"I just guessed because the stitching and the style looked familiar, then I connected the dots—wait a minute." Su Mei grabbed the sleeve of Yuhan's jacket, turning it over to inspect.
She ran her fingers along the edges like she was searching for something. Then her face lit up.
"Here! Chen Zixuan always leaves a mark on every piece he sews himself." She pointed at a faint embroidery. "Look—'LYCZ.' Your initials and his. Obvious, right?" she said with a teasing laugh.
"Plus, zixuan had been visiting the company frequently using his personal room, so..." Su mei explained further.
Yuhan stared at it for a long second before glancing up at Zixuan, who sat there smiling faintly.
"Your smile is fake," Yuhan muttered, downing another cup of wine. His cheeks were already flushed, his eyes glassy.
"Why are you confusing me?" he mumbled. "Why did you give me clothes… and take Yueyue handkerchief…" His words slurred, half to himself.
"What are you talking about?" Zixuan whispered, leaning closer from his seat. Su Mei shrugged helplessly, trying not to laugh.
Yuhan poured himself another drink—and that one tipped him over. He stood abruptly, swaying slightly.
"Yuhan!" Su Mei hissed, but he didn't hear her.
He stumbled toward Zixuan's table. Zixuan immediately stood, catching him before he fell.
"I'm not supposed to be drunk on an occasion like this," Yuhan muttered, trying to steady himself on Zixuan's chest.
Zixuan exhaled, half-smiling. "You are drunk."
"How can you smile at another girl like that?... after what you did to mine" Yuhan said, his voice cracking with raw emotion.
"Yuhan," Zixuan whispered again, glancing around as the room began to take notice. "Not now."
"You took my precious handkerchief… do you know how important it is to me?" Yuhan said, tears already welling. His words tangled in the air, heartbreak and confusion mixing with the scent of wine.
"You're a jerk. A jerk-Zi—that's what you are." He hit Zixuan lightly on the chest, unsteady.
By now, half the hall had gone quiet, eyes fixed on them.
"How dare you take my—" Yuhan's voice rose before he accidentally crushed the glass in his hand. The sharp crack echoed.
Everyone gasped.
"I didn't mean—the glass—" he stammered, staring at his bleeding palm, frozen in shock.
Before he could even look closer, Zixuan pulled him in and wrapped his arms around him tightly, pressing his face into his chest.
"There's blood on your hand. Don't look," Zixuan whispered, voice trembling just enough to betray worry.
Yuhan's heart pounded against his chest, the warmth of Zixuan's hold sobering him more than anything else could.
"Let's go," Zixuan said softly, covering Yuhan's eyes with one hand while gripping his injured wrist with the other, guiding him out of the hall.
The crowd watched in stunned silence as the doors closed behind them.
"Shouldn't someone stop them—or at least help Yuhan?" Chen Xi asked, hurrying toward Su Mei.
"Don't worry, Ma," Su Mei and Wang Lai said at once.
Su Mei blinked in surprise, only then realizing Wang Lai was beside her.
Chen Xi eyed them both suspiciously. "Why do you two look like you know something?" she said, narrowing her gaze.