Chapter 78: Love Poem

In the end, Yang Yi taught them a lesson.

Three grown men plus Zhang Zhang Ningning were all drunk under the table by Yang Yi. Feng Liancheng had crawled entirely under the table; Wei Chang'an's face turned red from drinking, his whole body as red as a boiled shrimp; Chen Chen Yushu simply vomited all over the floor.

Only Zhang Zhang Ningning, whom Yang Yi treated with some pity for her fragility, hadn't been pressured much to drink; she could still stand, though her eyes were hazy and she couldn't walk in a straight line.

Actually, halfway through the drinking, Yang Yi had noticed that her tolerance for alcohol seemed higher than before.

In the past, she had drunk alone on countless gloomy nights, hoping to use the alcohol to help her sleep well, so she felt her capacity was quite good; but she had never drunk with others, so she didn't know her actual limit.

This time, halfway through, seeing all four with hazy eyes while she still felt nothing, she thought perhaps her tolerance was just good. After the three stubborn men forced down several more bottles of high-proof baijiu, apart from the bad taste, she still felt absolutely nothing; only then did she realize something was wrong.

Her body seemed to have no reaction to alcohol at all.

The air conditioning was set very cold; the private room was filled with the spicy scent of Hunan cuisine, the grain-fermented and alcoholic smell unique to baijiu, and the sour stench of Chen Chen Yushu's vomit.

Yang Yi looked at the three men collapsed on the floor, muttering nonsense, and at Zhang Zhang Ningning, whose eyes were glazed and who was just giggling; a sudden wave of sorrow rose in her heart—she, who could only feed on intelligent life, had ultimately become alienated from spirit to body.

She thought of her completely twisted and deformed body in Mist City—if a human body were twisted into such a shape, could it still survive?

But she not only survived, she had even restored herself to her original state; like molding clay, she had slowly returned her internal organs to their places, reshaped her limbs, and re-carved her facial features. At that time, she had vaguely sensed some change in her body, but she deliberately chose not to think about it—as if not thinking meant not worrying.

But some things, even if not thought about, would remind her constantly, even in the small details of daily life, that she was completely different from ordinary humans.

Might as well try drinking some poison, she thought coldly, to see exactly how far this body had been alienated.

It was right; what difference is there between you now and a monster?

Isn't this good? Countless people pursue an indestructible, poison-proof body in vain, yet you have obtained it so easily. She sneered at herself.

Yet the surroundings were extremely cold; goosebumps did not rise on her skin, but rather a chill penetrated from the inside out.

Finally, a question that had long worried her rose clearly and brightly to the surface of her mind: What exactly would she become?

"Ugh—" A sound of vomiting pulled her from her thoughts; Chen Chen Yushu was vomiting again. "... Yang Yi... I'm not convinced... not convinced. My talent can't compare to yours... even my drinking can't compare to yours... let's drink more! Ugh—"

Yang Yi sighed; seeing he was about to fall headfirst into the vomit, she used her telekinesis to hold him up.

Think of the good things, like when you were reshaping your facial features and figure, you even thought about making your breasts bigger, your butt perkier, and your face prettier—from that perspective, you still have a human heart! she thought, trying to find joy in bitterness.

She paid the bill, then used her telekinesis to drag the four of them back to the Awakened Management Bureau; other Awakened ones happened to be at the entrance and took the three drunk men back to their dorms. Only Zhang Zhang Ningning, who had arrived on her first day and hadn't been assigned a dorm yet, was dragged by Yang Yi back to Yang Yi's own dorm.

Sitting on the sofa, Zhang Zhang Ningning looked around the unfamiliar place with hazy eyes; her body kept sliding down until she gradually lay flat.

"Ah—I never expected that the fellow fan I met last time would be the number one Awakened one, and moreover, I'm currently in her dorm!" Zhang Zhang Ningning murmured to herself, looking at her.

Yang Yi couldn't help but smile; she recalled their first meeting. She had wanted to get to know this fellow fan, though she had been in a hurry to leave after saving Chris and hadn't been able to. Now it was just right to continue.

Yang Yi went to the kitchen to boil water for her; just as she came out holding the cup, she heard Zhang Zhang Ningning suddenly say, "Chris is in love? Do you know?"

Yang Yi paused in her steps and placed the cup on the coffee table.

"How do you know?" Yang Yi asked.

"Hey! I'm not a fool!" Zhang Zhang Ningning said with a proud expression. "Facing their idol, every fan is a detective! Our veteran fan group is all guessing he might be in love recently! Some group members don't want to believe it, others are investigating who it is!" She said dejectedly, "And I feel he's fallen very deep this time, completely different from his usual style!"

"How is it different?" Yang Yi became curious.

"You, as his fan, didn't notice?" Zhang Zhang Ningning widened her eyes in surprise; after a moment, she suddenly realized, "Oh, you've been too busy recently and had no time to follow his blog and news, right!"

"What? Is his relationship already common knowledge?" Yang Yi was greatly shocked.

"No, no!" Zhang Zhang Ningning quickly said. "Didn't I say veteran fans are little detectives? We deduced it from his clues!"

Zhang Zhang Ningning took out her phone, searched her favorites for a few news items, and showed them to her: "Look, this paparazzi photo!"

Yang Yi sat over and looked; it was an entertainment gossip item, clearly taken by a paparazzo hiding in a car. Chris was walking his dog alone on the lawn, holding a phone and looking at something, his smile on his face looking a bit silly.

"This doesn't mean much..." Yang Yi said.

"How doesn't it mean much? Can't you see? He's smiling silly at his phone alone! And within the thirty minutes of walking the dog, he took out his phone and looked at it six times! Six whole times!" Zhang Zhang Ningning emphasized.

Yang Yi swallowed, forcing herself to say, "Maybe he was joking with a friend? Reading a novel or watching a show? Anything is possible; this proves nothing..."

"Yes, this proves nothing." Zhang Zhang Ningning didn't contradict her. "But add other behaviors and it proves everything." She opened her personal blog app again, scrolling to a post from about a week ago; he was sitting in the driver's seat, holding a pink torch-shaped ice cream in his right hand.

"Look, a pink torch-shaped ice cream!" Zhang Zhang Ningning emphasized. "Strawberry flavor! Such a girly color! Would he randomly buy this on his own? He's a straight man!"

"This proves nothing either? Maybe he wanted to try..." Yang Yi shrugged; she stopped halfway through her sentence, suddenly remembering she had once sent him a picture of herself eating a strawberry torch ice cream, and swallowed the rest of her words.

"Maybe some of these are a bit far-fetched, but what about these?" Zhang Zhang Ningning flipped to his playlist on his personal blog. "Look, recently he's only been listening to sorrowful love songs! His favorite used to be rock music!"

Yang Yi fell silent.

"And this! He was up past two in the morning, not sleeping, and even saved a love poem!" Zhang Zhang Ningning flipped to that page to show her.

The time was two days ago, 2:08 AM Arkadian time; he had saved a poem by the Hungarian poet Petofi:

My love will not be like a nightingale,

Waking at dawn,

On the earth under the sun,

Singing beautifully.

My love will not be like a lovely grove,

White doves floating on a calm lake,

Thinking of the moonlight in the water,

Tilting its snowy neck.

My love will not be a peaceful home,

Like a garden, quiet and calm,

Inside is happiness, as if a mother lives there,

Where fairies are born, beautiful and joyful.

My love can only be a desolate forest,

Full of jealousy, like a bandit,

Holding a sword, it is despair,

Every strike will bring death.