Chapter 71: Turmoil at the Birthday Celebration (Part Two)

In most cases, those with better physical fitness tend to have a higher alcohol tolerance—a steadfast rule. Some seasoned drinkers might be able to outdrink robust individuals who rarely touch alcohol, but if those physically strong types start training, you'll discover that an iron body can handle oceans of liquor. The average person's physical attribute sits around 0.8; athletes and the like are about 1.3, which is the upper limit for ordinary people. Yet, within this 0.5 difference, drinking capacities can already be measured by the pound. As for Guo Lang and his companions, with attributes nearly twenty times greater than normal, their drinking feats were naturally astonishing.

A crowd watched, dumbfounded, as these two downed their drinks in a manner reminiscent of ancient legends. One must remember: in ancient times, before distillation was invented, alcohol content was much lower. Yet, they dared to drink like this—was this even possible in reality? They stared at the dozens of empty bottles of the national spirit, each holding about two pounds, and marveled at the sheer animalistic capacity of the two men.

Chen Kaimin and his group swallowed hard in a daze, suddenly feeling less embarrassed about having been defeated by just ten people earlier. Facing such monsters, their loss was understandable. Thankfully, their own party had a beast of this caliber as well. Speaking of which, no one really knew much about this Director Guo’s son, since he usually kept his distance from their circle. Who could have guessed he was so ruthless?

Xie Xiaoqin looked equally astonished. This defied common sense. She could understand her own brother Shaolin’s prowess, but how was this so-called “loser” her sister mentioned, also so formidable?

“Master Gong, at this rate, there doesn’t seem to be any point continuing,” Guo Lang said with a smile.

Gong Shaolin smiled in return, “You know as well as I do, for people like us, no matter how much we drink, it’s meaningless.”

Damn! Chen Kaimin and his crew scowled at this display of bravado. Fine, you two show off all you want, we’ll just eat. The group resigned themselves to their fate, picking up their chopsticks and focusing on their food, content to be spectators now.

“But there should be some conclusion…” Guo Lang grinned. “Leaving things like this would be awkward, wouldn’t it?”

A green glint flashed in Gong Shao’s eyes. “What do you propose, Brother Guo?”

“How about we have a cocktail?”

“A cocktail?” The crowd was puzzled. The Rainbirth Garden certainly had such things, with a professional bartender in the lounge. But after downing more than a dozen bottles of baijiu without issue, what difference would a cocktail make?

Ignoring their confusion, Guo Lang turned to Xie Lin. “Second Brother Xie, why don’t you show us something?”

Xie Lin, who had been observing quietly, was momentarily taken aback. A trace of something unreadable flashed in his eyes—did Guo Lang truly know his background? The more Xie Lin looked, the less he understood this man. But after a brief pause, he returned to his usual gentle demeanor and smiled warmly. “Alright.”

“Waiter, bring a cocktail set!”

Second Brother Xie can mix drinks? Everyone’s interest was piqued, including Xie Xiaoqin, who never knew her brother had this skill.

The tools arrived quickly: three shakers, two jiggers, and two glasses as requested. There are four basic mixing techniques—shaking, stirring, layering, and blending—but shaking is generally the most showy. Xie Lin unbuttoned his shirt cuffs and rolled up his sleeves slightly…

Xie Lin’s hands were remarkably elegant—delicate, long, and fair to the point that many women would be envious. Combined with his refined features and gentle temperament, everyone present suddenly felt a sense of inadequacy. The only woman, Xie Xiaoqin, blushed, thinking she’d never realized how stylish her brother could be. (The chubby little girl didn’t count as a woman.)

“Sir…” The waiter, who had been watching in a daze, was nudged by Guo Lang and blushed deeply. “Would you like vodka or rum?”

“Neither. The base is right here,” Xie Lin pointed at the three remaining bottles of the national spirit on the table. “Just bring me some mint and ice.”

“You’re…using the national spirit?” The crowd was stunned. They often drank cocktails, usually made with pure spirits like vodka. The national spirit, with its mellow taste and strong aroma, was too intense and not suited for cocktails.

Seeing the waiter still frozen, Guo Lang smiled, “Just do as he says.”

“Alright!” The waiter grinned apologetically and scurried off.

Soon, the mint and ice arrived, and Xie Lin began his preparations. The crowd held their breath, watching Second Brother Xie’s performance. His technique wasn’t flashy; there was little showmanship. Every move was refined and gentlemanly, almost British in style, and his concentration—especially when measuring out the liquids—was precise, giving an impression of strictness. Yet he moved swiftly, so much so that many found it hard to keep up.

Everyone wanted to see how he would use the national spirit. Xie Lin put ice into one shaker and started shaking at high speed. At first, there was only the sound of ice clinking, then a rustling noise. The quicker-witted among them looked shocked—was he shaking the ice into a slush by hand?

Just as they were marveling, Xie Lin struck a lighter and ignited the spirits in the other three shakers, pouring them into the jigger, stirring, adding mint, and then pouring into a new shaker. His motions were quick and rhythmic, mesmerizing everyone.

Gong Shao narrowed his eyes, noticing something peculiar: after the three bottles of national spirit were burned and mixed, they didn’t even fill a single shaker—a surprisingly rapid evaporation, even accounting for burning.

Finally, Xie Lin poured the shaken drink and ice slush into glasses. As the liquor flowed out, it was still aflame, and when it met the ice slush in the clear glass, it created a snowflake effect. Coupled with a touch of green mint, the scene was nothing short of magical.

