Fortune’s Hearth was a ti-honored establishnt in Kingsford.
It specialized in local Kingsford cuisine and was famous but very expensive.
If Joyce Guthrie hadn’t been treating, students from Arcadian University would almost never dare to eat here.
Alvin Morgan had brought Aurora Sinclair here a few tis before, and she loved their specialty roasted chicken most of all.
Joyce Guthrie let everyone order. When it was Aurora Sinclair’s turn, she went straight for the specialty roasted chicken.
The other girls looked at the price and imdiately lost their composure.
"That’s really expensive..."
"Yeah! And eating at will make you gain weight."
"You can’t just take advantage of her like that..."
Hearing this, Joyce Guthrie smilingly stopped them. "Aurora likes chicken. Let’s order one for everyone to try."
When they called the waiter over to place the order, the specialty roasted chicken was unexpectedly sold out.
This dish was a house special, with only 100 sold per day. Once they were gone, you had to wait until the next day.
Joyce Guthrie was taken aback. She asked, "You can’t make just one more? We can pay double."
The waiter, with a standard smile, shook his head. "I’m sorry, miss. This dish is prepared a day in advance. It has to be roasted for at least eighteen hours..."
"Oh, I see! Well, let’s just eat sothing else then!" Joyce Guthrie said, a look of regret on her face.
Aurora Sinclair glanced at the waiter, a hint of confusion in her eyes. ’Whenever she ca with Morgan, they always had it.’
"If they’re out, we can just get sothing else. It’s not like we absolutely have to have chicken..."
"Right, you should order sothing else, freshman! This papaya stewed with fresh milk would be perfect for you."
As soon as this was said, many people started snickering knowingly.
The boys’ gazes, in particular, drifted subtly toward a certain area.
Aurora Sinclair didn’t understand the hidden aning and even nodded.
A few of the girls exchanged glances, their eyes filled with ridicule.
While they were waiting for the food, the waiter suddenly ca in again, saying with a broad smile, "My apologies, I made a mistake just now. We do have one specialty roasted chicken left. Would you still like to order it?"
Aurora Sinclair’s eyes lit up.
Joyce Guthrie glanced at her and replied with a smile, "Since you have one, we’ll take it."
The waiter gave a slight nod, then asked, "Excuse , which of you is Miss Sinclair?"
Everyone turned to look at Aurora Sinclair in surprise.
Upon seeing her, the waiter walked over with a smile and handed her a Fortune’s Hearth VIP Black Card. "A gentleman asked to give this to you. With this card, you can enjoy a 50% mber discount and receive a complintary specialty roasted chicken."
The mont the words were out, everyone in the room stared wide-eyed in disbelief at the Black Card in Aurora Sinclair’s hand.
’A fifty-percent discount! That’s a ton of money saved!’
Aurora Sinclair glanced at the Black Card and asked softly, "Can I use it now?"
"Of course. Miss Sinclair, when you’re ready to pay the bill later, you can just present the card to receive the discount."
After the waiter left, a strange silence fell over the room.
Everyone looked at Aurora Sinclair with complicated expressions.
Joyce Guthrie broke the silence with a smile. "Looks like I’m benefiting from Aurora’s good fortune today. You’ve saved a lot of money."
Aurora Sinclair gave a shy nod.
The girls exchanged glances and asked with a grin, "So, freshman, which handso guy gave you this card?"
Aurora Sinclair shook her head. "I don’t know."
"Check your phone. Whoever ssaged you must be the one who sent it."
Goaded by the girls’ teasing, Aurora Sinclair took out her phone. Sure enough, there was a new ssage.
[Morgan: Sent you a card. Eat roasted chicken whenever you want.]
One girl quickly snatched Aurora Sinclair’s phone and read the ssage aloud.
"Freshman, may I ask who this ’Morgan’ is?"
Beside her, the color drained slightly from Joyce Guthrie’s face. She took the phone back for Aurora Sinclair and chided, "You guys are way too nosy!"
"Mor... Morgan... It couldn’t be..." The girl’s face suddenly filled with terror.
Seeing her reaction, everyone instantly thought of the Morgans.
Joyce Guthrie quickly interjected, "There are lots of people with the surna Morgan in this country, right, Aurora?"
Aurora Sinclair nodded.
The girl clutched her chest, looking frightened. "You scared to death! I thought it was one of the Morgans!"
The others also looked relieved and blad her for creating a tense atmosphere.
"Erin, you nearly scared to death. It’s not like you can run into the Morgans just anywhere. Only soone with Guthrie’s family background could, right, Guthrie?" one girl said fawningly, while secretly shooting a disdainful glance at Aurora Sinclair.
