newborn

Gu Yan's instruction began, starting with the fundamentals of how to hold a Boston shaker, chilling it, and measuring the base liquor. Cheng Xiaorui studied diligently, but the weakness from long-term malnutrition and the tension in his heart made his movements clumsy and stiff.

When Cheng Xiaorui nearly spilled the gin in the measuring cup for the third time and frantically tried to fix it, Gu Yan finally couldn't help but let out a low laugh. That laugh was different from the mellow one from last night, carrying a more genuine joy and a hint of helplessness. He reached out, his broad palm firmly enveloping Cheng Xiaorui's trembling fingers, guiding him to feel the correct angle of tilt.

"Relax, 'kid,'" his breath brushed against Cheng Xiaorui's ear, "alcohol won't bite you."

Cheng Xiaorui felt a slight heat in his ears, and subconsciously wanted to pull his hand back, but Gu Yan held it tighter until he completed a fairly standard outburst.

"Okay, tell me now," Gu Yan released his hand, leaned against the bar, and looked at him leisurely, "What's your name? I can't keep calling you 'kid'."

Cheng Xiaorui—no, he took a deep breath, raised his head, met Gu Yan's inquiring gaze, and answered in a calm tone that he had practiced carefully:

"Xu Yan. Yanwu Xu, the inkstone of the inkstone."

This was the new name he chose for himself when he decided to completely bury his past and arrive in this unfamiliar city. He promised to start anew, no longer the "Cheng Xiaorui" burdened with so much pain and entanglement. He even managed to get a new ID card, though he knew it was probably just a formality, a name that might be meaningless, a mere symbol to replace his past.

"Xu Yan..." Gu Yan repeated the name softly between his lips and teeth, his eyes thoughtful, as if he was savoring the texture of the name, but in the end he didn't ask any more questions, just nodded, "Okay, Xu Yan."

Just then, a wind chime chimed softly, and a customer walked in. She was a woman, about twenty-five or twenty-six, wearing a neatly tailored khaki trench coat, with delicate makeup and a sophisticated demeanor. She walked straight to the bar, her eyes first lingering on Gu Yan with a familiar smile, then landing with surprise on the awkward Xu Yan beside him, examining him curiously.

"Boss Gu, is the sun rising from the west today? You actually hired a new helper?" Her voice was cheerful and teasing, and she looked directly at Xu Yan, "Who is this?"

Gu Yan did not answer her question immediately. Instead, he picked up a clean glass and skillfully began to cut lemon slices. He asked in a natural tone:

"Miss Shuyin, why are you free today? I haven't seen you in half a year."

The woman called "Shuyin" raised her eyebrows, as if she was used to Gu Yan's way of changing the subject. She sat down at the bar and put her handbag aside: "I just finished a project and I'm almost exhausted. I came to you for a glass of wine to replenish my energy." However, her eyes still drifted towards Xu Yan who was practicing silently on the side. She was obviously full of curiosity about the handsome boy who suddenly appeared next to Gu Yan.

Xu Yan could feel the scrutiny. He lowered his eyes and fiddled more intently with the cocktail shaker in his hand, trying to hide himself. This new name and new environment didn't seem to immediately sever him completely from his past.

"Boss Gu, can I tell you now?" Lin Shuyin looked at Xu Yan with unconcealed eyes, "I've never seen you before. How old are you? Do you want to come and have a drink with your sister?" Her voice was as sweet as honey.

Gu Yan calmly took a half step to the side, just enough to block her overly direct gaze. "Alright, Shuyin," he said flatly, "He's only eighteen, don't go after a kid."

Another child, Xu Yan silently retorted in his heart.

Lin Shuyin raised her eyebrows upon hearing this, and a playful smile played on her red lips: "Tsk tsk tsk, Gu Yan, ah Gu Yan," she deliberately stretched out her tone, "don't forget, you are still gay."

"Just kidding," Gu Yan calmly wiped the shaker, "I'm not at the point where I'd do anything to a child."

These words struck Xu Yan's ears like a thunderbolt. He froze, his cheeks burning uncontrollably. Fragments of memories he had been deliberately suppressing suddenly surged forward—Lu Ziyi's kiss, Chen Zihan's... Why hadn't he pushed her away? This question, never considered before, grew like a weed. Could it be that he...

"What are you thinking about?" Gu Yan came closer at some point and asked softly with the scent of mint and whiskey.

"No, I wasn't thinking anything!" Xu Yan hurriedly stepped back, but accidentally bumped into the wine rack. Amid the clinking of glass bottles, his flushed cheeks and ears betrayed him.

Lin Shuyin burst into laughter, and Gu Yan couldn't help but laugh too. Amidst their laughter, Xu Yan felt so embarrassed he almost buried himself in an ice bucket. That afternoon, a certain self-doubt was quietly emerging.

