Tawana chuckled. “Mr. Ye, your voice is so soft, I doubt Miss Song can hear you. The walls and doors here are excellent for soundproofing.”
Just then, the door to one of the bedrooms opened, and Song Ruyu emerged, saying shyly, “Mr. Ye, I’ve never drunk alcohol before…”
Ye Chen asked, surprised, “You’ve never had a drink in your whole life?”
Song Ruyu nodded awkwardly, admitting, “My father always said alcohol clouds the mind and judgment, affecting one’s culti—”
She nearly said “cultivation” but caught herself, mindful of Tawana’s presence.
Ye Chen understood her meaning and smiled. “Sometimes, alcohol can indeed have the negative effects you mentioned. But other times, it can relax and delight you, even spark inspiration. Some mental fatigue can’t be eased by physical rest, but a few drinks can work wonders.”
He poured a glass of red wine and two glasses of baijiu, handing the red wine to Tawana and one baijiu to Song Ruyu. Smiling, he said, “Alcohol is a form of energy, though for you, it’s negligible. Don’t resist it deliberately, just let it flow through your body.”
From their first meeting, Ye Chen had sensed that Song Ruyu had never experienced a normal life.
Cold, ruthless, and treating lives as disposable, she was practically a trained assassin from childhood.
Moreover, the Song family had burdened her with heavy expectations, hoping she would elevate their status.
Raised this way, Song Ruyu was severely lacking in emotions and desires. Though she now served him, if she remained in this selfless, mechanical state, she’d be nothing more than a programmed killing machine.
Ye Chen didn’t need anyone to kill for him.
He wanted comrades who shared his ideals.
He aimed to break the psychological constraints that had bound Song Ruyu her entire life.
Raising his glass to the two women, he smiled. “Ladies, cheers.”
With that, he downed his entire glass.
Tawana took a sip of her red wine, which wasn’t as fine as her usual top-tier vintages, but she followed Ye Chen’s lead and finished it in one go.
Song Ruyu, catching the strong, savoury aroma of the baijiu, hesitated briefly before drinking the whole glass.
Due to her lifelong cultivation, she had an acute sensitivity to all forms of energy. As the baijiu hit her stomach, she suppressed the spicy, burning sensation, but her body instinctively went on high alert.
The alcohol contained an energy that clashed with her own.
To some extent, alcohol was akin to poison: its energy numbed or even destroyed nerves and consciousness, while poison’s energy could claim a life.
Feeling as though she’d been poisoned, Song Ruyu’s first instinct was to use her spiritual energy to seal and expel the alcohol.
But recalling Ye Chen’s advice not to resist, she restrained the urge, allowing the alcohol to course through her.
Soon, it reached her nervous system unimpeded, giving her a slight buzz.
In that moment, she realised alcohol wasn’t as malevolent as she’d thought, nor was its threat as severe. The tipsy sensation began to feel oddly fascinating as she grew accustomed to it.
Seeing her as if she’d unlocked a new world, Ye Chen poured another glass for himself and her, saying, “Sometimes, sudden insights come from unexpected moments. Try studying how alcohol works in your body—it might even aid your understanding!”
