Behind them, Rong Yan watched as Leng Feng downed cup after cup beside her, drinking at least seven out of ten glasses.
Everyone else noticed his unusually bad luck. Every time he lost a round, they wore expressions that were hard to describe.
Only Estelle wasn't surprised at all. She continued with her own business, eyes downcast, not even bothering to look up.
Fu Yi had brought out his private stock of alcohol, each bottle different from the next.
Everyone who drinks knows: no matter how well you can hold your liquor, don't mix drinks. Mixing drinks not only gets you drunk easier but also harms the body.
After the tenth glass, Leng Feng couldn't hold it anymore. Holding his stomach, he staggered out of his seat and ran outside, retching loudly.
Rong Yan frowned, worried, "Is he okay?"
Li Shengxiao elegantly set down his dice, his tone indifferent, "He won't die."
He looked up at Fu Yi and Cui Jiangjing, saying, "I'm done playing. I'm heading back."
