When it was time to toast at Alice Conley’s table, Mabel Quinn realized that Daniel Harris had already left ahead of time. "But he did say he wishes you happiness."
Mabel smiled lightly, a bit regretful for not seeing Daniel’s son in person after hearing Alice’s description that he seemed like a rather unique child.
Dorian Howards and Kyle Kinston exchanged drinks. "I thought you’d never have the chance to throw a wedding banquet again in this lifetime, yet here I am drinking your wedding wine." Then he turned to Mabel, saying, "Mabel, if Kyle ever gives you a hard time, come to me. I won’t hesitate to help you out."
"Alright." Mabel said with a smile.
"I suppose you won’t have that chance." Kyle remarked.
Everyone laughed. When it was Atlas Shaw’s table’s turn to toast, he raised his glass and asked Mabel, "Will you continue being a screenwriter?"
"I will." Mabel replied, as screenwriting was a career she planned to dedicate her life to.
"That’s good. I’ll continue acting." He said with a soft smile, acting allowed him to experience different lives, perhaps giving him a greater interest in the notion of "living."
When she watched his performances, at least at that moment, he would capture her attention.
Kyle, standing beside them, raised his eyebrows and lifted his glass towards Atlas. "Thank you." These two words carried many meanings.
"You’re welcome," Atlas replied and drank his glass.
After the round of toasts, Mabel mostly followed the formalities, drinking just plain water and not alcohol. Kyle, despite having the help of the best man and bridesmaid blocking drinks for him, drank quite a bit and his cheeks began to show a noticeable blush.
As the wedding banquet ended, Mabel, with Dorian’s assistance, helped the slightly drunk Kyle get into the car, and they drove toward the Quinn Family mansion.
Since the wedding banquet was held here in J City, the new residence was naturally set up first at the Quinn Family.
Katherine Quinn followed Edward Quinn into another car.
Upon returning to the Quinn Family, Mabel supported Kyle into the bedroom, intending to have a servant prepare some Hangover Soup for Kyle to drink, lest he wake up with a headache in the morning.
But before she could walk out of the room, Kyle caught her hand.
"Lie down for a bit. I’ll ask a servant to prepare Hangover Soup," she said hurriedly.
"No need," he smiled briefly, his dark pheasant eyes filled with emotion as he gazed at her, "Did you forget? I told you my tolerance is quite good."
"But..." she hesitated. His cheeks were clearly flushed from drinking, yet his gaze was still clear, not the kind of dazed drunkenness where one couldn’t even focus. "You’re pretending to be drunk?" She thought for a moment, finding the word.
"Not exactly pretending." He chuckled. "I am indeed a bit drunk, but not too much. This amount won’t challenge me. I know exactly what I’m doing."
He spoke as he held her hand, gently rubbing it against his cheek. "Today is our wedding night. Every moment is precious, isn’t it? If I didn’t pretend to be drunk, they wouldn’t have let me off that easily. I fear they’d have made me thoroughly drunk, and I don’t want to spend the night in drunken dreams."
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