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A man can see without his eyes, but he cannot see without his heart.
Hua Manlou learned this truth after his sense of sight was taken away from him at a young age. But he's for...
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"Lu Xiaofeng, you're going to get drunk out of your mind one day."
Softly spoken, the warning came from across the room. Patient, unseeing eyes faced towards his companion, sensing little movement other than flowing wine which trickled beyond the bottle's lip.
"That's the goal. I want to knock out for one night and just sleep, with nobody bothering me."
The man gave his drinking no respite, continuously letting the wine pour past his lips. Only brief pauses occasionally for a breath as he laid upon his back. His companion simply shook his head in defeat with a knowing smile, for he too had grown accustomed to the scent of rich, decadent rice wines that permeated the room in which they were.
Without warning, Lu Xiaofeng suddenly sat up, the delicate bottle still clutched in his hand. He pursed his lips as if in deep thought, then, without a word, stood and began walking across the room.
"What is it?" Hua Manlou asked, sensing the shift in his friend's movements.
Although his eyes could no longer see, Hua Manlou's acute hearing told him that Lu Xiaofeng's steps were not those of someone simply indulging in drink. No, these steps spoke of purpose, of something urgent, as if time were suddenly of the essence.
Lu Xiaofeng set the bottle down with a soft thud, his fingers lingering for a moment on the slender neck. He tapped it gently, the sound almost imperceptible, as if he were lost in thought.
"There's something off about this place," he muttered, his voice low. "I can't quite put my finger on it, but I feel like something's about to happen." He paused for a moment before asking, his voice barely above a whisper, "Hua Manlou, do you sense anything?"
The young man stood, flicking his fan open with a swift motion before folding it closed again. He stepped around the stool beneath him, moving towards the door that led to the rest of the inn.
Outside, the sounds of revelry filled the air—the laughter of men and women, their voices rising in joy, the clinking of glasses, the bustle of a night well spent. But there was nothing else. No footsteps, no hushed conversations in the hallways. Just the cheerful sounds of the evening.
"I hear happiness," Hua Manlou said softly, a smile playing at the corner of his lips as he pushed the door open, the separation between them and the festivities fading away. "But it's always better to err on the side of caution."
"And..."
Before they could step out, Lu Xiaofeng reached behind him, grasping the bottle once more, his grin widening. "While we're at it, we might as well pick up some more."
Hua Manlou shook his head with a small, half-amused smile, unfolding his fan once again. His eyes twinkled with a knowing fondness for his friend's unrelenting love for alcohol. Over the years, he had become accustomed to the way Lu Xiaofeng's clothes always carried the scent of wine—rich, decadent, and often from places far beyond their borders. It wasn't just the cost of the wine that was a concern; it was the effort to keep up with Lu Xiaofeng's boundless tolerance. The man could drink from dawn to dusk, and even when intoxicated, he somehow managed to remain as sharp and witty as ever.
