The wine was a fine bottle Shi Yang's father brought from home, and he also specially carried two bottles of dry red for the ladies to try.
Zhao Meimei got half a cup, took a sip to try it, and almost found it too sour for her teeth.
A glass was handed to her from the side, and without looking, Zhao Meimei took two gulps. The bitter taste of the wheat, mixed with a hint of sweet and refreshing fragrance, instantly dispelled the sour taste in her mouth.
Zhao Meimei was taken aback, glanced at the remaining liquid in the glass, turned her head in surprise towards Shi Yang, and met his smiling eyes.
The elders were busy chatting with each other, and no one noticed this small gesture.
Zhao Meimei's lips curled up as she squinted slightly, silently asking: Why are you giving me booze?
Shi Yang threw a very ambiguous look, the hint couldn't be clearer.
