Blue Cocktail chapter 24

When He Yin heard those words, her eyelashes trembled. “Cheng Shuo, I—”

Her phone in the handbag suddenly began to vibrate, its deafening ringtone swallowing the latter part of her sentence.

He Yin answered the call, and upon hearing a few sentences, she frowned, as if it was an urgent matter. She hastily ended the call, took a last look at Cheng Shuo, and hurriedly left, holding Hanhan’s hand.

Cheng Shuo was left dumbfounded.

The porcelain cup He Yin had placed on the bar was picked up by Lu Huaiqian. There was just a little less Americano coffee in the cup.

His eyes flickered intermittently, yet he maintained a smile on his face. He waved at Cheng Shuo. “Have you finished your sketch?”

Cheng Shuo suddenly snapped out of his daze and pursed his lips. “Not yet, there’s a bit left.”

Good thing he didn’t ask about the connection between He Yin and me.

It’s best if he doesn’t ask.

Lu Huaiqian strolled leisurely, approaching Cheng Shuo. “Do you want something to drink?”

Cheng Shuo responded with a question, “Isn’t the bar only open at five in the evening?”

Lu Huaiqian pointed at the clock on the wall and chuckled at Cheng Shuo, “It’s almost five, what’s a few minutes? Whatever you’d like to drink, I can make it for you.”

Cheng Shuo avoided Lu Huaiqian’s gaze. “I won’t drink today.”

Lu Huaiqian asked in confusion, “Why’s that?”

“Not in the mood.”

That answer was so typical of Cheng Shuo; Lu Huaiqian couldn’t help but smile. “How about a cup of coffee then?”

He said earnestly, “Coffee will make you more alert.”

Cheng Shuo furrowed his brow. “But the voucher you gave me was for free drinks, not coffee.”

“What should we do then?” Lu Huaiqian pretended to ponder for a few seconds. “How about I treat you to a cup of coffee?”

“No need.” Cheng Shuo refused firmly.

“Do you sell beer here?” Cheng Shuo said. “If you do, bring me a bottle, any brand will do. I’ll take it home.”

Lu Huaiqian was slightly surprised. “You’re leaving so soon? Won’t you stay a little longer?”

“No.” Cheng Shuo shook his head, and just before leaving, he added, “I need to go back to finish a draft.”

“Alright.” Lu Huaiqian instructed Aru to bring a bottle of beer, then hesitated before asking, “But I thought you didn’t want to drink today?”

“I just don’t like getting drunk in crowded places.”

“So, getting drunk at home is acceptable?”

“It’s better than getting drunk in a bar.”

Lu Huaiqian stared at Cheng Shuo for a while. “You seem to be in a bad mood.”

Cheng Shuo immediately retorted, “I’m not.”

“Is that so?” Lu Huaiqian tilted his head and observed, “It’s like you’ve written ‘don’t mess with me’ all over your face.”

This time, Cheng Shuo didn’t respond to his words, which was akin to not arguing.

The beer was packaged, handed to Lu Huaiqian, who then gave it to Cheng Shuo. “Here you go.”

“Thank you.”

Those two words were too polite, making it seem like their relationship had regressed to the initial stage.

Lu Huaiqian’s expression shifted slightly, but it was brief, and he maintained his usual smile. “If something’s bothering you, you can share it with me. That way, your sadness will be halved.”

“No, that would just create two sad people.”

Lu Huaiqian continued, “Let me guess, it’s not related to the woman from earlier, is it?”

Cheng Shuo’s body suddenly stiffened.

But Lu Huaiqian still asked.

Unable to control his tone, he blurted out two sentences, “She doesn’t have the power to influence my emotions.”

“You can cooperate with her, but don’t interfere in her affairs with me.”

Finishing his words, Cheng Shuo turned and left.

Lu Huaiqian watched his retreating figure. “You’re not staying for a chat or even saying goodbye?”

Cheng Shuo didn’t look back. “Goodbye.”

The smile on Lu Huaiqian’s face dissipated considerably, and he lowered his head, lost in thought.

“Mr. Lu, I’ll have a Mojito.”

A regular customer greeted Lu Huaiqian with a smile, passing by Cheng Shuo.

So Lu Huaiqian raised his head again, wearing his impeccable and familiar smile.

At half-past five, it was rush hour on the subway.

Cheng Shuo stood in the crowded crowd, his gaze like a bird that had lost its feet, unable to find a place to land, shifting aimlessly. His eyes passed across the deep gray glass, faintly reflecting his somewhat dejected figure, translucent, like a wandering, homeless ghost.

At three-thirty in the afternoon, he had boarded the subway from Fuqu Jia Garden to Mo Blue Bar.

The journey had lasted an hour, with a transfer in between. He was extremely tired on the way, drowsy yet afraid to sleep, fearing he might miss his stop.

Now, going back home would be another hour, equally long and boring. Fate seemed to be playing a joke. Finally getting a seat after waiting for so long, he was just about to sit when the final stop arrived.

He ordered takeaway on the subway, soup noodles. Perhaps ordered too early, combined with the delivery boy’s lightning speed, the food arrived twenty minutes before Cheng Shuo got home.

Cheng Shuo silently took the takeaway, opened it, and found it all lumped up.

