Mo Fei was still staring at the black card in his hand when a familiar voice cut through the quiet.
"Feifei!"
Before Mo Fei could react, an arm hooked around his neck from behind and pulled him backward.
Mo Fei nearly dropped the card. "Sima Li!"
Sima Li leaned over his shoulder curiously, but Mo Fei quickly slipped the card into his pocket before he could see it properly.
"Why are you everywhere?" Mo Fei asked.
"Because I'm famous," Sima Li answered confidently. "And because you disappeared. I turned around for one second and you were gone. Do you know how hard it is to find someone in a room full of shiny people pretending not to gossip?"
Mo Fei looked at him. "You were the one who dragged me around first."
"And I'll do it again."
Sima Li tightened his arm around Mo Fei's shoulders and began pulling him away from the balcony. "Come on. You're not hiding here all night."
"I wasn't hiding."
"You were standing alone near the balcony with wine," Sima Li said. "That is either hiding or the beginning of a villain arc."
Mo Fei paused. "Do I look like a villain?"
Sima Li looked him over seriously. "With the right lighting? Absolutely."
Mo Fei laughed despite himself.
Sima Li grinned, satisfied, and dragged him back toward the centre of the gala hall.
The moment they returned, several heads turned again. Mo Fei felt the shift immediately. Some gazes were curious. Some admiring. Some assessing.
A few were sharp enough to cut skin.
Sima Li grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter and handed one to Mo Fei.
"Drink," he said.
Mo Fei accepted it. "Are you trying to get me drunk?"
"I'm trying to make you look relaxed. There's a difference."
"That sounds like something a bad influence would say."
Sima Li gasped in horror. "I am a national treasure. Mind your tone."
Mo Fei nearly choked on his drink. Sima Li laughed and clinked his glass against Mo Fei's.
They both drank.
Soon, Sima Li pulled him toward another group of guests. There were two actors, a fashion editor, a jewellery brand representative, and a young director Mo Fei vaguely recognised but could not name to save his life.
"Sima Li," one of the actors greeted warmly. "You abandoned the red carpet midway. Again."
"I didn't abandon it," Sima Li said with a shameless smile. "I improved it."
The actor laughed, then looked at Mo Fei.
"And you must be Mo Fei."
Mo Fei smiled politely and bowed slightly.
"It's a pleasure to meet you."
"The pleasure is mine," the actor replied. "Your walk at Zhen's show was impressive."
"Thank you," Mo Fei said. "I'm glad it didn't look like I was fighting for my life."
Sima Li turned to him. "You weren't?"
Mo Fei smiled sweetly. "Be quiet."
The group laughed.
The fashion editor lifted his glass slightly. "Your entrance through the audience was bold. Risky, but bold."
Mo Fei took a small sip of champagne before answering.
"I think that was Zhen's intention. If the theme was resurrection, then entering from the audience made sense. It felt less like returning to a stage…"
He paused briefly, gaze lowering to the drink in his hand.
"And more like returning through the people who had already judged the fall."
The editor paused, his expression changed with interest.
"That's a good way to put it."
Sima Li gave Mo Fei a proud look, as if silently saying, See? Look at you talking like someone with sense.
Mo Fei pretended not to see it.
The jewellery representative smiled. "Your black suit also made quite an impression. Very severe and elegant."
Mo Fei's lips curved. "I suffered under stylists for hours to look that good. I'm glad the suffering was useful."
Again, the group laughed.
Bit by bit, the stiffness around him loosened.
Mo Fei was not the most experienced person in the room. He knew that. He was still stepping carefully, measuring his words, and learning when to smile and when to remain silent.
But he was not drowning. That alone felt like victory.
Across the room, beside Yichen, Su Feiyu watched. Her smile remained soft, but her fingers tightened around her glass.
"Sima Li seems very close to him," she said lightly. "Aren't you jealous?"
Yichen did not answer, he just stared ahead.
Su Feiyu's smile deepened by a fraction.
"I didn't know Mo Fei had so many friends in high places."
Yichen finally looked away. "Neither did I."
The party continued late into the night.
Mo Fei drank, toasted, smiled, bowed, and exchanged greetings with nearly everyone Sima Li introduced him to. By the time he finally managed to slip away, he was tipsy and ready to leave.
If he stayed one moment longer, that popular freak would drown him in alcohol, and Mo Fei did not trust himself around it.
After excusing himself from Sima Li, Mo Fei walked out of the building and headed downstairs.
His steps were not exactly steady. He used the wall for support as he made his way outside, the cool night air brushing against his flushed face.
When he finally reached the entrance, he pulled out his phone to call Louis.
Wasn't Louis supposed to be here already?
He dialled the number.
It rang for a few seconds. Then hung up. Mo Fei stared at his phone.
What was Louis doing?
He sighed and sat down on the staircase, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of the entire night settle over him.
Tonight had drained him.
But it had also been fun.
Thanks to Sima Li, who had stood with him through most of it. Even though the night had almost been ruined by that old geezer, Tang Wei had appeared and thrown the man out like he was yesterday's trash.
Speaking of which...
Who exactly was Tang Wei?
Mo Fei's cheeks flushed.
He slapped both palms against his face, trying to wake himself up. He was drunk.
Where the hell was Louis?
He dialled Louis' number again.
Same thing. No answer.
Mo Fei lowered his head to his knees.
"Louis, you fucker…" he groaned. "Come pick me up."
At that moment, Mo Fei heard footsteps.
He raised his head curiously. Someone was approaching from behind.
Was it Sima Li?
No.
Absolutely not. He had barely escaped that gathering alive. If Sima Li found him again, he would be dragged back inside and drowned in another round of champagne.
Mo Fei turned and his body stilled.
Zhang Yichen stood a few steps away, staring back at him.
Mo Fei sat on the staircase, flushed, tired, and slightly dazed from alcohol, looking up at him like he had just seen an unexpected ghost in expensive shoes.
For a moment, neither of them said anything.
Mo Fei blinked.
What was he doing here? His brows pulled together in a faint frown.
Yichen looked at him calmly. His gaze moved over Mo Fei's flushed cheeks, the loose posture, the phone in his hand, and the way he was sitting alone outside like an abandoned cat in designer clothing.
Without saying a word, he continued walking down the stairs. He clearly had no intention of getting involved. Just as he was about to pass him, something grabbed his trouser leg.
Yichen slowly, looked down.
Mo Fei had caught the fabric of his trousers with one hand. His face was red, his eyes slightly unfocused, and he was staring up at Yichen with a pair of pitiful puppy eyes that had no business existing on someone so troublesome.
Mo Fei tightened his grip slightly. Then, with complete seriousness and alcohol confidence.
"Take me home with you"
The night breeze passed between them as Mo Fei held onto his trouser leg.
"Please," he added, blinking up at him.