When they arrived at her apartment complex, He Su Ye struggled to wake her. She squinted at him groggily, clearly disoriented.
She was thoroughly drunk, clinging tightly to his shirt for balance as she staggered along in a zigzag, her steps unsteady. She began mumbling incoherently, “I’m not drunk! I can drink more! Get me a plate of peanuts for a little snack with my wine!”
Then, out of nowhere, she asked, “He Su Ye, when’s your birthday?”
He stopped, puzzled, and turned to look at her. Under the moonlight, her cheeks were flushed as she stood atop the edge of a flowerbed, looking down at him with wide, unfocused eyes. She giggled, “You won’t tell me? You dare not tell me? How dare you!”
Before he could respond, the faint scent of alcohol mixed with the sweetness of her breath as her soft, cherry-red lips brushed against the corner of his mouth, like a summer breeze. He froze, completely stunned, just as she lost her balance and fell into his arms.
Holding the drunken Shen Xi Fan, He Su Ye could only laugh helplessly. He sat down on the edge of the flowerbed, letting her rest in his lap. As she slept peacefully, he gazed at her features—her delicate eyebrows, her soft hair slipping through his fingers like silk.
It took him a while to calm his racing heart. Exhaling deeply, he pinched her nose lightly in frustration. “Silly girl, you’re driving me crazy. What am I supposed to do with you?”
This year’s “birthday gift” was proving hard to handle.
Taking her hand in his, he pressed a gentle kiss on it and thought, She won’t remember anyway, so I’ll take what I can get.
Little did he know, someone was watching from the shadows—a lit cigarette glowing faintly in the darkness. After seeing everything, the observer quietly drove away, leaving only the cigarette butt on the ground. A gust of wind extinguished the last ember.
* * *
Shen Xi Fan didn’t wake until 10 a.m., her stomach growling. Taking a deep breath, she jumped out of bed and opened her window. “Oh my! Why does it smell so strongly of alcohol in here?”
Her mother entered, carrying a bowl of porridge. “Why did you drink so much last night? Thankfully, someone kind-hearted brought you home. Otherwise, we might have had to go to the police station to claim you!”
Blinking, Shen Xi Fan asked, “Mom, who brought me back?”
“A tall, handsome young man. When he smiles, there’s a dimple on his right cheek. He said you’d had too much and recommended kudzu flowers and sour jujube soup for the hangover. Lucky for you, your dad had some kudzu flowers left from last time! Go wash up and drink it.”
As she sipped the soup, Shen Xi Fan spread open a book on Chinese medicine, carefully reading:
“Kudzu flowers, the unopened buds of the kudzu plant, are sweet and neutral in nature. Their function is to alleviate the toxicity of alcohol, awaken the spleen, and harmonize the stomach. Primarily used for excessive drinking, headaches, dizziness, thirst, and vomiting. Often paired with sour jujube. Recommended dosage: 3–15 grams.”
So that’s why, she thought. Theory really does need to be applied in practice.
Flipping back to the first page, she noticed a small note on the desk. Picking it up, she recognized He Su Ye’s handwriting:
“Rest well after drinking. Text me when you wake up. Also, my birthday is February 17th—but it’s already passed this year.”
She smiled to herself. So He Su Ye’s birthday was in February. No wonder he seemed gentle on the surface but carried a quiet arrogance beneath. It suited his intelligence and exceptional academic achievements—classic traits of his zodiac sign.
But how did he know she wanted to know his birthday? Could doctors read minds now?
Sitting at her desk, she stared blankly, trying to recall the events of the previous night. But all she found was a blank slate. Laughing at herself for overthinking, she picked up her phone and sent him a message.
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