Chapter 48: Who Is the Best Actor

Soon, Director Zhang entered the VIP room, carrying two large bottles of grape wine and rice wine. Seeing this, Liu Xing stopped his conversation with Li Weiwei and, as if nothing had happened, began to tidy up the wrinkles on Guazi’s clothes.

“Xiao Liu! This rice wine and grape wine are my treasured collection. You can’t embarrass me—later you must drink with me!” Director Zhang, oblivious to the fact that in Liu Xing’s eyes he was nothing more than a clown putting on a show, made it clear: if Liu Xing didn’t drink his wine today, he wouldn’t be leaving this VIP room.

Liu Xing was no fool—he understood perfectly.

Just as he was about to find a way to decline, Wang Zhongyu appeared at the door, carrying dishes to accompany the wine. Behind him was the chubby security guard.

Liu Xing was surprised and quickly pulled the security guard to sit beside him. “Hey, brother! Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you for ages and couldn’t find you.”

“Heh, I was on duty. Of course you couldn’t find me,” the security guard replied with a silly grin.

“How about staying and drinking a few cups with me now?” Liu Xing asked.

“I’m on the clock!” The security guard’s eyes lit up at the mention of drinking, but seeing Director Zhang’s fierce gaze, he quickly changed his tune. “Director, there’s someone named Ma Lei at the door who wants to come in and find Liu Xing. Should I let him in or not?”

“Of course let him in. Tell him to come drink with me. It’s boring to drink alone,” Liu Xing said, glancing at Director Zhang, putting him on the spot. “Don’t you agree, Director Zhang?”

“Yes, yes!” Director Zhang replied with a forced smile. At a time like this, it wouldn’t do to offend Liu Xing’s mood; otherwise, things might get complicated. He could only endure for now.

“I’ll go let your friend in,” the security guard said and hurried out.

Watching him leave, Liu Xing picked up the bottle of rice wine and sniffed it, then twisted open the cap. “Director Zhang, didn’t you say we’d drink? Why are you still standing? Come, let’s sit and drink together. I’d like to have a good chat with you about the proper use of the membrane covering method!”

He knew well that rice wine’s alcohol content was usually only in the teens. Yet the bottle before him had a pungent smell of strong spirits—undoubtedly mixed with baijiu. The proof was likely alarmingly high; anyone unaccustomed to such liquor would surely be drunk after just one cup.

So Liu Xing was on his guard.

Not that he was afraid. While speaking with Director Zhang, he scooped a large bowl of soup with a ladle, and in front of everyone, cooled it down and drank it in big gulps. He drank soup because it helps neutralize alcohol. As long as he was careful, he knew he wouldn’t get drunk—at worst, he’d just need to visit the restroom a few times.

Director Zhang had no idea what Liu Xing was up to. Hearing mention of the membrane covering method, he became excited and quickly poured wine for Liu Xing, while for himself, he opened the grape wine and poured a glass.

Li Weiwei saw this and frowned. “Director, Brother Liu Xing never drinks, yet he’s drinking rice wine with you. Why are you sneaking the grape wine for yourself? Are you looking down on him, or trying to play tricks?”

“Exactly. What kind of man drinks grape wine?” Liu Xing said, downing the glass of wine Director Zhang had poured for himself, then filled it to the brim with rice wine. “I don’t care—if you’re not being fair, you get a penalty cup of rice wine.”

Director Zhang was inwardly frustrated by Liu Xing’s move. He’d wanted to refuse, but remembering Li Dawei’s instructions and his task to drink with Liu Xing, he could only pick up the cup and down the rice wine.

After just one drink, his head was spinning, but he could still manage—at least he was conscious.

Liu Xing noticed and quickly filled his glass again. When the bottle was nearly empty, he called over to Wang Zhongyu, “Old Wang, hurry and get more wine! One bottle of rice wine won’t be enough. My friend will be joining us soon too!”

“I’ll go get it now,” Wang Zhongyu replied, not at all aware of the undercurrents in the room. Seeing Director Zhang, who never drank, showing such interest, he hurried out, leaving Director Zhang no chance to stop him.

At that moment, the chubby security guard brought Ma Lei in.

He’d planned to leave immediately, but Liu Xing stopped him. “Aren’t we brothers? If we are, stay and drink with me. Don’t worry, I’ll talk to Factory Director Li myself.”

“This… this…” The security guard hesitated, looking at Director Zhang.

“If you want to drink, sit down—what’s the big deal?” Director Zhang, realizing he couldn’t go against Liu Xing’s wishes now, had to agree.

With permission, the security guard sat down, picked up the cup of rice wine in front of Liu Xing, and drank it in one gulp. “Brother, let me tell you, of all the wines at Hengshui Distillery, this rice wine…” Halfway through his sentence, he suddenly stopped.

He’d just realized that the rice wine in Liu Xing’s cup tasted off—at least half of it was strong baijiu, otherwise it wouldn’t burn so fiercely.

