Night fell, and the streets were illuminated by neon lights. The small garden at the entrance of ‘Perfumum’ bar creaked as the glass door was pushed open.
Someone strolled leisurely into the garden, two silver rings on his left ear still swaying slightly when he stopped. Judging by his back, he was tall and long-legged, and his attire was quite dapper. He wore a brown jacket under a trench coat, looking rather yuppie and refined.
However, his left hand clutched a snakeskin sack printed with the words “Pig Feed,” while his right hand was vigorously thrusting into the soil.
Soon, a sunflower, its petals still glistening with dew, stood upright in the flowerpot, vibrant under the starlight of the skylight.
The man stood up, patted his bottom with satisfaction, and instead of going through the garden into the bar, he turned around and walked away leisurely, as if he were just a flower thief passing by.
The bartender, who had come out for a break, rubbed his eyes at the sight of this figure. In such cold weather, he still prioritized style over warmth, and he walked with the swagger of a peacock displaying its feathers.
Damn, he really resembled his flamboyant boss, who was busy traveling the world!
Facts proved that the bartender’s eyes were fine.
It’s just that someone, full of whimsy, had a sudden urge to try scaling the wall.
And he actually succeeded.
The long-closed balcony door on the third floor of the bar was wide open, and the lights were on. The room was a chaotic jumble of everything: a tea table, ceramics, oil paintings, sculptures, musical instruments… even a large meteorite fragment, all souvenirs collected from his travels.
Not long after, the water in the purple clay teapot boiled, and the aroma of tea leaves filled the air. Just then, the main door was kicked open with a bang.
“How is it you—” Tang Chen, originally intending to catch a thief with a fierce expression, saw that face and was so startled that he nearly fell while holding onto the door. “Zhu Jingru, where did you fly in from? Have you really become a spirit?”
Zhu Jingru pointed to the balcony, very warmly and amicably, “Next time, I’ll take you with me.”
“No way, I still want to live a few more years.”
Zhu Jingru beckoned, “Sit down and have some tea first.”
Tang Chen took a half-step back.
Zhu Jingru: “I brought it back especially for you from Sri Lanka.”
Tang Chen’s scalp went numb. As the saying goes, when a fox spirit pays New Year’s greetings to a chicken, is the tea poisoned?
Zhu Jingru thoughtfully handed him a cup, “Try it.”
Tang Chen took it after a moment of suspicion. He looked at it and felt that there was nothing wrong with it. It was clear and smelled fragrant. He was indeed thirsty, so he closed his eyes and decided to gamble, betting on Zhu Jingru’s conscience.
Within three seconds of entering his mouth, his tongue felt like it had been bombed. Tang Chen sprayed out all the tea in one breath, clutching the trash can and dry heaving, “Ugh—”
Zhu Jingru handed him a tissue and immediately dumped out the remaining tea leaves, commenting softly, “I made a little mistake while roasting it. It’s actually this bad.”
“I… ugh… I shouldn’t have trusted your evil… ugh…” Tang Chen wiped his mouth, his voice trembling. His mouth was a chaotic mix of sour, sweet, bitter, spicy, and salty, a truly terrible experience. He sat facing Zhu Jingru, feeling incredibly weak, “Tell me, how long are you planning to stay this time?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then what are you planning to do afterwards?”
“I don’t know.”
In a daze, Tang Chen realized the truth of the matter: “Zhu, you came all the way back from South America just to make me drink that shit you roasted??”
Zhu Jingru sprawled lazily on the floor, resting his head on his hand, “It’s tea, Sri Lankan black tea.”
Tang Chen stared at the dark, strangely glowing unidentified object in the trash can, his gaze gradually becoming vacant, “You’re really… as crazy as ever.”
His words were completely true.
The year he met Zhu Jingru, he discovered that this scoundrel’s head seemed to have been kicked by a donkey. Any absurd, ridiculous, and nonsensical thing wasn’t surprising coming from Zhu Jingru.
Dropping out of university halfway through, riding a broken motorcycle across the Eurasian continent, getting tired of playing in a band and going to northwest China to plant trees, going to mountainous forests and deserts—wherever was fun… In short, he was as outrageous as could be.
Now, seeing that he was still the same at over thirty years old, acting on his own accord and full of mischief, with a fox-like face that could bring disaster to the world…
Speaking of which, how did Zhu Jingru’s mother not beat him to death back then?
It was a profound question.
Tang Chen saw Zhu Jingru propping his head up with one hand, the dark red phoenix flower tattoo on his wrist half-exposed. He slowly opened one eye, a mischievous expression on his face. His striking features were captivating, his peach blossom eyes tilted upwards, looking at a mouse with as much affection as if it were a lover.
Case closed. The reason was his face.
As Zhu Jingru listened to Tang Chen rant about his twenty-seventh blind date, he unknowingly fell asleep. His eyelids closed tightly, the ceiling light swaying and his shadow lengthening. The noise from the bar downstairs faintly drifted up. He had crossed half the earth to return to a relatively stable harbor.
He vaguely heard Tang Chen mutter, “You probably don’t know that the bar is about to be driven to bankruptcy by me, do you?”
Well, now he knew.
After an unknown amount of time, a knock came on the door, accompanied by the bartender’s increasingly loud voice, “Boss, are you awake? Brother Tang left cursing an hour ago.”
Zhu Jingru forced his eyes open. He was covered with a blanket, the room was warm, and he squeezed out a sound from his throat as a response.
“Did you tease him again?”
“Mm.”
“Did his blind date fail again?”
“Mm.”
“Then how long has it been since you’ve been in a relationship, Boss?”
The topic changed quickly. Zhu Jingru’s brain fully booted up, and he sat up, draping his coat around him, “Come in.”
The bartender pushed open the door and hurriedly came up to greet him, taking the opportunity to gossip, “Haven’t seen you for half a year. The guests are guessing your son is crawling on the floor by now. Speaking of which, is there still no sign of our boss’s wife?”
Zhu Jingru tried to recall, “I think I was in one eight or ten years ago, I forgot, can’t remember clearly.”
The bartender was stunned: “…”
Zhu Jingru blinked: “…”
The bartender stared intently at the area three inches below Zhu Jingru’s abdomen, “Boss… are you still… you know… functioning… down there?”
As a veteran employee, the bartender knew that Zhu Jingru would do what he said, so he laughed heartily and quickly found an excuse to slip away.
Zhu Jingru stretched, walked to the balcony railing, and took in the breeze. How long had it been? It was a strange question.
The people around him were either married or in relationships, and it all seemed so uninteresting.
Zhu Jingru leaned his arm on the railing. The night was vast, and ginkgo leaves carpeted the ground in shades of green and yellow. He held a cigarette in his mouth, puffing out smoke rings and murmuring to himself, “The day I lose my mind and get into a relationship, that will be the day I die.”
As soon as he finished speaking, the streetlight below went out.
Completely out.
Standing on the balcony, Zhu Jingru didn’t even flinch, remaining remarkably calm. Only when he habitually bit down on his cigarette butt did he realize something was wrong.
His hand had trembled from the shock, and the cigarette had already fallen.