Joyce Guthrie’s expression turned a little flat. "It’s nothing special. They’re just ordinary people."
"Guthrie, you’re being too modest. Morgan, Guthrie, Huang, Lockwood, Qi, White, Liu—who in Kingsford doesn’t know of the Seven Great Families?"
"Exactly, the Guthries are ranked right after the Morgans! Your family is the second Great Family of Kingsford."
Joyce Guthrie just smiled and changed the subject. The others simply assud she was being modest.
Only those from the Great Families knew that this ranking was primarily based on family assets, not their actual power.
A family’s power encompassed many aspects, but the most important was the Combat Power used to intimidate other families.
If ranked by overall strength, the Guthrie Family couldn’t even compare to a third-rate family in Kingsford.
***
"My brother’s here!" Joyce Guthrie said with a smile, looking at her phone.
The girls in the room instantly brightened, their gazes turning eagerly toward the door of the private room.
Soon, the waiter led Jensen Guthrie into the room.
"Mr. Guthrie—" Most of the people in the room stood up.
Aurora Sinclair noticed that Jensen Guthrie wasn’t wearing the sa clothes she had seen him in that morning. ’He must have gone back to his dorm to change, and his hair is still a bit damp.’
"Brother, sit..."
"Mr. Guthrie, we saved you a seat," a girl said coyly, giving up her own spot and sliding into the empty seat next to Aurora Sinclair.
Jensen Guthrie’s seat was now on the sa side as Aurora Sinclair’s, but with one person between them, so he wasn’t next to her and couldn’t easily see her.
Joyce Guthrie glanced at the girls over there and gave a silent laugh, but her gaze was distant.
"The president’s here! Quick, pour the drinks! Let’s all toast the president! Everyone’s drinking today! No excuses..."
The girls from the Calligraphy Society could all hold their liquor, pouring drinks even more enthusiastically than the boys.
"Aurora can skip this one," Jensen Guthrie spoke up, but the girls next to him were imdiately displeased.
"President, you can’t show favoritism. When we first joined, we all had to drink. You can’t let her off just because she’s the campus belle."
"Exactly! Go on, fill her glass. If she won’t drink liquor, she’ll drink beer..."
Aurora Sinclair’s glass was imdiately filled to the brim with amber-colored beer, topped with a thick layer of white foam.
Joyce Guthrie said with a smile, "Go on, drink up! If you get drunk, we’ll take you ho."
Aurora Sinclair nodded, raised her glass to toast with the others, and drank it down.
’It’s a little bitter, but not as strong as the stuff Master used to buy.’
Then, everyone continued to eat and drink, playing drinking gas on the side. But every ti it was Aurora Sinclair’s turn, she would lose.
"You lost, you lost! Drink up, drink up!" a few of the girls crowed, slapping the table triumphantly.
Under Jensen Guthrie’s worried gaze, Aurora Sinclair had already downed three or four bottles of beer. Yet her expression remained unchanged—her face wasn’t flushed or pale, and her voice didn’t even quaver.
The girls saw this and thought, ’Did we run into a pro?’
They imdiately started clamoring for hard liquor.
This ti, Aurora Sinclair took a sip and thought, ’Finally, sothing that tastes a bit like what Master always drinks.’
The boys, who had been watching the drama unfold, all understood that the girls were ganging up to get the campus belle drunk.
But they never expected the campus belle to be able to drink so much; she didn’t seem to have any problem at all.
"Campus Belle, I’ll toast to you! You should co to the society etings more often..."
Aurora Sinclair held the cup with both hands, returned the gesture with an ancient formal bow, and downed the drink without a change in expression.
Seeing this, the boys’ eyes lit up instantly. They all raised their cups, toasting her one after another, which made the girls inwardly cheer them on.
After who knows how many rounds, all the boys had been drunk under the table. But Aurora Sinclair, still looking perfectly fine, held her cup in one hand and gnawed on a chicken leg with the other, her movents as bold and unrestrained as a wandering hero from a TV show.
The girls’ expressions finally shifted from surprise to horror. They asked, stunned, "Freshman... aren’t you dizzy?"
"Nope." After replying, Aurora Sinclair went on happily gnawing on her chicken leg.
"Have... have you ever been drunk?"
"Never."
"..."
When the party finally broke up, the girls watched Aurora Sinclair’s cool silhouette as she walked away with her hands in her pockets, and they couldn’t help but shiver.
’She drank six bottles of beer and three bottles of hard liquor...’
’And she’s completely fine?’
’What the hell, is she the God of Wine or sothing?’
User Comments
0 comments from readers