During the subsequent cocktail practice, Xu Yan was clearly distracted. His already clumsy movements were fraught with errors, like forgetting to add sugar syrup or adding the bitters incorrectly. When he turned a supposedly clear dry martini into a cloudy gray-pink, even Lin Shuyin couldn't stand it.

"Little beauty," she teased, shaking her wine glass, "If you keep being so distracted, Boss Gu will dock your salary."

Gu Yan took the failed cocktail and took a sip, frowning slightly. "Go to the storage room and get some limes." He deliberately sent Xu Yan away and turned to Lin Shuyin and whispered, "Stop teasing him."

Xu Yan fled into the storeroom as if granted amnesty. In the cramped space, he slowly crouched down against the shelf. The cool metal racks tinged through his thin shirt, but it couldn't cool the heat on his face. In the darkness, those overlooked details became clearer—he had indeed never felt any attraction to a woman. Instead, the memory of Lu Ziyi's warmth as she gripped his wrist, and Chen Zihan's tight embrace, made his heart race.

"Did you find it?"

The door to the storage room was suddenly pushed open, and Gu Yan's figure stood against the light. Seeing Xu Yan squatting in the dark, he closed the door and pulled out a bag of limes from a high place.

"Staring blankly in a place like this?" His voice sounded particularly low in the enclosed space.

Xu Yan hurriedly stood up, but stumbled into a cargo box in the darkness. Gu Yan reached out just in time to steady him, his palm firmly supporting his elbow. This brief contact made Xu Yan stiffen, and an unfamiliar shiver crawled up his spine.

"Mr. Gu..." His voice tightened, "When did you...know that you liked the same sex?"

Xu Yan regretted his words the moment they left his mouth. In the darkness, he heard Gu Yan gently put down the lemon bag, and the metal rack made a slight friction sound.

"Sixteen years old." He was surprisingly candid. "My violin teacher held my hand from behind during a demonstration, and I thought, how nice it would be if he was a girl." Gu Yan's voice was filled with distant memories. "Later, I realized that it was precisely because he wasn't a girl that that moment was so unforgettable."

Xu Yan opened his eyes wide in the darkness. This overly private sharing made him feel overwhelmed, but it was like catching a glimpse of a lighthouse in the fog.

"Let's go." Gu Yan was the first to open the door. When the light flooded in again, he had regained his normal expression. "Remember, Xu Yan, orientation is like a cocktail recipe - there is no right or wrong, only whether it is suitable or not."

When I returned to the bar, Lin Shuyin had already left, leaving a note at the bottom of her glass: "You scared the little beauty away. Next time, I'll compensate you with a bottle of Macallan 25."

Xu Yan squeezed a lime and watched Gu Yan continue polishing his wine glass. Sunlight filtered through the blinds, casting streaked shadows across his face. The confusion about his sexual orientation remained, but it seemed less alarming. As Gu Yan had said, perhaps this was just a matter of time, a glass of self-awareness.

Since that conversation, Xu Yan's inner turmoil over his sexual orientation hasn't completely subsided, but he's learned to live with it. He's devoted more energy to learning how to mix cocktails, becoming increasingly proficient, and occasionally earning a brief, "Not bad," affirmation from Gu Yan. He knows that Gu Yan, to him, is more like someone who calmly offered him a paddle when he was about to drown. He respects him and is grateful to him, a pure feeling, untainted by any false thoughts.

Gu Yan also always maintained a proper distance. He gave advice on techniques and occasionally chatted, but never crossed the line. He was like a keen observer, watching Xu Yan carefully explore the fog of self-awareness.

Late one night, while cleaning the ice trough, Xu Yan accidentally splashed water onto an old movie poster on the wall. It was a film from many years ago. Gu Yan walked over, looked at the vague outline of the male lead on the poster, and suddenly said softly, "He looks a bit like someone I used to like."

Xu Yan paused as he wiped his hands. This was the first time Gu Yan had mentioned a personal matter.

"At that time, I was your age and felt that I had to have him." Gu Yan's tone was very flat, as if he was telling someone else's story. "Then he got married and the invitation was sent to me."

He picked up a rag and helped Xu Yan wipe away the water stains. "You see, no matter how intense the emotions are, time will polish them into... just a story."

Xu Yan listened in silence. He understood Gu Yan's intention. He was using his own past to tell him that no matter how confused and obsessed one felt at the moment, life would eventually lead to peace.

"Thank you." Xu Yan said in a low voice.

Gu Yan patted his shoulder and said, "Finish packing up early and go back to rest."

Xu Yan walked back to his rental apartment, the sea breeze bringing a cool breeze. He thought of Lu Ziyi and Chen Zihan. Those intense, painful memories were still vivid, but the suffocating feeling they brought seemed to be gradually easing. He still didn't know where his future emotional destiny would lie, but he seemed to have found some inner anchor—no longer clinging to someone, but focusing on becoming a more stable self.

He looked up at the sparse starry sky of the strange city. The road was still long, but at least he was learning how to walk.