He stirred the bowl with chopsticks with some difficulty, but the noodles wouldn’t separate. Instead, a few drops of soup splashed onto his hand. He tried stirring a few more times, but the noodles clumped together, as if he were an evil stepmother abusing the swan couples.

Cheng Shuo got annoyed and didn’t bother to separate them, making do with swallowing it all.

People always say plans change, he thought. But this time, it seemed like he had brought it upon himself — the draft was actually finished, thanks to his tireless efforts from Friday evening till three in the morning. He was able to balance quality and efficiency, all thanks to his willpower.

visual scripting was never not tiring; visual scripting had always been exhausting. So much so that he fell asleep on Saturday afternoon and woke up feeling slightly dizzy.

But luckily, ending a worrying matter meant he could unwind at Mo Blue Bar without being always preoccupied.

The plan seemed perfect, but fate played a little trick on him: he saw He Yin.

He Yin was Cheng Yu’s ex-wife, and Cheng Yu was the father on his birth certificate.

Cheng Shuo took out the beer Lu Huaiqian had given him, stared at it for a few seconds, then took out his phone, opened WeChat, and sent a red packet of money to Lu Huaiqian equivalent to the beer’s price.

Then he casually tossed the phone onto the couch.

He searched but couldn’t find a bottle opener; maybe he’d left it back in the dormitory. Cheng Shuo became annoyed and simply bit the bottle cap off with his teeth.

The wine glass was placed on the coffee table; the amber liquid splashed into the transparent bottom of the glass, filling it to the brim. White foam overflowed but flowed down the glass’ side.

Cheng Shuo lifted the glass, tilting his head back to finish it in one gulp.

He knew he couldn’t hold his alcohol. He wouldn’t enjoy the pleasure of alcohol because he always believed that happiness should come from a sober state. When not sober, any seemingly positive emotion could be seen as self-numbing.

So Cheng Shuo didn’t understand his current mood; he just felt his consciousness immersed in the alcohol, permeated and drowned.

He felt dazed.

Collapsed on the couch, exhausted, he yawned, tears of physiological response welled up in his eyes, blurring his vision. He rubbed them repeatedly with his fingertips until his sight cleared again—

He saw his childhood self.

First grade, second class, school bell ringing.

Blue and white school uniforms, fluttering red scarves.

Little Cheng Shuo, relying on his small figure, ran swiftly through the slowly moving crowd, slipping out of the school gate nimbly.

It was a spring day much like today, with a similar temperature.

He ran to He Yin. “Mom.”

He Yin just responded with a cold “Hmm.”

She disliked holding his hand, and little Cheng Shuo had long sensed it.

Every time she took him across the street, He Yin would walk behind him, gripping his arm.

Or she’d tug on his hoodie, causing the collar to choke his neck. Little Cheng Shuo endured until he couldn’t bear it, then quietly reminded her.

Then He Yin would frown in dissatisfaction, coldly let go, and ignore him completely.

At these times, little Cheng Shuo had to remember the traffic safety rhymes his teacher taught him in class—red light stop, green light go, wait when the yellow light’s on…

One particular day, He Yin seemed to be in a bad mood. So, from the beginning, she hadn’t touched little Cheng Shuo, not even mentioning crossing the road together.

It was as if she assumed he’d follow on his own, and maybe it didn’t matter if he didn’t.

His round, grape-like, black eyes showed a hint of disappointment. He silently followed behind He Yin, silently reciting the rhymes, “Look both ways, cross at the zebra crossing, the safest place…”

Fearfully crossing the road alone, he got home, letting out a breath.

He took a math test and a pen out of his backpack. The teacher said every student needed to get their parents’ signatures on the test.

Clutching the paper, with a palm-sized face brimming with an unhidden pride and a hint of expectation, he said, “Mom, I got full marks, first in the class.”

“Hmm, not bad.”

He Yin casually signed her name, not glancing at it, and stuffed the paper into little Cheng Shuo’s arms, turning away to the kitchen.

Little Cheng Shuo watched He Yin’s retreating figure, forcing out a smile. As anticipated, there wasn’t much disappointment; He Yin was always like that—

No matter how well he performed, He Yin wouldn’t be happy. Maybe He Yin hated him as a person, so everything he did was wrong.

He tried to convince himself not to be too sad. Besides getting He Yin’s approval, there were other sources of happiness in life, like his classmates, teachers who liked him, and the swallows building nests on the acacia tree outside the teaching building—wondering if they’d have baby birds?

That evening, Cheng Yu called He Yin, saying he had to work overtime.

At the dinner table, only little Cheng Shuo and He Yin were present. He Yin only fed him when she was in a good mood, and little Cheng Shuo didn’t expect her to. Standing on the chair, he struggled to pick up the vegetables with his chopsticks.

Suddenly, he heard He Yin say, “Let’s go to the amusement park next Saturday.”

Little Cheng Shuo was momentarily stunned; his little heart was quickly filled with great joy. “Okay.”

Just as he felt amazed, he wondered, “Why do you want to take me to the amusement park?”

He Yin seemed to smile slightly, her brows and eyes showing a rare softness. “Because you got full marks. It’s your reward.”

Thinking back, He Yin’s smile seemed very fake at that time, but at that moment, Cheng Shuo was only about seven or eight years old. So, starting from that evening, he lived each day with the anticipation of going to the amusement park, counting his fingers, waiting for the next Saturday to come.