The evening banquet was held at C&C's Spanish restaurant, but before it officially began, Ned and his father, Jonathan Harrington, had a brief two-minute conversation in the second-floor café.
"Did you get it?" Jonathan looked at his son.
Ned nodded. "I went to Dean Massey this afternoon, but the sample I obtained was very small…" he said in a low voice.
"That's fine. Even if it's just a single strand of hair, Massey can still produce a test result." Jonathan gave him a reassuring nod. "Is there anything I need to do?"
Ned shook his head.
"Alright then. The banquet is about to start—we can't be late as the hosts. Let's head upstairs together!" Jonathan stood up first and walked out. Ned flipped open his phone, his brows furrowing tightly.
Since this was a cooperative banquet between the business and political worlds, involving nothing more than the exchange of mutual benefits with no real conflicts of interest, the dinner proceeded in a thoroughly congenial atmosphere. Both sides had essentially reached an intent to cooperate and agreed to formally discuss specific policies and directions at the Ministry of Commerce next Tuesday.
After the banquet, Jonathan had Ned accompany the two young congressmen to a KTV for more drinks, while he himself had the driver take him to Dean Massey's hospital.
It was the same KTV he had brought Sophie to that day. As childhood friends who had grown up together—and with their families combining business and political connections for mutual profit—Archibald had already reserved the most luxurious private room and invited eight sexy, glamorous A-list female celebrities to keep them company.
Since they were entertaining congressmen to discuss business, drinking was inevitable. Yet Archibald rarely saw Ned behave like he did tonight—throwing all restraint to the wind and downing glasses with the women without hesitation.
"Ned, easy on the drinking. We're here to talk business," Archibald said seriously for once, taking advantage of the moment when the two congressmen were buried in the pile of beauties. "Stop drinking—business comes first!"
Tonight, Ned was utterly unrestrained, drinking at least twice as much as usual.
Watching the two congressmen, emboldened by alcohol, groping the women's breasts and sneaking pinches on their perky butts with lecherous, drooling expressions, Archibald couldn't help but let out a snort of contempt.
"What the hell happened to you? Have you lost your mind? Why are you trying to drown yourself in booze?" He grabbed Ned's arm that was holding the glass and pushed away the drink a woman was offering to Ned's lips.
Ned glanced at him, simply switched to his other hand, and picked up another glass from the table himself.
"Hey, why won't you listen to me?" Archibald shouted. He could tell something was seriously off with Ned tonight.
It was already midnight. Sophie called Ned for the first time that night, wanting to say goodnight. Since he had a business engagement, she was calling later than usual. But the ringing went on until the call automatically ended; no one picked up.
"Is the event still not over?" Sophie wondered, a little puzzled. Normally he'd already be home by this hour. She started to worry.
Saying goodnight to each other every night had somehow become a habit, an unspoken ritual. Before falling asleep, she needed to hear his voice.
It had turned into a kind of attachment she couldn't quite put into words.
She turned off the light, slipped under the covers, and lay flat on her back. She tossed and turned, eyes closed, but no matter how much time passed, sleep wouldn't come.
Her mind kept replaying what had happened that afternoon… and the things Ned had said to her…
At 3 a.m., Archibald dragged a thoroughly intoxicated Ned, who could barely walk straight, out of the KTV.
The two congressmen had already been taken care of; they were staying in suites at the five-star hotel attached to the KTV.
Ned looked like he was on the verge of passing out. He slumped over the hood of a white sedan parked on the roadside, dry-heaving toward the ground.
Archibald stood behind him, watching.
"Ned!" He walked over. "What the hell were you doing drinking so much tonight? We didn't need to get wasted in a scene like this. The two of us could've just put on an act and let those guys drink themselves under the table."
Ned glanced at him, then with effort turned and leaned against the car. "You drive. Take me home," he said to Archibald.
Archibald glared at him for a long time, then angrily ruffled his own hair. "Fine, you're drunk. I'll let you have this one. I'll drive you back. I seriously don't get you!"
