A few minutes later, seven or eight empty glasses were already scattered across the table.
Of course, most of the Death in the Afternoon hadn't actually gone into anyone's stomach—Eula had used every trick imaginable to discreetly dispose of it: pouring some out, spilling some "accidentally," or dumping it into the potted plant behind her.
As for the honest and unsuspecting Yichen—
He had genuinely downed four or five full glasses.
At this moment, his face was bright red, his eyes unfocused, and he swayed unsteadily in his chair. He looked like he might start emitting visible steam at any second. It was clear he had entered the "highly excited and extremely honest" stage of drunkenness.
Seeing that the timing was perfect, Eula reached out and gently pulled Yichen's chair—along with Yichen himself—closer to her.
The distance was adjusted with precision.
Exactly the same near-whisper closeness she had seen earlier that afternoon in Jean's office.
She could clearly smell the faint scent of alcohol on him, mixed with a clean, subtle fragrance that belonged uniquely to Yichen himself.
Her voice softened, carrying a hint of coaxing and tension.
"Tell me honestly… those confessions you make to Grand Master Jean—are you serious about them?"
Yichen struggled to focus his gaze on Eula's face so close to his own. His expression turned solemn as he nodded vigorously.
"Of course! When you're in a position, you do your job! I take my work… hic… very seriously!"
Eula's brows instantly knit together. She lightly smacked his arm in annoyance.
"Don't dodge the question, idiot! I'm asking whether you like her! That kind of liking—between a man and a woman!"
Yichen tilted his head, clearly trying to process the meaning of her words. His drunken eyes grew hazy and confused.
Eula's heart tightened. She held her breath, waiting.
After a brief silence, Yichen suddenly seemed to realize something. His eyes lit up, and he declared loudly:
"I like short hair!"
Eula's heartbeat skipped violently.
Almost instinctively, she reached up and touched her own neat, short hair.
Before she could even process that answer, Yichen began counting on his fingers again, adding enthusiastically:
"And I like blue!"
"Because… because blue is the color of pure love! It's the prettiest!"
Short hair.
Blue.
Eula felt as though a soft feather had brushed across her heart. The ice around her lips nearly melted into a smile she struggled to suppress.
Isn't he just describing me?
This idiot… when he's drunk, he actually knows how to say something right for once!
Her mood lifted instantly, and even her voice became gentler.
"Then… if you like those things so much, why do you keep confessing to Grand Master Jean?"
That question seemed to touch a deeper, alcohol-numbed part of Yichen's mind.
He frowned, his face filling with struggle and confusion.
"Because… because…"
He opened his mouth, but his eyes lost focus, and his body began to tilt forward uncontrollably.
"Because what?"
Eula leaned forward urgently, wanting to hear the most important answer.
But after repeating "because" several times, Yichen never managed to say another word.
His heavy eyelids finally closed.
His head tilted to the side, and his entire body went limp—falling forward straight into Eula's open arms.
Completely passed out.
Eula instinctively caught his warm body, letting him rest against her shoulder.
Listening to his steady, deep breathing, she felt a mix of annoyance, amusement, and a faint disappointment at not getting the full answer.
Lowering her head, she looked at Yichen's defenseless sleeping face.
The face that usually wore either ridiculous smiles or a focused, professional expression now looked unusually quiet—almost obedient.
"Idiot… falling asleep right at the most important part…"
"This grudge, I'll remember it too."
Despite her words, she carefully adjusted her posture so he'd be more comfortable. One arm wrapped protectively around his shoulders, while her other hand gently—slowly—stroked his soft black hair.
Her movements were tender, as if handling a priceless treasure.
Just as the atmosphere turned strangely warm and intimate—
"Pff—hehehe… hic~"
A barely suppressed giggle, followed by a drunken hiccup, came from beneath the table.
Eula snapped her head downward.
Venti had somehow slid off his chair and was now sprawled on the floor, propped on one elbow. His face wore the blissful, fulfilled grin of someone who had just witnessed the sweetest ship in the universe.
His sparkling eyes were fixed on the two of them—he looked one notebook away from live-commentary.
Not only was he not embarrassed, he winked at Eula, raised his empty glass in a silent toast, and mouthed exaggeratedly:
"—Pure—Love—Vic—to—ry—!"
Eula's face instantly turned bright red.
🌅 The Next Morning
Sunlight slipped through unfamiliar curtains, stabbing painfully into Yichen's eyes.
He groaned, struggling to open his heavy eyelids as the dull ache of a hangover crashed into his temples like a tidal wave.
What greeted him was an unfamiliar ceiling… unfamiliar furniture…
This was definitely not his shabby apartment.
Yichen rubbed his temples and pushed himself upright. The thin blanket slid off his body.
He instinctively looked down—
—and froze.
His clothes were different.
His knight uniform was gone. Instead, he was wearing a clean, well-made cotton sleepwear set that clearly didn't belong to him.
A chill shot straight from his spine to the top of his skull.
He snapped his head up, panic-stricken, scanning the room.
His gaze finally landed on the window.
Eula stood there with her back to him, quietly gazing out at Mondstadt's morning scenery.
She was still wearing her signature uniform, posture straight and elegant.
Hearing movement behind her, she slowly turned around. Her ice-blue eyes were calm, as if nothing unusual had happened.
"You're awake."
Yichen's brain completely crashed.
He looked at Eula, then down at his pajamas, then back at Eula, pointing back and forth, his voice jumping an octave.
"E-E-Eula?! Th-Th-This—what's going on?! We—You—I—These clothes—?!"
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