"She must be deteriorating by now, right? If all fails, I'll take her soul back to modern times immediately!" Shen Songming had drunk too much to almost remain seated, yet his mind was still clear.
Mo Heng's expression turned dark with anger, his tone icy, "Impossible! You will never be able to! She belongs only to me!"
"Think you can outdrink me?!" Shen Songming sneered.
Mo Heng's expression remained unchanged, but his eyes were already blurred and no longer clear.
Shen Songming, who had traveled far and wide, dealt in businesses, and leaned on liquor tables to make friends, could drink an entire table under.
Mo Heng was already tipsy, "Qinqin hates drunkards!" He glanced at the wine jar beside him and refused to drink any more.
"No matter how I change, she likes me! She won't leave or abandon me!" Shen Songming chuckled, "A sixty percent chance; if it fails, two lives are at stake—Qinqin will definitely hate you! She will come back to modern times with me!"
