Yan Zhuo teased him: "To accompany the wine."

"..."

"I'll sleep with you, what's wrong with you having a drink?"

Song Yan sighed: "Do you know what you're talking about?"

"Okay, okay, I'm just kidding you. It's my classmate's birthday, and no one is there to accompany me, so let me join in the fun and have a meal. It's pathetic, so I just want to call you," Yan Zhuo lied and came. I don't feel guilty at all, "And I don't have to go back to school tonight, I can accompany you back to the nursing home."

He thought he could start another day of sleeping with him today.

Song Yan raised her eyebrows and understood what he meant: "But I'm not going back to the nursing home today."

"Oh, it doesn't matter," Yan Zhuo said boldly, not knowing what shame is, "I'll be where you are."

Song Yan was stunned.

In fact, his insomnia is much better, but he does it occasionally. Since Yan Zhuo went back to school, he forced himself not to think about it, and went to bed on time. At first, he was a little unbearable, but later he was able to fall asleep gradually, but he dreamed a lot and would be unsteady.

Now Yan Zhuo spoke up and took the initiative to stay. Whether he agrees or not.

Song Yan shook his head, and a string in his heart struggled subtly.

Finally he said, "Okay."

In the evening, this is a bustling pub.

Zheng Yi looked at the two who were a little late and said, "I'm late, two minutes and four seconds."

Yan Zhuo: "Sorry..."

Zheng Yi smiled and greeted Song Yan, "Hello, Mr. Blind."

Song Yan frowned.

Yan Zhuo was startled, and hurriedly gave Zheng Yi an elbow and mouthed: Song, it's Song.

Oh. Zheng Yi hurriedly changed his mouth to speak human words: "Mr. Song... hello, my name is Zheng Yi, it's from Yan Zhuo—" He deliberately paused, and said somewhat ambiguously, "Super good friend. "

Yan Zhuo pouted, disapproving of his self-righteous statement: "You can do it."

Zheng Yi shrugged and the three of them took their seats.

Song Yan said: "I heard that today is your birthday, happy birthday, sorry to come empty-handed."

Zheng Yi was flipping through the menu and paused, "My birthday?" He glanced at Yan Zhuo and laughed, "Why don't I know my birthday."

Song Yan turned his head, Yan Zhuo felt guilty, he whispered, "If I didn't say that, you could come."

Song Yan: "..."

Zheng Yi knew what was going on at a glance, sneered and continued to look at the menu.

After ordering the meal, Zheng Yi asked politely, "Would you like to have some more wine, the wine here is very delicious, and the alcohol is not too high."

Yan Zhuo refused: "No need."

Zheng Yi asked, "What about Mr. Song?"

Song Yan nodded and said lightly, "Yes."

Yan Zhuo was stunned for a moment, and looked at Song Yan strangely. Is Song Yan's brain pumping? He has never seen him drink alcohol. What happened today?

After a while, the food was served, along with two pots of sweet wine. Yan Zhuo glanced at it, and the degree was indeed not high.

The three chatted while eating, and the atmosphere was harmonious. Of course, mainly Yan Zhuo and Zheng Yi said.

Song Yan was in charge of listening, and occasionally responded with two sentences.

The sweet wine here is not greasy, Song Yan liked it very much, he took a small sip.

Zheng Yi was arguing with Yan Zhuo at first, but he suddenly changed the subject and said to Song Yan, "That's not good, Mr. Song, you're not a man like this, and a man, you have to drink a lot."

Doesn't this make it clear that Song Yan is not good enough. Yan Zhuo quickly smoothed things out: "Where do you come from so many fallacies, this is sweet wine, not beer, I think small sips are what elegant men do."

Zheng Yi looked at him with disgust: "What do you know, you don't even know how to drink sweet wine, and the children play on it."

He and I thought about each other every word, and his voice was like a sharp knife stabbing Song Yan's forehead. He hated other people's chattering, but now it's even more annoying.

Zheng Yi Yuguang saw Song Yan's actions, and immediately became excited, and said loudly, "Okay! Mr. Song is doing well." After speaking, he filled Song Yan's wine glass again, as if he would never return when he was drunk.

He said: "You are so refreshing, then I will not hide my clumsiness. I have done this cup. You can do whatever you want."

Hearing what Song Yan said, it wasn't good for him to drink, so he could only drain the wine in front of him.

Yan Zhuo glared at Zheng Yi, wishing to use his eyes as a knife to give him a few knives.

Halfway through, Song Yan went to the toilet.

As soon as Song Yan left, Yan Zhuo slapped the table and said to Zheng Yi in a bad tone, "I'll tell you that you definitely owe it, can you rely on it? You have a grudge against Song Yan, so you want to treat him like this. He frowned. "I want to ask you, have you really never been beaten like this?"

"No," Zheng Yi shook his head, hiccupped and said, "No one has hit me except you."

Yan Zhuo felt that he should not come to this dinner.

"I remind you, don't drink him again when he comes back, or I'll really turn against you."

"Cut," Zheng Yi dismissed, "Who am I for, not you, how long have you been chasing him? Is there any progress? Let him drink more wine and push him to bed like this, tsk, doesn't it save a lot of detours? ."

Yan Zhuo frowned, feeling uncomfortable because of his words: "Why are you so dirty."

"I'm not dirty, I'm realistic."

"You just use this method to bend straight men?"

Zheng Yi listened to his tone and seemed to despise him, and sighed: "If you ask again, it will hurt your feelings."

"..."

Yan Zhuo said, "Then let me ask something else, what do you think of Song Yan's attitude towards me?"

Zheng Yi stuffed a piece of chocolate into his mouth and said indifferently, "It's not like that."

Yan Zhuo asked, "What's not like?"

"It doesn't seem like I care, and it doesn't seem like I don't care."

"Aren't you talking nonsense?" Yan Zhuo said.

Zheng Yi reluctantly shrugged: "I can't tell you either, it's really hard to tell, Song Yan is too..." He couldn't find a suitable word to describe it, but it was confusing.