Dai Lijun thought his idea was brilliant; he grinned with such delight and smugness, “Am I smart or what?”

Wang Qiqi and the others looked at the utterly shameless man who was clearly fishing for praise. They could only give him a thumbs-up, signaling how impressive—and utterly brazen—his move was. However, the Dai family relatives pondered: they had watched him grow up; if he became a US citizen, would he no longer be their junior? The Lu family relatives wondered: regardless of whether he was a foreigner, if he married a Lu girl, wouldn't he still be the Lu family's son-in-law, bound by Lu family rules? Wang Qiqi just hoped the man wouldn't regret this later.

Lu Qiaowei watched her husband’s smug expression, then glanced at Wang Qiqi and the others struggling to suppress their laughter. Although she needed to save her husband face in public, she couldn't let his 'episode' go unchecked. She reached down and fiercely pinched a section of flesh on Dai Lijun’s thigh, signaling the blockhead to watch himself.

Dai Lijun hadn't expected a sharp pain, radiating in waves, coming from his thigh. Just as he was about to cry out, he caught sight of his wife’s smile—a smile that sent a chill down his spine. He immediately swallowed the sound; he absolutely could not make a noise right now.

Dai Lijun knew that if he made a sound, the evening in bed would be miserable, perhaps disastrously so, and his wife might give him a week of back problems. “I was just saying, let’s eat, eat more vegetables.” Although Dai Lijun still wasn't sure exactly what he had done wrong, the fact that his wife had physically acted against him, coupled with Han Tao’s slightly awkward smile, told his instincts that admitting fault immediately was the correct course of action.

Seeing Dai Lijun swiftly change the subject, everyone dropped the topic. Moreover, although the man’s face had remained composed earlier, a careful observer would have noticed a flicker of intense pain crossing his expression—everyone knew Lu Qiaowei must have struck.

“Serves him right, looking so smug,” thought Wang Qiqi and Shi Man simultaneously.

Han Tao figured Lu Qiaowei had given the blockhead a good squeeze on the thigh. Though the pinch hadn't landed on his own leg, Han Tao knew the sensation well. Several times, when it was inappropriate to speak up in front of others, he’d resorted to subtle maneuvers under the table. But the blockhead's expression management was truly lacking. Han Tao was confident that even if Qiqi squeezed his thigh now, his expression wouldn't betray a single thing.

Juliana kept her head down, discussing matters with Wang Qiqi. Regarding the blockhead’s suffering, she regretted that, as someone who had never been in a relationship, she had no relevant opinion to offer.

Dai Lijun watched the atmosphere at the dinner table warm up again. While others ate or chatted, he shot Lu Qiaowei a look heavy with complaint. My wife is too ruthless, he thought. How much force did that take? Although he couldn't see his leg through his trousers, Dai Lijun knew his thigh must be bruised black and blue, the ache still throbbing faintly.

Lu Qiaowei ignored his aggrieved glare, fully engaged in an animated discussion with Shi Man. Though only a sophomore, Lu Qiaowei had started memorizing TOEFL vocabulary because she knew she would eventually study abroad. She wasn't as diligent as Shi Man, but she felt that if she truly decided to drop out and attend school in the States, some matters needed to be accelerated. Whether or not to withdraw, however, Lu Qiaowei felt she needed to seriously reconsider after going home, and also consult her parents.

Perhaps feeling a touch of guilt for being too rough earlier, or perhaps moved by the sheer intensity of his mournful gaze, Lu Qiaowei finally turned and whispered a few words into Dai Lijun’s ear. No one knew what she said, but judging by Dai Lijun’s swift transition from a wronged, cuckolded look to sheer happiness—even pulling Han Tao over for a drinking challenge—it was clear the woman must have offered some kind of sweet concession or perhaps a territorial settlement. Otherwise, why the rapid change?

Shi Man raised her wine glass toward Lu Qiaowei. “You can’t spoil a man too much; when discipline is needed, it must be administered.” She then addressed Dai Lijun: “I notice the four of us ladies are drinking red wine, but you two gentlemen are sticking to tea. Is there an issue here?”

“Exactly,” Wang Qiqi chimed in. While chatting with Juliana, she had been continuously clinking glasses, pouring, and drinking, and her face was beginning to flush. In high spirits, she spoke without much restraint. “If liquor is out, why not red wine? This is a happy occasion, and the blockhead brought us so many gifts. Let’s have some red wine.”

Han Tao knew his woman became much more unrestrained after a glass of red wine, but he hadn't expected Qiqi to be this heavy tonight. Then he noticed the empty red wine bottle near Juliana’s spot, and the second bottle was already open. “Nana, you’re drinking too? How are we getting home?” Heaven help him; he was the designated driver. Juliana, the driver, was explicitly forbidden from drinking! And before, she had been drinking tea just like him—how...?

