"Why didn't you get me a blanket?"
Oh, the blanket.
Wen Baiyang went to the bedroom, brought out the blanket from her bed, and placed it on the sofa.
He lay there, motionless, with drunkenness glinting three or four points in his eyes, an ambivalent emotion seemed to swell within, yet he spoke not a word, just watched her.
For a long time.
Then he finally said, "Help me cover up."
He was so different today, like a small child in need of care.
Wen Baiyang squatted down, fluffed the blanket, spread it evenly, covering him entirely except for his head peeking out, and she detected a strong scent of alcohol, "Are you feeling upset?"
"Uh-huh."
She could tell, he was in a low mood.
She didn't know how to comfort him, "Do you want to drink more?"
Qiao Nanchu laughed.
Thinking he wanted to drink, she stood up to get the alcohol, but as soon as she stood, he grasped her, "You can't offer alcohol to men, and certainly not at home."
She was still young, inexperienced.