Just as he was about to take a closer look, Wang Zhongyu returned, carrying two bottles of rice wine in one hand and a large jug of baijiu in the other. “So many people drinking—just rice wine would be dull. This jug of baijiu is the distillery’s pride, aged over a decade. It’ll knock your socks off.”

“Then you have to drink with us,” Liu Xing said, pulling Wang Zhongyu to the table.

Wang Zhongyu was reluctant, but Director Zhang pressed him down: “Tonight’s a happy occasion, forget the rules. Let Xiao Liu enjoy himself.”

“Is that so?” Wang Zhongyu gave Liu Xing a peculiar look, then opened the baijiu jug. “Come, try this real qujiu—you couldn’t buy it outside, even if you had the money.”

“Alright!” Liu Xing nodded.

“Pour me a bowl too,” the security guard said, handing over his bowl.

Ma Lei, seeing the lively atmosphere, also picked up his bowl.

Only Li Weiwei looked at Liu Xing with a strange expression, but said nothing more. After all, as a girl, she didn’t understand the fun of drinking—and she didn’t drink herself. Guazi wasn’t drinking either; instead, she was busying herself with the peanuts on the table, occasionally sipping mushroom soup. Finally, she realized the mushrooms in the soup were the very shiitake that her brother had picked. The stew was simply delicious.

As the atmosphere warmed, Director Zhang, struggling to stay upright, asked Liu Xing, “Brother, there’s no one else here now. You should tell us about this membrane covering method. Don’t worry, your Uncle Li will be back soon with the money.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll tell you,” Liu Xing replied, deliberately feigning drunkenness, then explained the membrane covering method.

Naturally, his explanation was calculated. He deliberately skipped the crucial parts, while presenting the simple, obvious steps as if they were the most complex and advanced procedures.

At first, Director Zhang listened with interest, taking mental notes. But by the end, his enthusiasm faded—he realized that Liu Xing’s so-called membrane covering method was nothing special, just a new sealing technique that he hadn’t thought of before. All he needed to do was tell Old Yu, and the desired results would certainly be achieved.

Seeing that Liu Xing and Ma Lei had drunk themselves to sleep on the table, and even the security guard and Wang Zhongyu were babbling nonsense, not knowing who they were anymore—

Director Zhang smiled to himself, then, humming a folk tune, staggered out of the VIP room. He was already a little drunk himself, stumbling several times as he nearly fell.

Outside, Li Dawei and Old Yu hurried up to steady him.

Li Dawei asked quietly, “Well, did Liu Xing spill everything?”

“He told me everything. I thought his membrane covering method would be some high-tech thing, but it turns out it’s just a new sealing technique—very simple,” Director Zhang said with a drunken burp.

“Did Liu Xing say where he learned it?” Li Dawei asked, unable to hide his excitement.

Old Yu listened in, equally curious.

Director Zhang shook his head. “The kid can’t hold his liquor—he was out before we barely started. But I think I heard him say he saw it in a diary. Where the diary is, I don’t know.”

“I see. So Liu Xing is just a pretender, no real skills after all,” Li Dawei sighed in relief. If Liu Xing had any real talent, the way they’d treated him today might have meant trouble in the future.

“Oh please! A sixteen or seventeen-year-old cowherd—what real skills could he have? Old Li, you’re overthinking it. You know what they say: people speak the truth when drunk. He let slip everything he had tonight,” Director Zhang waved his hand dismissively. “I can say for certain, the kid’s just a smooth talker, nothing more.”

Clearly, these were the ramblings of a drunk.

But Li Dawei, delighted, believed it without question. After checking the time, he said, “Old Yu, get Director Zhang back to rest as soon as possible. Try to get a clear explanation of the process before he sobers up. Then gather all the repairmen in the factory—put all your effort into using the membrane covering method to repair the bottling equipment.”

“Alright!” Old Yu nodded repeatedly, supporting Director Zhang as they left.

Li Dawei let out a long sigh of relief, smiling as he walked toward the VIP room.

By now, Liu Xing’s snores could be heard outside, making Li Dawei both amused and exasperated. But his smile soon vanished, for Li Weiwei, having heard his footsteps, wheeled herself out of the room, glaring at him with anger in her eyes.

“Dad, can’t you use honest means to get what you want from Brother Liu Xing?” she asked quietly.

“He’s not your brother—just a poor cowherd,” Li Dawei replied with a bitter smile.

“Fine. I won’t argue with you. But you’ll regret this.” With great effort, Li Weiwei rolled her wheelchair toward the residential building.

Li Dawei was taken aback, quickly calling a security guard to help her, then reentered the VIP room.

He found everyone sprawled out on the table, fast asleep. Shaking his head, he left again, calling the driver to take Liu Xing, Guazi, and Ma Lei home.

As for the promised two thousand yuan, he’d already forgotten about it. Deep down, he didn’t think Liu Xing deserved such a reward.

Yet, for some reason, he felt that something wasn’t quite right—but for the life of him, he couldn’t think what.

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