Chapter Seven: The Night Banquet

Wang Min and Guo Bin felt a mix of disappointment and jealousy over Zhang Wei closing the deal, but since they could enjoy a lavish meal without spending a dime, neither of them intended to refuse. In fact, they secretly resolved to order the most expensive food and drinks at the table, determined to at least make Zhang Wei feel the pinch, even if they couldn't bankrupt him.

Though Zhang Wei could see through people’s thoughts with his mind-reading ability, he hadn’t picked up on their little schemes this time. Even if he had, he wouldn’t have minded—after all, how much could this dinner really cost? At most, a few hundred yuan, which was nothing compared to the thirty thousand he’d just earned from the deal.

Because Zhang Wei was treating everyone that night, Xu Ming, the store manager, specially approved leaving work an hour early. There was no evening meeting; after clocking out and locking up, the group hailed a cab straight to the restaurant.

Yulin Restaurant wasn’t considered a top establishment in the capital, but it was known for its reasonable prices and delicious dishes—a favorite among those seeking value for money. Whenever someone from Zhongtong’s branch treated for dinner, they’d typically book a table here, and tonight was no exception.

The lobby manager at Yulin was an old acquaintance of Xu Ming’s, so he personally led the group of six to a private room. The space was quiet, furnished with a large round table for eight, and the air conditioning kept it refreshingly cool.

As regulars, they were well looked after. The lobby manager placed a menu before Xu Ming and asked, “Manager Xu, what would you like to drink this evening? We have some excellent Wuliangye—should I bring two bottles?”

“Sure, bring two!” Guo Bin’s eyes lit up at the mention of Wuliangye. “I’ve been wanting to try it. They say it’s even more aromatic than Moutai, right?”

“That’s enough, Old Zhao. Don’t bother with your sales pitch. If I wanted Wuliangye, I wouldn’t buy it here—no need to take me for a fool.” Xu Ming waved him off. As a real estate manager frequently entertaining clients, he was well-versed in such tricks. The price of one bottle of Wuliangye at a restaurant could buy two in a store—hardly worth the expense.

“Fair enough, I suppose I’ve been making a fool of myself in front of a master,” the lobby manager, Old Zhao, replied with a good-natured laugh, showing no sign of annoyance.

“How about this—everyone orders a dish, and let’s get a crate of beer. Sound good?” Xu Ming picked up the menu, seeing that no one else was eager to make the first move.

“Great! And a bottle of orange juice for me—I don’t drink,” Li Lin said as she rinsed her cup with tea.

Everyone nodded in agreement, each ordering their favorite dish. When it came to Zhang Wei, he ordered three in a row. Others might have been too embarrassed to order more, but as the host, he had to ensure the table was well-laden, or else he’d risk being criticized behind his back.

The drinks and dishes arrived quickly. As the host, Zhang Wei raised his glass first, toasting Xu Ming, who, in turn, accepted every toast he received, making everyone feel welcome.

Xu Ming, a seasoned veteran of the real estate business, had developed a cast-iron stomach over the years. A few bottles of beer never fazed him—he simply made a couple more trips to the restroom, but showed no sign of drunkenness. He was truly an old hand, leaving the younger ones like Zhang Wei in awe.

After several rounds of drinks and dishes, Wang Min clapped her hands and proposed, “Just drinking isn’t much fun. Why don’t we play a riddle game? If you get it right, you’re safe. If you get it wrong, you drink. What do you think?”

“Good idea, Wang Jie. I’m in,” Guo Bin replied, giving Zhang Wei a meaningful glance.

Zhang Wei met Guo Bin’s gaze, a glint flashing in his eyes. In Guo Bin’s mind, a line of golden text appeared: “Zhang Wei, don’t think you’re anything special just because you got lucky and closed a deal. Tonight, Wang Min and I will drink you under the table and embarrass you in front of everyone.”

Zhang Wei saw right through their little plot, but he didn’t expose them. With his mind-reading ability, he was confident he wouldn’t lose at riddles, so there was nothing to fear.

“I’m in too,” Xu Ming said with a smile. He loved drinking and wasn’t afraid of overindulging—if anything, he feared he wouldn’t get to drink enough.

“Zhang Wei, you’re the main character tonight. You can’t sit this out. Besides, even Xu is playing—if not for me, at least do it for him,” Wang Min coaxed.