As he spoke, he supported Ned, half-carrying him into the car and driving straight to his house. It was the dead of night; everyone in the villa was asleep. There wasn't even a single person around to help haul him upstairs.
Archibald struggled to get him up the stairs and finally dumped him onto the bed before leaving in a huff.
Ned collapsed on the bed, eyes closed, the whole world spinning violently around him… Truth be told, he wasn't actually that drunk; two bottles of whiskey weren't really enough to knock him out. But because he'd downed them too fast, too desperately, and because his mood was foul, the discomfort was amplified.
He'd wanted to drown his sorrows, to stop thinking about everything that was about to happen, so he'd poured liquor down his throat like a madman. Yet no matter how much he drank, he couldn't get properly drunk. He couldn't even make himself fall asleep…
Bzzz—bzzz—
His phone suddenly vibrated. It took him forever to realize it was underneath him.
"Hello?" Still lying on the bed with his eyes closed, he answered.
"Are you just getting home now?" As soon as Ned picked up, Sophie finally felt relieved.
Hearing Sophie's voice, Ned slowly opened his eyes. "Mm." He paused for a long moment before answering.
He laboriously lifted his left hand and saw the watch hands pointing to 3:30.
"Why aren't you asleep yet?" He closed his eyes again, his lazy tone thick with a nasal hum from the alcohol.
"I was worried. You said you were entertaining congressmen, so I knew it would be late… but I didn't expect it to be this late."
"Worried about what?"
"You never picked up. I couldn't fall asleep."
He let out a low chuckle. "Miss me?"
Sophie answered seriously, "Calling you at eleven every night and hearing your voice has become a habit."
He took a deep breath in, then slowly exhaled.
"Did you drink a lot tonight?"
"Quite a bit, but not enough to kill me." His speech was still perfectly clear, just heavily nasal.
"Do you always drink like this when you're out entertaining?"
"It's part of the job. Normal social necessity."
She asked, he answered. Suddenly Sophie couldn't think of anything else to say.
"Then you should rest. I'll hang up," she said, feeling he must be exhausted.
"Wait." He opened his eyes. "Did you forget to say something?"
"What did I forget?"
"You forgot to say you love me."
Sophie held her breath. "There you go again. Saying it out of nowhere like that is weird."
He lay on the bed, smiling unconsciously. "We're a couple. It's perfectly normal for couples to say 'I love you.' Doesn't matter the occasion."
She fell silent.
"And we're about to hang up. This is exactly the moment when people say 'I love you' to each other. It shows the relationship is strong!" Ned explained with flawless logic. "Why aren't you saying anything?"
"I can't say it out loud."
"Then I'll go first." He paused, then murmured in a low, tender voice, "Sophie, I love you."
She couldn't help smiling and had to cover her mouth with her hand. Thankfully Ned couldn't see her on the other side of the call.
"There, your turn! Say it!" he urged.
"It's so embarrassing, I really can't get the words out." Sophie's cheeks flushed crimson.
"Just say it the way I did. Tell me: 'Ned, I love you!'"
"Ugh, no, that would be even weirder."
"If you don't say it, I won't be able to sleep tonight. I'll drive straight to your apartment right now and pester you until you do." Riding the wave of alcohol, Ned turned shamelessly clingy.
"You wouldn't dare! Nobody blackmails someone into saying it."
"So are you going to say it or not? Say you love me—come on!" he ordered.
She pressed her lips tightly together.
"Hurry up!" he prodded again.
Sophie felt painfully awkward, but she was genuinely afraid he'd actually show up drunk at her little apartment. She really couldn't win against him. "Mmph… I… I love you! Happy now?"
"It's 'I love you, Ned!' You didn't say my name," he nitpicked.
"I… I love you, Ned!" Finally worn down by his relentless teasing, Sophie pulled the blanket over her head and whispered it out, shy and flustered.
"Received loud and clear. You can hang up now! Let's both get some good sleep. See you tomorrow at C&C." Ned sounded utterly satisfied.
"Good night."
"Good night."
She ended the call.
Ned lay on the bed, phone still clutched in his hand. The heavy fog of alcohol had completely lifted.