The man flicked the ash from his cigarette, watching the spinning wine pot gradually slow, then come to a halt.

Everyone held their breath, as if they'd just witnessed a fleeting illusion.

The wine flowed into the glass—no more, no less than needed.

A drop of crimson blossomed in the golden liquid, spreading slowly like a seductive flower blooming in silence.

"A good drink is like a woman," the man said calmly. "Admire her from afar, and she'll remain serene and beautiful. But try to possess her... and she’ll never be the same."

Ding Xiang stared at the glass. She brought it to her lips.

The moment the wine touched her tongue, a mix of iron and spice exploded across her palate.

For a split second, she saw a young girl standing alone in the wind—her eyes clear, her heart full of sorrow.

Tears welled in Ding Xiang’s eyes and slid silently down her cheeks.

The bar fell silent. Even the seasoned mixologists were stunned.

One drink. One single drink had moved Dragon City's top wine critic to tears?

Ding Xiang slowly placed the glass down, her voice trembling with awe.

“May I ask your name, sir?”

“Ye Chenghuan,” the man replied.

“And where do you work?”

“Just a hotel security guard.”

Ding Xiang blinked, caught off guard.

That level of mixing skill… from a mere guard?

Before she could speak again, Ye Chenghuan grinned.

“Remember what you said earlier? If my drink moved you…”

He suddenly leaned in and kissed her.

The kiss was brief—more a touch than a claim—but deliberate. Controlled.

Ding Xiang's eyes widened, stunned, yet not resistant.

When she finally regained her composure, her expression was… complicated.

“Tonight’s bill is on me,” she said evenly, voice regaining its professional cool.

Gasps rose across the lounge. Some laughed, some watched in quiet admiration.

The TV behind them suddenly flashed to a breaking story: an international political scandal involving a disgraced foreign official.

The guests turned their attention to the news. But Ye Chenghuan only sipped his drink, a quiet fatigue creeping into his eyes.

Though drunk, his hand was steady as ever.

As he raised another glass, a graceful woman approached, her voice soft:

“Mind if I sit here?”

He nodded faintly.

She seemed to appear from the mist—eyes cool, smile faint.

Everything after that became a blur…

The next morning, sunlight filtered through the window blinds.

Ye Chenghuan sat up slowly, frowning as he woke.

He rarely got drunk. Yet last night, he had.

Looking down, he saw a woman curled up beside him, still fast asleep.

Her skin was porcelain pale, her features delicate and calm.

Strands of hair fell loosely across her cheeks, framing a serene expression.

He tried to recall the events of the night before…

but all he saw in his memory was fog.

Had anything happened between them? He couldn’t say.

But something inside him whispered—yes, something had changed.

With a quiet sigh, he got out of bed and walked to the bathroom.

Water cascaded down as he stood under the shower, letting the heat wash away his thoughts.

In the mirror, he saw a slightly worn, handsome face.

He ran a hand over his cheek and forced a small smile.

By the time he stepped out again, the woman was gone.

Only the lingering scent of her perfume remained…

and a small folded note left on the nightstand:

“Thank you for last night. I should go. —D”

He stared at the note for a long time, unmoving.

Finally, he exhaled.

“Another debt I probably won’t get to repay.”