The fruit wine at Lanting Pavilion truly lived up to its reputation—sweet, refreshing, and rich with fruit fragrance.
Wen Ning couldn’t help but swallow a little.
Shen Zhou reached out and rubbed her cheek; just as he imagined, it was soft and tender.
For the sake of the fruit wine, Wen Ning decided not to fuss with him. She took a delicate sip—delicious! Her eyes lit up. Why had no one told her this fruit wine was so good?
She kept sipping in small mouthfuls, and by the time Shen Zhou came back to his senses, there was hardly any wine left in the jade flask.
Wen Ning, swaying unsteadily, tugged at his sleeve and mumbled,
“Shen Zhou, don’t move.”
She shook her head, trying to stand firm, but her body lurched and she nearly fell. Quickly, Shen Zhou caught her.
Wen Ning shook her head harder, tumbling straight into his arms. Her clear eyes seemed misted over, staring fixedly at him.
Shen Zhou clasped his hands behind his back, letting the little girl cling to him. He glanced at the wine flask and said, “You’re drunk.”
Wen Ning nodded like a pecking chick: “Seems… just a little.”
“Is it good?”
Wen Ning’s eyes curved into a smile, dimples showing, obedient and sweet. “Extremely… delicious.”
Shen Zhou leaned closer to look at the wine flask in Wen Ning’s hand and said, “How about letting me have a taste?”
Before Wen Ning could react, Shen Zhou had already taken a sip from the very spot she had drunk. “Indeed, it’s good.”
Wen Ning blinked her dark eyes: “But… I already drank from that…”
Shen Zhou lifted his eyelids lazily, gazing at her. “So what?”
He rubbed the crown of her head, speaking carelessly. “I don’t mind you.”
Wen Ning was caught off guard, muttering softly, “But… I do mind…”
Shen Zhou raised his brows: “What did you say?”
Wen Ning cupped her head, shook it firmly, and declared, “Nothing.”
Unsteady on her feet, she pointed toward the night sky: “I want to go up to the roof… to see the stars.”
Shen Zhou looked at the swaying little girl, pressed his fingers to his brow, and sighed helplessly. “Are you sure?”
Wen Ning nodded hard: “Mm.”
“Hold on tight.” Shen Zhou wrapped his arm around her waist, leaped upward, and landed on the rooftop. Blue tiles and white walls gleamed under the frosty moonlight, the night breeze drifting gently, scattering tenderness across the scene.
Half-dazed, Wen Ning clung to Shen Zhou as he carried her up, frightened enough to grip his collar tightly, her little hand wandering restlessly.
Shen Zhou caught her roaming hand and teased, “Madam, where exactly are you trying to touch?”
If it were an ordinary day, Wen Ning would most likely have blushed and run away when teased like this. But she reminded herself—right now, she was drunk. And what bad intentions could a drunk person have? At most, they’d just do the things they usually wanted to do but didn’t dare.
Pretending not to hear, Wen Ning’s little hand, through the dark fabric, tentatively touched. The feel… was actually quite nice.
Shen Zhou’s gaze dropped, narrowing in disbelief at the girl in his arms.
This little one—she actually liked that? He chuckled, tapped her forehead lightly, and asked, “Had enough?”
Wen Ning swallowed, reluctant, her bright eyes fixed on him as she slowly withdrew her hand.
Shen Zhou leaned closer, deliberately teasing, his tone roguish: “Looks good?”
Wen Ning nodded, muttering, “Looks good… but not for touching! Bad Shen Zhou!”
Shen Zhou nearly laughed out of exasperation. He’d seen people tease others before, but never someone who failed at teasing and then turned the tables.
He encircled her, holding her tightly, drawing nearer: “Do you still want to keep touching?”
Wen Ning lifted her gaze: “Can I?”
Shen Zhou’s eyes glimmered with amusement as he looked at her. “Call me ‘brother’ first.”
Wen Ning blinked in confusion, but obediently whispered, “Brother.”
Shen Zhou pressed closer, his eyes softening, voice lingering with deliberate ambiguity: “Just how many brothers do you have?”
Not understanding, Wen Ning counted on her fingers: “Brother Zilang, Brother Xuan Du…”
Shen Zhou was nearly driven mad by her answer. He caught her little hand firmly, his voice dropping low: “Enough.”
Wen Ning stammered, “Wh-what’s wrong?”
Shen Zhou gave a cold snort: “They’re all your brothers—then what am I?”
Wen Ning looked at him seriously and said, “You’re my husband!”
Shen Zhou had still been sulking, but when he heard those words, he froze completely. Wait—how did this little girl get so good at coaxing people? Where had she learned such tricks?
He didn’t even realize that the corners of his mouth were stretching nearly to the back of his head. Pulling her closer into his arms, his deep voice carried a tenderness that could not be hidden. “Be good. Say it again—what am I to you?”
Wen Ning cupped his face with both hands, her drunken eyes hazy as she murmured, “You’re my husband? No, wait—” Suddenly her eyes widened in delight. “It’s you! The little monkey!”
Shen Zhou sighed helplessly, steadying the girl in his arms. “And who exactly is this little monkey?”
Wen Ning muttered to herself, “The little monkey is you! Didn’t you say you’d repay me? I even lost my jade pendant because of you.”
Shen Zhou raised a brow, curiosity flickering. “You lost your jade pendant… is this monkey really that important to you?”
Wen Ning held his face firmly, speaking each word with drunken conviction. “The little monkey… is you! You were lost. And Uncle Lin and I took you home.”
By the end, Wen Ning could no longer hold herself up. She collapsed softly against Shen Zhou’s chest, mumbling, “You forgot me… even mistook me for someone else… so stupid…” Her words trailed off, and she fell completely unconscious in his arms.
Shen Zhou was left standing there, struck as if by lightning.