Holy—! Who knew you could do that? The crowd sat stunned, but inside they were screaming. This trick was just too cool; they had to learn it from Xie Lin so they could show off in the future—it was sure to impress.

“Please,” Xie Lin offered the two glasses. Off to the side, Xie Xiaoqin cradled her chin in her hands, mesmerized by the beauty of the drink; regardless of the taste, its looks alone were enough to intoxicate.

“Second Brother Xie, impressive!” Gong Shao adopted Guo Lang’s way of addressing him. “What’s this called?”

“‘Spring Snow,’” Xie Lin replied expressionlessly.

“Second Brother Xie really is a man of taste—even his casual names are so classy,” Guo Lang said, rubbing his hands.

“Brother, don’t embarrass yourself if you don’t know the reference—it’s a song title,” Xiaoting, her lips red with chili oil, scoffed beside him.

“Who asked you?” Guo Lang glared at his sister. “Wipe your mouth, will you? You’ve eaten four bowls of rice already, can’t you slow down? By the way, where’s the pork I ordered for Xie Lin? Did you eat it?”

“I didn’t… or maybe I left some, but it probably dissolved in the soup,” Guo Xiaoting lied shamelessly.

Dissolved, really? Guo Lang was so exasperated he couldn’t speak.

While the siblings bickered, someone couldn’t resist anymore. “Hey, are you drinking or not? If not, can we have it?” It was Huang Kai. Guo Lang looked at him and smiled strangely, “Are you sure?”

What, you look down on me? Huang Kai was annoyed. He might not be a beast like the other two, but surely he could handle one glass. As he leaned in to take the glass, the moment he caught a whiff of the drink, his head grew heavy, and he nearly lost his balance.

The crowd burst out laughing. “Fatty, are you serious? Can’t even stand the smell? That’s a new low!”

Xie Xiaoqin, curious, leaned in as well, but just like the fatty, after a single sniff, she felt lightheaded, her cheeks visibly flushed.

Now everyone fell silent, faces frozen in shock. Was this real—just the aroma could intoxicate? Was this drink really so overpowering?

“Master Gong, after you,” Guo Lang said with a smile.

“You’re the host, shouldn’t you go first?” Gong Shao smiled back. He had chickened out. He had leaned in earlier and found that, even with his constitution, he could barely stay upright. This drink was something else. He had a feeling that even with his current physical state, a single sip would knock him flat. He also sensed a hint of danger from Guo Lang, as if he harbored some ill intentions, though he couldn’t recall ever offending him.

Gong Shaolin’s intuition was spot on—Guo Lang did indeed have designs on him. In his previous life, the water mage Xie Lin’s cocktails were famous; at the same level, even beastfolk would be bedridden for a day and a night after drinking one. If Young Master Gong dared to drink, Guo Lang would have no qualms about sneaking into his house that night to finish him off.

The scene grew tense. Chen Kaimin’s group, now mere bystanders, perked up, egging them on: “Come on, drink! Don’t let Second Brother Xie’s skill go to waste!”

As the scene grew chaotic, a sudden commotion arose outside. The crowd frowned—after all, they’d booked this place for the evening. Who would dare cause trouble?

———

Outside, a waitress was apologizing awkwardly, “I’m sorry, sir, but the venue has been booked by distinguished guests today.”

“Booked? Is that so? So they’re distinguished guests and we’re nothing, is that it? I reserved the place yesterday and paid the deposit, and now you pull this on me? How am I supposed to save face in front of my men?”

Put your face wherever you want, the waitress thought disdainfully. Could you even afford to offend those inside? Nonetheless, she maintained her professional smile. “I’m terribly sorry, sir. We’ll refund your deposit at double the amount. Please excuse the inconvenience.”

“Is this about money?” The speaker was a man in his forties, with a fat, ruddy face, a prominent beer belly, and a traditional Chinese jacket. He kept spinning a jade ring on his finger, exuding an air of underworld swagger. He glared menacingly at the waitress. “You think I care about the money? Bring out the boss—today, I want an explanation!”

Glancing at his face and the thirty-odd burly men behind him, the waitress wisely took a step back. “I’ll fetch the boss right away.” Inwardly, she scoffed at their lack of awareness. Did they know who was inside? They were in for a rude awakening.

“Boss, what’s going on?” Inside, Chen Kaimin asked the owner of Rainbirth Garden, his expression dark.

The owner, a man in his thirties, had personally come to host after hearing the mayor’s son would be attending. He put on a fawning smile. “Here’s the situation: this other group reserved the place yesterday, but when you, Young Master Chen, wanted to book it, we naturally gave you priority and refunded them double their deposit. Unfortunately, they weren’t satisfied and demanded an explanation. What do you think we should do?”

“Hmph!” After a whole day of frustration, Chen Kaimin finally found an opportunity to show off. “They want an explanation? Huang Kai, go give them one!”

“Right away!” Huang Kai, delighted to be called upon, straightened his collar and followed the boss out with high spirits.

Guo Lang, Xie Lin, and Gong Shao all frowned simultaneously. Trouble was brewing. Normally, they wouldn’t care, but with their keen senses, they immediately noticed two men in black vests among the crowd outside. One stood well over two meters tall, the other nearly one-ninety, both with solid, sculpted muscles and a menacing aura.

They felt just like Sun Biao. The three instantly realized: “They’re our kind!”