Tonight at the One party in Hangzhou, I spent 4k and called for a young lady.

She was extremely beautiful and cute. She suggested we play a dice game, and when she lost, the punishment was to say "I love you" ten times and drink. But she said it 20 times instead, and giggled as she poured me a drink.

After playing for a while, she suddenly put a cigarette—one that was a quarter smoked and still had her lipstick mark—into my mouth and asked, "Brother, am I sweet?"

At that moment, I suddenly realized it had been a long time since anyone told me they loved me. It was a warm and beautiful moment, completely different from my current situation, but that feeling of being loved was still vivid.

As time went on, I gradually drank too much and started to feel dizzy. Seeing this, the young lady took the initiative to block drinks for me, held my arm, and wouldn’t let me drink anymore. She patted my head and let me rest on her lap. In that moment, I felt her care and warmth. As for everything else, whether it was love or not no longer mattered.