Chapter Sixty: The Four of Us

In any case, the worst thing that could happen while boating on the lake was someone falling overboard, so the manager simply assigned a whole boat of rescue staff to follow behind Wen Jingxing and his group. The production team, wanting to continue filming from the best angles, also dispatched two boats to trail them—one for close-up shots, the other for distance shots.

Thus, a grand procession of boats formed upon the lake.

On this side, Song Wanning was chatting with Nan Yan. Each boat had eight seats, four on either side. Song Wanning’s group and Nan Yan’s group sat on the same side, the other two groups on the opposite. With tacit understanding, the girls were placed in the middle, the boys on the outside.

Because of this, Song Wanning and Nan Yan kept their voices low as they spoke. Across from them, Jian An’an had to crane her neck and strain her ears just to pick up a few snatches of conversation, but still couldn’t make out what was being said.

Nan Yan, curious, asked, “Wanning, that was so dangerous just now! How did you manage to keep your balance? You’re truly amazing!”

Song Wanning scratched her head. “It wasn’t so bad, really. Not that dangerous—just a bit of a jolt, that’s all.”

In her previous life, she’d reclaimed her country’s lost territories by leading troops from city to city, conquering each one. Starting at the border, she’d fought all the way to the capital. Along the way, she’d faced a city that was particularly difficult to take: perched atop a mountain, surrounded by a mighty river—easy to defend, hard to attack. The current was swift; steering a boat there was no easy feat, let alone crossing the river. If the wind picked up, they were often at the mercy of the water, tossed about by the churning waves, only to be swept downstream in the end.

It was during these times that Song Wanning was forced to adapt to life on a boat. Fighting on such a river was fraught with dangers—not only the risk of capsizing, but also sudden arrow attacks from the enemy city. She herself had narrowly escaped being struck several times.

Meanwhile, the considerate Wen Jingxing was not idle as Song Wanning spoke with others. He leaned slightly toward her, listening intently. In a surprisingly similar fashion, Yun Ze mirrored Wen Jingxing’s posture.

Across from them, Jiang Mingzhao couldn’t help but remark, “Honestly, the four of you—can’t you just say what you want out loud? Why go to all this trouble? We’re all friends here, you know. No need to be so secretive.”

But Wen Jingxing, ever observant, noticed that Song Wanning’s expression seemed a little off as she spoke, as if she’d recalled something unpleasant. Hoping to distract her, he picked up Jiang Mingzhao’s thread, “I know, you’re just curious, aren’t you?”

Caught in the act, Jiang Mingzhao sheepishly rubbed his nose with his forefinger.

Then Wen Jingxing turned to Song Wanning: “After talking so long, you must be thirsty. Would you like a drink?”

The cabin was spacious enough; a table stood in the center aisle, laden with tempting pastries and a variety of drinks. But with Jian An’an’s recent heavy-handed plop onto her seat, everything on the table had shifted askew—a comical sight.

Song Wanning nodded, saying she’d like something to drink, but declined the beverage Wen Jingxing offered. Instead, she produced a bottle of wine from within her coat. Her sharp eyes could tell at a glance—this was a fine vintage, sure to be delicious.

Wen Jingxing, remembering the last time Song Wanning got drunk and called him “A Xing,” instinctively tried to dissuade her: “Maybe we should save that for when we’re back?”

Song Wanning was especially adorable when tipsy, and Wen Jingxing didn’t want anyone else to witness her like that. He rather regretted having spoken up for her in front of the director earlier—truly, he’d brought this upon himself.

“No,” she insisted.

This time, Song Wanning demonstrated her inner strength, forgoing a corkscrew and twisting the bottle open with her bare hands. This feat left everyone dumbfounded.

[Wow, Song Wanning’s arm strength is unreal!]
[Who would’ve guessed, she looks so delicate but she’s so strong!]
[If she punched me, would I go flying?]
[Young Master Wen: Danger!]
[I’m suddenly worried for Wen’s safety!]

Nan Yan stared at Song Wanning in astonishment, silently giving her a thumbs up.

Song Wanning poured herself a glass, then one for Wen Jingxing. Nan Yan, focused on enjoying the boat ride, declined the wine. Yun Ze, who rarely spoke up first, said, “Pour me a glass, too.”

Without hesitation, Song Wanning passed him the bottle. Yun Ze took it and filled his glass to the brim.

Nan Yan looked concerned, “Is your body up for that?”

Yun Ze smiled, “Are you worried about me? It’s just one glass, no big deal.”

Jiang Mingzhao, meanwhile, cried out, “Hey! Yun Ze, don’t fill your glass to the top! There’s only one bottle—if you take that much, what’ll I drink?!”

Yun Ze gave a crooked smile, “It’s just wine. I’ll have an identical bottle sent to you later.”

Jiang Mingzhao beamed, “You all heard that! He said it himself, I didn’t pressure him.” He picked up the bottle, fawning, “Young Master Yun, shall I pour you another?”

“Enough with the flattery,” Yun Ze replied. “Just have some yourself.”

Jiang Mingzhao wasn’t offended. This wine was incredibly expensive—seventy or eighty thousand per bottle. He was usually frugal, not one to splurge on such things. Getting a free bottle now, he was secretly overjoyed, and didn’t care what Yun Ze said.

Song Wanning smiled as she watched the two banter—it was a peaceful, heartwarming scene.

She then picked up her glass and took a large sip.

Wen Jingxing noticed that her expression had eased considerably, and let out a long sigh of relief. But after just a moment, when he looked back at her, he saw her cheeks were flushed and her eyes had grown a bit dazed.

He was helpless—her tolerance was so low, yet she loved to drink.

Song Wanning seemed both drunk and not quite drunk. After another big gulp, she instinctively sought out Wen Jingxing, leaning close to whisper in his ear, “Wen Jingxing, is this wine fake? I don’t feel anything at all…”

“You’re already drunk, you know that?” Wen Jingxing replied.

“No way, I’m perfectly sober!” Song Wanning protested, living up to her reputation as a poor but enthusiastic drinker—always forgetting the last time, and never missing a chance the next.

“Alright, you’re not drunk. Want some more?” Wen Jingxing smiled, offering her his own glass.

[Spicy! Wen Jingxing personally plying his wife with wine!]
[She’s obviously drunk! And he’s still encouraging her—he’s got an agenda!]

Seeing more wine, Song Wanning didn’t hesitate to take it, praising, “Delicious! I want more!”

At that moment, Jiang Mingzhao said, “Want another? I’ve got some here.”

To everyone’s surprise, Song Wanning turned him down!