“All right, count me in,” Zhang Wei replied readily. Since the two were intent on getting him drunk, he was happy to turn their scheme against them.

Li Lin and Wang Jianfa both declined, as neither could handle alcohol, and no one forced them.

Seeing Zhang Wei agree, Guo Bin was delighted. He left the room and returned with a fresh crate of beer, slamming it onto the table. “Tonight, we drink till we drop—let’s see who gives up first!”

“Right, whoever loses but doesn’t drink is a coward,” Wang Min said, casting a challenging look at Zhang Wei. “I’ll start with the first riddle.”

“What kind of chicken, when beaten, won’t crow but gets angry instead?” There was a mischievous glint in Wang Min’s eyes.

“I know! A roast turkey—like the ones they eat at Halloween,” Guo Bin blurted out.

“Nope,” Wang Min shook her head and turned to Zhang Wei.

At first, Zhang Wei thought it was a roast turkey too, but when Guo Bin’s answer was rejected, he realized it must be something else. He was about to use his mind-reading trick on Wang Min when he noticed Xu raising his lighter. Instantly, he understood and said, “A lighter, right?”

“I think it’s a lighter too,” Xu said, lighting a cigarette.

“That’s right, Xu, you got it—it’s a lighter,” Wang Min confirmed, casting a glare at Guo Bin. “What an idiot,” she thought. “We agreed to get Zhang Wei drunk, and yet the only one who didn’t guess it was Guo Bin. Useless.”

It wasn’t a difficult riddle; most smokers would have guessed it. Zhang Wei and Guo Bin didn’t smoke, but Xu did, so he got it first.

“All right, my turn,” Guo Bin said, draining his beer and taking a bite of food. “A bunch of women chatting together—guess the idiom.”

“Seven mouths, eight tongues,” Wang Min offered.

“Everyone talking at once,” Xu Ming guessed.

“No, no…” Guo Bin wagged his finger at them smugly. “What about you, Zhang Wei?”

“This one’s tough—give me a moment to think,” Zhang Wei said, furrowing his brow and pretending to ponder, though he’d already read the answer from Guo Bin’s mind. He just wanted to keep him in suspense.

“I knew you wouldn’t get it! How about a bet? If you guess the answer, I’ll drink three glasses. If not, you drink three. Deal?” Guo Bin said, thumping his chest, confident that no one else could possibly guess his riddle.

“We’re here to have a good time, no need to drink so much,” Zhang Wei replied, feigning lack of confidence.

“Come on, Zhang Wei, are you backing down? Afraid of a few beers?” Guo Bin pressed, using reverse psychology.

“That’s right! If you’re a man, take the bet,” Wang Min joined in.

“Fine, since you insist, I’ll take the bet,” Zhang Wei agreed, as if stung by their taunts.

The others—Li Lin, Wang Jianfa, and Xu Ming—watched curiously. If Zhang Wei got it wrong, he’d have to drink three glasses at once; even if it was just beer, that was no small feat.

“A bunch of women chatting together?” Zhang Wei furrowed his brow, pretending to think deeply.

“Come on, Zhang Wei, can’t guess it? Just take your penalty drink!” Guo Bin said, certain of victory.

“My guess is ‘groundless talk,’” Zhang Wei replied.

Xu Ming, who had just sipped his tea, nearly spat it out in laughter when he heard Zhang Wei’s answer, spraying Guo Bin in the face. “Groundless talk—now that’s a clever answer, with depth!”

“Depth? Groundless talk? Men—all the same,” Li Lin blushed, exclaiming.

“This is a good one; I’ll have to share it with my wife,” Wang Jianfa chuckled.

“What a fool Guo Bin is—he’s just set himself up. Now he has to drink three beers in one go—he’ll be under the table before Zhang Wei,” Wang Min fumed inwardly. She was starting to regret teaming up with him; it was true what they said: the only thing more dangerous than a strong opponent was a foolish ally.

Guo Bin wiped his face, looking miserable. He hadn’t expected Zhang Wei to guess the answer, and with an explanation so clever that no one would doubt it. He was resigned to his fate.

“Fine, good beer,” Guo Bin muttered, downing three glasses in a row with a belch. “Let’s go again—I refuse to believe I can’t beat you.”

Wang Min also took a drink, her cheeks tinged with a rosy flush that made her look all the more charming. Zhang Wei couldn’t help but glance at her a little longer.