Chapter Thirty-Nine: Drunk Out of My Mind

“I truly sympathize with the plight of you three,” Chen Bo said, feeling a deep kinship. “As for our own fates, there’s little need to dwell on them—speaking of them only brings tears.”

“Tears, you say? Chen, your words are striking; every syllable pierces the heart,” Bai Ge replied with a bow.

“Ah, ha ha…” Chen Bo looked slightly awkward. It was always a bit exhausting conversing with these refined scholars—every phrase had to be dressed in literary grace.

“Chen, we’ve grown used to it over the years. Who cares what others think? We live our lives as we please! Today, let me, Old Guo, treat you all to a drink—my treat!” Guo Zi’ang’s palm, broad as a fan, landed on Chen Bo’s shoulder with a hearty slap.

“Hiss!” Chen Bo inhaled sharply—this brute’s strength was fearsome, nearly knocking him to the ground. His delicate body could hardly withstand such rough handling.

When Chen Bo didn’t answer, Guo Zi’ang frowned. “What’s wrong? Are you looking down on me, Old Guo? Or do you think I’m not good enough?”

“No, no!” Chen Bo replied in a hurry.

“Then what are you dawdling for? Come, let’s go drink!” Without further ado, Guo Zi’ang took Chen Bo by the hand.

With no way to break free, Chen Bo had no choice but to follow along.

Watching this, Bai Ge shook his head, unable to suppress a laugh. “Guo Zi’ang is always so impulsive. But Chen is a man of intrigue as well. Anyone who makes it to Tianyang Academy can’t be as simple as they appear.”

He glanced at the ever-cool Du Gu Yixiao. “Brother Du Gu, it’s a rare thing for Guo to treat us. He’s notoriously stingy—this is the first time he’s ever picked up the bill since we’ve known him. We mustn’t refuse!”

“Profiteer,” Du Gu Yixiao muttered, tightening his grip on his treasured sword as he followed.

The four of them drew more than a few glances as they walked, especially Guo Zi’ang and Bai Ge.

One was a towering mass of muscle, over two meters tall; the other, a delicate youth barely reaching one-seventy. The stark contrast between the two drew every gaze, and soon enough, they were recognized.

“That guy’s so tall! His arm’s as thick as my thigh!”

“Hey, isn’t that the sword-hugging fellow? He looks like he’s asking for a beating… Wait, he seems familiar. My God, isn’t that Du Gu Yixiao—the one who was drugged by a woman and had to endure the shame?”

“And that pale pretty boy must be Bai Ge! I hear his fiancée is so hideous she could scare children. No wonder he ran off from the wedding, ha!”

“And the burly one is Guo Zi’ang, right? The bastard son of Tianyang City’s lord. I heard he was drugged in the womb, survived the poison, but ended up impotent for life!”

“Impotent? You seem to know a lot, brother. Care to share more?”

“Those three are all real oddballs. But who’s that youth walking with them? Not as effeminate as Bai Ge, but still looks like a pampered pretty boy living off others.”

“You don’t know him? That’s Chen Bo. His story could fill a whole biography.”

“That’s right. I heard that over a year ago, Chen Bo was a peerless genius, but for some reason his meridians were destroyed, turning him into a cripple. Then his fiancée came to break off the engagement—what a disgrace to men everywhere.”

“So how did he get into Tianyang Academy?”

“His sister is Chen Jingjing, get it?”

“Hmph, backdoor admission!”

The four arrived at a small inn within Tianyang Academy. It was modest, with only seven or eight tables, and the place was nearly empty. The innkeeper was idly toying with an abacus, while a drowsy attendant stood at the door, fighting off sleep.

“Boss, bring us a few pots of wine and some simple dishes! Nothing expensive, just enough to drink!” Guo Zi’ang ignored the daydreaming attendant and strode in, shouting.

His voice startled both the innkeeper and the attendant, but seeing customers at last, the innkeeper rushed to greet them. “Welcome, gentlemen! Please have a seat, just a moment! You there, stop daydreaming and bring the wine and food!”

Soon, a few plates of appetizers and several pots of wine were set on the table. Bai Ge poured himself a cup, took a sip, and grumbled, “Guo, you really are stingy!”

“Hey, what do you expect? I’m just a bastard son. I only get so much allowance every month—this is all I can afford,” Guo Zi’ang replied sheepishly, scratching his head.

They ate and chatted, with Chen Bo being made to drink an entire pot of wine. Not being used to alcohol, he was soon dizzy and lightheaded.

In his previous life, he’d never touched wine, and this life was no different—until now. After downing nearly a whole jin, it was a wonder he hadn’t passed out altogether.

“Alas, we are all wretches in our own right,” Bai Ge sighed as the wine took hold. “I pride myself on ten years of study, yet now, when I wish to compose a poem, I find my mind utterly blank.”

Guo Zi’ang tipped back a cup and slurred, “Bai, not to be rude, but even though I only attended private school for a year, I can still tell good poetry from bad. Your previous attempts… well, let’s just say they were uninspiring.”

“You don’t say,” Bai Ge shot Guo Zi’ang a glare, his drunken demeanor resembling a coy maiden pouting at her husband—a sight that sent shivers down Guo Zi’ang’s spine.

“If I, Bai Ge, could compose a classic poem, I’d have found a good wife long ago! No need for my father to force me to marry that woman,” Bai Ge shook his head.

Listening to their banter, Chen Bo couldn’t help but laugh. “What’s so hard about poetry? Hic! I have plenty of classics in my belly.”

At some unknown hour, Chen Bo awoke to find himself sprawled on a bed, with someone lying heavily on top of him.

His head throbbed—a clear sign of a hangover. Looking down, his face went deathly pale. The person collapsed atop him was Bai Ge!

Oh no! Had he lost his chastity?

Panic rising, Chen Bo racked his brain to recall what had happened the previous night. But his memory ended with the drinking—everything after was a complete blank.

“Damn, I actually blacked out!” he exclaimed nervously to the camera. “Dear viewers, what did I do last night? Am I still pure?”

“Sorry, streamer, I didn’t watch your broadcast yesterday, so I don’t know.”

“Can I just say the streamer shamelessly plagiarized Earth’s poetry last night? He recited everything from ‘Quiet Night Thoughts’ to ‘Water Tune Song’—so brazen! Did you pay the copyright fees?”

“The main point is, the streamer and three bros got into a drunken brawl last night! Really, trust me!”

“Is it okay to mislead the streamer like this?”

“Here’s the truth: all four of you blacked out, and in the end, the attendant had to carry you to your rooms. Watching the innkeeper and attendant try to haul Guo Zi’ang was hilarious—he was so heavy they had to call for help.”

“Excellent performance last night, streamer—one hundred and one likes for you, and I’m not afraid you’ll get cocky.”

Thanks to all the readers for your support—much love!