“We’ll take a cab,” Juliana tossed a flirtatious glance at Han Tao, then raised her glass to toast Wang Qiqi. “Your Han Tao is such a missionary, so stuffy. Sigh.”

“Right, we’ll take a cab. And you two, don't you dare work tonight. Honestly, isn't staring at a computer all day enough? Do you two really need to pull all-nighters too?” Wang Qiqi finished her sentence by downing the rest of her glass, the speed of which made Han Tao suck in his breath.

Alas, alcohol wasn't inherently evil; a little now and then was fine, even good for the body. But too much was definitely not a good thing. Han Tao knew that once Qiqi crossed a certain threshold when drinking, she became incredibly bold, both in conversation and in… other matters. Remembering the profound shock he’d experienced on several nights when Wang Qiqi had been thoroughly intoxicated, Han Tao decided silence was the better part of valor. He just needed to keep a slight eye on her, making sure she didn't overdo it—say, to the point of vomiting. “Fine, fine, we’ll take a cab. I won’t work tonight.”

Dai Lijun had actually been wondering how to tell Han Tao he couldn't work late tonight if Han Tao insisted on working. He was surprised when Han Tao poured himself a glass of red wine. “Taozi, aren’t we supposed to be working tonight?” Although Dai Lijun wanted to sound firm, trying to lecture Han Tao about neglecting official business just because of a few words from the women, the blockhead’s own footing wasn't secure, and his voice trailed off meekly.

Han Tao watched him with amusement, swirling his glass. “Work? I thought your Weiwei...” He leaned in and whispered near Dai Lijun’s ear, “I thought she’d be giving you a surprise tonight.” Hmph, little fellow, don't think I didn't notice that smug, expectant look mixed with triumph. They were all men; how could they not understand certain aspirations? “My tolerance isn’t great, but this little bit of red wine is acceptable. After this, I’m stopping, and we can continue working tonight.”

“Mmm, mmm,” Dai Lijun remained silent in the face of Han Tao’s counterattack. After a pause, he chuckled a few times and raised his glass. “Brother, some things don't need to be stated so plainly. Come on, drink, drink. We can work late.” Sigh. Although he wanted to provoke the other man, just looking at the fervent heat in the other man's eyes when he glanced at Wang Qiqi confirmed that he was currently calculating how the evening should unfold. Suddenly, he remembered that a little alcohol might actually aid in certain activities. “Weiwei, you should have some red wine too. Isn't Qiqi saying red wine is good for your health?”

Lu Qiaowei was deep in discussion with Shi Man. To her husband's suggestion, she merely turned her head and replied, “I don’t care much for red wine, but I’ll drink baijiu [white liquor], if you’re willing to join me.”

Drink baijiu? Dai Lijun’s face instantly paled at his wife’s words. “Never mind, never mind, let’s not drink it then.” Sigh. Bringing up baijiu was the worst thing; it dredged up some deeply unpleasant memories. “Let’s stick to red wine. Let her have juice.” Although his wife was incredibly seductive that one time, before he could enjoy the seduction, the blockhead felt incapable of dealing with a woman going wild with alcohol. It wasn’t that she became a physical fighter; Lu Qiaowei would start singing non-stop, treating their home like a KTV lounge. Singing was fine; his girlfriend sang well enough. But switching from English songs to Mandarin songs to Cantonese songs was bad enough—the truly awful part was when she started singing opera: Peking Opera, Huangmei Opera, Bangzi Opera—all of it. After singing non-stop for over an hour, she would collapse into sleep. When she finally woke up, she was indeed very alluring, but the thought of enduring over an hour of that vocal torture extinguished every single one of Dai Lijun’s desires.

Han Tao watched the blockhead’s expression cycle from surprise to horror, then back to calm. He was curious: did Lu Qiaowei have bad taste when drunk? That was certainly possible; many people who looked reserved normally transformed completely once intoxicated. But why did Dai Lijun give him the impression that he felt both anticipation and overwhelming dread—or even fear—about his wife’s drunken state? Sigh. Never mind. “Let’s just have a little drink,” Han Tao conceded. His peripheral vision warned him that Qiqi was drinking heavily tonight, chatting quite intimately with Juliana—they were already on the third bottle. He worried if his wife might evolve into a true drinking champion. However, he noted his wife had only consumed about forty percent; Juliana had drunk the other sixty. Juliana had started participating in social drinking lately, and her capacity had improved by leaps and bounds. Han Tao really disliked this development.

Han Tao could tolerate his woman being slightly assertive or highly capable, but he detested her attending social functions. Even if nothing untoward actually happened, the perception itself made him deeply uncomfortable.