcohol kicked in. “Your luck is bad today. I can tell. You’ll have to drink more later.”

Fu Wansi lit another cigarette, his words carrying a hidden meaning. “Whether I drink or not isn’t your call.”

Zuo Chi’s fingertip traced a ticklish pattern on the palm of Fu Wansi’s hand. Fu Wansi glanced at him. Zuo Chi winked slyly, his tongue flicking suggestively over his lips as he mouthed slowly, “Reward me later.”

Fu Wansi averted his gaze, but he didn’t refuse.

Whether it was because the private room was too warm or because Zuo Chi’s body temperature was high, the place where they were pressed together felt pleasantly warm, an indescribable comfort.

Fu Wanchu was having a lucky day. She’d barely had a full glass so far, thanks to her boyfriend pouring her a small shot that she downed in two gulps.

Fu Wansi’s situation was even more absurd. After several rounds, he hadn’t touched a drop. Zuo Chi kept shaking the dice cup for him, resulting in safe rolls like 22 or 34, and even managed to sneak in a few extra shots.

Cheng Bo, the unlucky one, was already seeing double. It was clear that Fu Wansi had someone keeping watch nearby. This wasn’t a game of chance; it was a game where Zuo Chi shook the dice however Fu Wansi wanted!

They’d turned a perfectly good drinking game into a remote-controlled one!

Seeing through the ruse, Cheng Bo, hesitant to speak up in front of Zuo Chi, remained silent. Fu Wanchu, however, called it out directly: “Tell your little pet to put his hand down. He’s too good at this! You shake it yourself!”

Zuo Chi didn’t budge, but Fu Wansi took the dice cup from him, gave it a perfunctory shake, and said, “I’m not your real brother, you know.”

“Don’t bring ‘brother’ into a drinking game! How unmanly!”

Fu Wansi opened the cup: a four and a five.

Fu Wanchu laughed so hard she slapped her thigh. “Your shitty luck is hilarious!”

“Damn…” Fu Wansi chuckled.

Cheng Bo pushed the full shot glass toward him, gloating. “Drink up. I’m taking a break. I bet this glass won’t even need to move from your spot later.”

After a moment’s pause, Fu Wansi held a cigarette between his lips, picked up the shot glass, and tilted his head back to drain it. His Adam’s apple bobbed several times as the glass emptied. He tossed the glass aside and handed the dice to Li Yiwen.

Luck was truly a mysterious thing. Ever since Fu Wansi’s first drinking session as an adult, his luck had been consistently bad. Anyone who played with him could easily get him to down several shots.

Others might have quit playing, but Fu Wansi, relying on his high alcohol tolerance, never backed down. Whether he enjoyed it or not, he always drank until he was thoroughly sloshed, then puked it all up at home.

At heart, he was a social person who loved to have fun. It was just that few people could handle taking him out, and even fewer could drink with him without reservations.

After two rounds, Fu Wansi rolled three consecutive nines, forcing him to down two more large glasses of mixed liquor. The drinks were gulped down quickly, and he’d already consumed quite a bit before Zuo Chi arrived. The cumulative effect was enough to leave anyone reeling.

Fu Wansi showed no signs of intoxication, aside from slightly reddened eyes and slower speech. His drinking manners remained impeccable, making it hard to tell whether he was truly drunk.

Cheng Bo rolled a seven. The spectators, eager for drama, cheerfully added more than half a cup to his shot glass. Behind him, Fu Wanchu’s boyfriend, egged on by her, added another half cup, filling it to the brim.

“Game over!” Fu Wanchu laughed. “Brother, you’re done!”

Fu Wansi bit his cigarette, a wry smile spreading across his face. “If I die,” he said casually, “just bury me next to my grandparents.”

“I’ll dig the grave myself,” Fu Wanchu said, making a heart gesture with her hands.

It was Zuo Chi’s turn next, and he was up against Fu Wansi.

Everyone at the gaming table had experienced Zuo Chi’s skills. Fu Wanchu shouted, “Wait until we play ‘Count Seven’! This little darling is cheating!”

She laughed so hard she almost dropped her cigarette. “Go on, go on—roll it! Let’s see if my brother can lose four rounds in a row!”

Zuo Chi picked up two dice and tossed them into the cup. He turned to Fu Wansi. “Uncle, what should I roll?”

“You want me to drink for you?” Fu Wanchu winked at Fu Wansi, her expression suggestive. “Brother, you’ve hit the jackpot! He knows how to take care of you!”

Fu Wansi flicked the ash from his cigarette without even looking. “Four,” he said.

Zuo Chi raised an eyebrow. Seeing no reaction, he ruthlessly rolled a four. After opening the cup, he casually shook it twice and closed it again.

Fu Wanchu wore an expression of heartbreak, as if her favorite ship had been derailed.

Now it was Fu Wansi’s turn. Unlike Cheng Bo and Fu Wanchu, who shook the dice like seasoned gamblers, Fu Wansi casually gave them two perfunctory shakes before letting go.

Li Yiwen considerately lifted the lid for him.

“What?!” Cheng Bo shouted, his eyes widening. “Two ones? Wansi, this isn’t your luck! I haven’t seen you roll a one in over a decade!”

Fu Wansi was momentarily stunned, but he quickly understood the situation. He glanced at Cheng Bo, flicked his wineglass with his fingertip, and said calmly, “Drink. I’ll call an ambulance after you finish.”

Fu Wanchu chuckled beside them, her gaze shifting between her brother and Zuo Chi, who was massaging Fu Wansi’s wrist.

“Me?!” Cheng Bo pointed at himself, slurring his words from intoxication. “Out of all the people in this room, you picked me? Why didn’t you think of me when you were sleeping? I’ve got my fucking ass up in the air, but you still won’t come in!”

Fu Wanchu nearly spat out her wine, pounding the table and gasping for breath between laughs. “Pucker up right now and let me have my fun, and I’ll drink for you.”

“Get lost, get lost,” Cheng Bo said, half-considering covering his rear.

Fu Wansi watched with keen interest, enjoying the spectacle. This was his first time holding his own at a drinking table, and he urged, “You’ve been yelping long enough to have downed half a cup. Hurry up!”

“You think I’m you? You’ve been drinking all night and still act like nothing’s wrong.” Cheng Bo wasn’t one to back down. He took a deep breath, stood up, and downed the shot in one gulp.

The younger man beside him fretted, repeatedly offering to drink in his place, but Cheng Bo refused.

After that shot, Cheng Bo was done for the night. He slumped onto the sofa, waving his hand dazedly. “Give me a minute… Don’t start anything else… I need to… recuperate…”

“One down,” Fu Wanchu said, pouring herself a small shot. She giggled as she drank. “I haven’t even gotten warmed up yet, you wuss, Cheng Bo!”

Fu Wansi toyed with the dice. Zuo Chi chuckled in his ear, briefly pressing his palm against Fu Wansi’s before withdrawing, as if they were holding hands.

Fu Wansi’s expression froze momentarily before returning to normal.

No one else noticed, but he felt the dice vanish from his palm and then two new ones appear in their place.

The two ones he’d rolled earlier hadn’t been dumb luck; Zuo Chi had switched the dice.

Zuo Chi didn’t just swap the dice; he also pre-rolled two ones.

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