Chapter 1899 — The Drinking Contest, Part Two
The Blossom Guardian · Page 1 of 2
"Ahem..." Fan Ganhe was at a loss for words. Did this guy really not understand, or was he just pretending? He had only made a throwaway remark to cover himself, and the man had gone and told him, with the utmost seriousness, to drink more slowly!
"What's wrong? Did you drink so slowly that it burned your throat?" Wei Zhao asked.
"Nothing..." Fan Ganhe was speechless.
Wei Zhao filled his cup to the brim, and at He Meiyue's command, downed it in one go. This time Fan Ganhe did not dare dawdle, and yet he was still a few seconds behind Wei Zhao, which left him thoroughly annoyed.
"Sorry about that. I was a bit thirsty, so I drank too fast—now you'll have to take something off again," Wei Zhao said.
By now, Bai Weituo and the others were all watching Wei Zhao with looks of admiration. No way—was this for real? Wei Zhao could really hold his liquor, couldn't he? Two cups of baijiu down and he was perfectly fine, while Fan Ganhe was already a little flushed.
Fan Ganhe stared at Wei Zhao in astonishment. He had underestimated this fellow before, and only now did he realize that Wei Zhao had been playing the fool all along, feigning weakness to eat the tiger. From the moment Wei Zhao had produced those car keys, Fan Ganhe should have known—this guy had been putting on an act the entire time!
In truth, Wei Zhao had not been putting on any act at all. The caliber of opponent in his eyes had risen; the likes of Zhang Duopan and Fan Ganhe simply did not register with him. After all, the adversaries Wei Zhao faced now were all top-tier Earth-Rank experts.
If this affair had not involved Bai Weituo—the boy in his dormitory who had always called him his big brother—Wei Zhao would not have bothered to drink with these two at all.
"You've got some tricks up your sleeve, brother. Who'd have guessed?" A flicker of irritation passed through Fan Ganhe's eyes. Without waiting for Wei Zhao to speak, he pulled off his shirt, revealing a body of well-honed muscle.
"Ha, take off your shoes. Those count as clothing too," Zhang Duopan said. He was no fool—a quick roll of his eyes and he had found Fan Ganhe a way out.
"Shoes don't count as clothing, do they?" Bai Weituo had found his chance to humiliate the man and was not about to let it slip.
"If shoes don't count, then trousers shouldn't count either. Perfect—once you've stripped off everything, there'll be nothing left to take off!" Zhang Duopan finished and looked at Bai Weituo with undisguised smugness, thinking to himself: You're a few years too early to match wits with me, kid. They've called me 'Little Cutthroat' since I was a boy—and not for nothing.
A bottle of Erguotou filled the disposable paper cups, three cups to a bottle, and so three cups decided the contest. Fan Ganhe lost badly—though to give him credit, his tolerance was not bad. A whole bottle of Erguotou, and all he had to show for it was a bit of flush; otherwise he was none the worse for wear.
"Bai Weituo, now it's our turn. What do you say? If you're scared, just concede?" Though Wei Zhao's capacity for drink had taken Zhang Duopan and Fan Ganhe by surprise, Bai Weituo clearly could not hold his liquor—he had paled at the mere mention of beer earlier, let alone baijiu. And Zhang Duopan still had one trick in reserve that he had yet to play.
"Scared? I can't drink, sure, but for love's sake I'm staking everything today!" Bai Weituo threw back his shoulders and glared at Zhang Duopan, a surge of daring rising in his chest. Wei Zhao had already laid the groundwork for him; even if he lost, so what? One victory apiece—no one could say a word against either of them. This was precisely why Bai Weituo dared to accept the challenge.
In his heart, however, he was secretly grateful to Wei Zhao. If Wei Zhao had not won the first round, he could never have been so bold.
"Good. Ganhe, go have the waiter buy two more bottles of baijiu—the same kind as before!" With that, Zhang Duopan shot Fan Ganhe a meaningful glance.