Zhao Meimei leaned into Shi Yang's embrace and felt him gently squeeze her waist. She didn't flinch, burped, and said with a smile, "I can't handle my alcohol, feeling a bit tipsy."
Shi Yang wrapped his arm around Zhao Meimei as they walked back, and Zhang Jiahui, trailing alongside, made small talk: "How much did you drink exactly? Do you feel like throwing up? If you have a headache, it might help to throw up."
Zhao Meimei snorted lightly through her nose: "I can't throw up, I have to hold it in."
Zhang Jiahui was taken aback: "Why hold it in?"
Zhao Meimei chuckled: "I'm just afraid I'll disgust you."
Zhang Jiahui hurriedly said, "It's okay, okay, should I go with you to the restroom then?"
Zhao Meimei waved her hand: "Thanks, teacher. If you aren't disgusted, I am. That's just how my heart naturally is."
Zhang Jiahui: "....."
