Chapter 47: Drunkenness, a Night of Enchantment

"Are you tired?" Na’er asked softly.

Wang Chen rubbed his brow. "Mm, a bit sleepy."

"Let me take you to the resting room, then." Na’er took Wang Chen’s hand.

The two quietly slipped away from behind the podium. The fairies, still immersed in joy and excitement, took no notice of their departure.

Only the chieftain glanced at them briefly, a kindly smile appearing on his weathered face. "So this is your choice."

...

They walked together through the village. With the lively commotion from the square echoing in the distance, the surroundings felt all the more deserted.

"Our village is small and rundown, isn’t it?" Na’er asked.

"Not at all," Wang Chen replied. "Rather than rundown, I’d call it quaint."

He took in the houses along the path. Both in style and in the marks left by time, these structures were unmistakably ancient.

"These houses have stood for hundreds of years," Na’er said. "They’ve been repaired over time, but the basic structure and style remain unchanged."

"No wonder I feel like I’ve stepped into some ancient village of the Western Regions," Wang Chen mused.

They chatted idly as they walked, stopping in front of a standalone house with no neighbors.

Na’er opened the door and stepped inside. "This is my home!"

"You don’t lock your door when you go out?" Wang Chen asked curiously.

"There’s no need here," Na’er replied with a smile. "We don’t use money in the village, and the fairies own nothing of real value. What’s the point of locking up?"

"Well, it seems not only the architecture is old-fashioned—even your customs are ancient. Doors left open at night," Wang Chen chuckled.

Na’er led him through the courtyard to a guest room on the east side.

Inside, the room was immaculate; the bedding appeared freshly changed, with not a trace of dust or mustiness.

They stood in the room for a moment, an awkward silence between them. Wang Chen was about to say he’d rest, when Na’er suddenly spoke: "Could we talk a little longer?"

Wang Chen blinked but didn’t refuse. He was tired, but not so much that he couldn’t keep his eyes open.

Na’er left the room, returning with two jars of honey wine and some snacks.

"Drinking again?" Wang Chen eyed the wine with a wry smile.

His tolerance was not the best.

"What fun is there in just talking? It’s much more interesting to drink and chat."

Na’er’s smile was like a blooming flower as she poured Wang Chen a cup.

He hadn’t expected her version of a late-night conversation to involve drinking. He’d thought they’d simply talk, perhaps she’d even teach him some fairy techniques.

But it really was just drinking and chatting.

Na’er’s capacity for drink was impressive; she downed her wine in one go, her face showing no trace of flush.

Wang Chen thought to himself that he couldn’t let himself look weak in front of her, so he made sure to finish his own glass whenever Na’er finished hers.

Since this wasn’t a contest, he didn’t think to use his reversal skill.

Their conversation meandered, starting with amusing incidents in Luzhou and drifting into stories from their lives.

Compared to Na’er, Wang Chen found his own life surprisingly full of stories; before waiting for him in Luzhou, Na’er had lived only among her kind, in a life unchanged for decades.

It was only in the past few years, after coming to Luzhou, that her days had become more eventful.

So it was mainly Wang Chen speaking, and Na’er listening.

He talked about his childhood, the few friends he had, and the occasional amusing episode.

He also spoke of his hopes and worries about the upcoming national school competition, his wish to attend a good academy.

He spoke of wanting to see the world, as he’d never left Luzhou, and dreamed of traveling far and wide, experiencing different customs and landscapes.

One cup of honey wine followed another, their topics flowing with it. Wang Chen grew tipsy, his head heavy with drink, until he slumped over the table.

Seeing him like this, Na’er asked, "Wang Chen, are you drunk?"

He just waved his hand, insisting he was fine—the way men always stubbornly deny being drunk.

Na’er found his obstinacy amusing and covered her mouth to laugh.

Her laughter faded, and she gazed intently at Wang Chen’s profile.

Softly, she asked, "Wang Chen, was what you said that day in the little room—about your dreams—true?"

Wang Chen forced himself upright at her words. "Of course. I’d never joke about something like that. Every word was from the heart."

"First, I think the Gentle Refuge for Other Races must be shut down. As long as it exists, our people will never receive real respect..." His words grew slurred, each sentence needing correction.

"So the... ze... this..." he struggled to make his tongue obey.

But before he could manage it, Na’er suddenly kissed him, her soft tongue entwining with his.

Na’er pressed herself against him. Whether it was the wine or something else, her body radiated heat, as if she could burn right through him.

"Miss Na’er, you—" Wang Chen managed to gasp out, only for Na’er’s finger to press against his lips.

"Don’t call me that. My real name is Firmina."

In the moonlight, Na’er spoke solemnly, as if revealing a secret.

"Alright, Firmina, I think we’re moving a bit too—mmm—"

He couldn’t finish; Na’er’s lips silenced him again, her kisses deeper, more entwined.

...

The next day, Wang Chen awoke within a dream.

Eyes half-closed, he savored the memory: in his dream, he had lain with a woman.

"Why did the woman in my dream look so much like Na’er? How sinful," Wang Chen muttered.

He lay there a long while before opening his eyes to take in his surroundings, recalling the events of the previous day.

"I remember drinking a lot with Na’er last night, talking late into the night... hmm?" A strange emptiness from below startled him.

He threw back the blanket—he was completely naked.

"Why am I undressed? I never sleep in the nude," he wondered, unable to recall how he’d gotten into bed.

He searched the bedside until he found his clothes. Only after hastily putting them on did he feel a bit more secure.

As he straightened the bedding, he tried to piece together what had happened.

"Did Na’er undress me so I could sleep? But would she really take everything off..."

Suddenly, Wang Chen’s fingers froze, his eyes widening in shock—

On the sheets, there was a glaring stain of crimson.

"What’s going on?" He already knew the answer, but couldn’t bring himself to accept it.

"But how could there be blood? Wasn’t she..."

"So everything that happened last night wasn’t a dream after all?"

Wang Chen ran his hands through his hair in utter confusion.