Chapter 292: True Colors Revealed
Yu Zhiyu looked at Chen Ye Chu, who was already drunk but quietly asleep, then at his cousin Liu Yao, who was muttering about wanting to go home, and sighed.
“Xiyue, keep an eye on the two of them for a bit. I’ll go check if Brother Qingyuan’s hangover soup is ready.”
“Okay, go ahead. I’ll watch them.”
Ning Xiyue nodded—she was still strong enough to handle them.
As soon as Yu Zhiyu went into the kitchen, only one sober person was left: Ning Xiyue. The other two were drunk messes.
“I want water… water… Xiyue, water…” Liu Yao smacked her lips a few times, mumbling as she fumbled around for the kettle.
Ning Xiyue quickly snatched it up.
“This isn’t water, don’t touch it. You can’t drink this. I’ll pour you some water.”
Seeing Liu Yao settle down and stop moving, Ning Xiyue hurriedly poured a glass of warm water and brought it over.
“Here, water’s ready. Drink this, you’ll feel better after.”
After Liu Yao drank, Chen Ye Chu started calling for water too.
Ning Xiyue poured another cup for her.
But just in that short moment while she turned around, a miserable clucking erupted from the chicken coop.
She turned her head and nearly got a headache from the sight—helplessly pressing her hand to her forehead.
The previously well-behaved Chen Ye Chu, who had been sitting quietly, had somehow staggered into the chicken coop and was hugging the biggest hen inside.
Just a moment ago, Ning Xiyue was thinking this girl had good drinking manners—quiet and peaceful.
Barely nine seconds later, her true colors were revealed.
Swaying and giggling, Chen Ye Chu came staggering back, clutching the chicken, babbling nonsense:
“Yaoyao, I brought your mom over!”
Then, stroking the chicken’s feathers, she pouted and said,
“Auntie, why do you have so many hairs? Oh! I get it—it’s your hair! So pretty, and short too! Yaoyao, your mom got a haircut!”
She wobbled toward Liu Yao as she spoke.
—What the heck, a haircut?!
Ning Xiyue wanted to cry but could only run over to support Chen Ye Chu and rescue the poor chicken.
But Chen Ye Chu resisted, her voice breaking with drunken sobs:
“Don’t take Auntie! You’re hurting her! Look—hic—her throat, it’s all… changing voice… Auntie, don’t be scared, I’ll help you!”
“Cluck cluck cluck—!” The chicken’s tragic cries filled the courtyard again.
“Alright, alright, I won’t take her. You take Auntie to see Yaoyao, okay? I’ll help you walk over.”
Ning Xiyue coaxed her gently, playing along.
“Yaoyao, come here—your mom, I brought her to see you!”
“My mom? Where’s my mom?”
Liu Yao jumped up, eyes lighting up when she saw the chicken in Chen Ye Chu’s arms. She ran over, and the two of them hugged the poor, terrified hen, crying their eyes out.
Liu Yao hugged the chicken’s neck, sobbing,
“Mom… wuwu… I missed you so much, Mom…”
Chen Ye Chu, clutching the chicken’s body, joined in,
“Wuwu… Mom… Auntie… don’t cry…”
The two cried together, while the trembling chicken screamed miserably in their arms.
Three sounds overlapped—two crying girls and one screaming hen.
They were clearly homesick and missing their mothers, but crying while hugging a chicken…
The scene was both hilarious and heartbreaking.
Ning Xiyue stood by, torn between laughter and tears. When she tried to separate them, the two wouldn’t let go, clutching the chicken tighter.
Finally, she gave up—collapsed emotionally—and decided to join in the absurdity.
Stomping her feet, she sat down and dramatically slapped her thighs, wailing,
“Oh heavens! My two dear friends, why must you torment my poor little chicken like this? My poor, delicate baby chicken! It’s my failure as its owner—barely arrived in its new home and already suffering such tragedy!”
The trembling “tool chicken” cried internally: Can someone stop these weird humans?! They’re terrifying! My life isn’t safe—cluck cluck cluck!
Just then, Yu Zhiyu and Ning Qingyuan rushed out of the kitchen, each holding a bowl of hangover soup.
Yu Zhiyu went straight toward the two crying drunkards holding the chicken, while Ning Qingyuan ran up to his sister, panicked.
“Xiaomei! What happened? Are you hurt?”
“Hahaha, nothing! Just playing along with them.”
Ning Xiyue instantly switched faces, smiling sweetly. There wasn’t a tear on her face—her eyes were clear and bright.
“You little brat, you scared me. I thought you’d fallen! Come, drink the hangover soup. You’ll feel better.”
Seeing she was fine, Ning Qingyuan relaxed and handed her the bowl.
“Thanks, Second Brother. Did you drink yours?”
“I did. This one’s yours—drink slowly.”
Ning Xiyue nodded, lifted the bowl, and downed it in one go.
Over there, Yu Zhiyu was coaxing the two drunks to drink their hangover soup too.
Finally, under his patient persuasion, they swapped the poor chicken for a feather duster.
Now the two of them were clutching the feather duster and crying to it instead.
No one had ever seen anyone drunk enough to mistake a chicken for their mother.
Ning Xiyue ran to pick up her pitiful chicken and gently carried it back to the coop. The poor thing was limp and lifeless, looking worse than a wilted eggplant.
If it had been “loved” for another minute, it might’ve really gone to heaven.
At that rate, it would’ve set a record for the shortest-lived chicken in her chicken-raising history.
“Xiaomei, let me help.”
Ning Qingyuan ran over, helping her put the chicken back into the coop, locking the door, and securing the fence.
The chicken flapped its wings twice, clucked weakly, and fell silent. The three hens huddled together in the corner, heads tucked under their wings, perfectly still—
—as if saying:
“Finally, our terrifying day is over. We survived. Time to sleep.”
