Don't forget again
At night, the warm yellow light of a convenience store cast a hazy patch of light through the mist on the glass windows. Li Huaizhou sat on a plastic chair by the window, his fingertips gripping a cup of hot milk, fresh from the microwave. The warmth from the cup's walls seeped through the thin cardboard, penetrating between his fingers and into the cracks between his bones, but it couldn't warm his clenched knuckles—the pads of his fingers were pale blue, and even his shoulders, weighed down by the weight of his guitar bag strap, were stiff with tension.
Half an hour ago, in the shadow of the bar's back door, Wen Juzhi's fingers tugged at his wrist, and the mixed breath of cigarettes and alcohol sprayed on his face: "Boss Zhang is coming tonight, you can add a spot, and you will definitely get some benefits." In the past, at such times, he would just lower his eyes numbly and let Lao Zhou drag him to the small room with the "Warehouse" sign hanging on it. But just now, he clutched the shiny strap of his guitar bag, his Adam's apple rolled, and he actually shook his head.
"I'm not feeling well, let's do it another time."
"Brother Zhou?" Ji Jiancheng's voice came from the snack aisle, a bit vague, like biting into oden. In his hand, he held two steaming skewers, the tips of the bamboo sticks dripping with amber soup. "The radish and fish balls you asked for, Brother Chen watched them cook for ten minutes, saying that this is the best way to make them tasty."
Chen Qitang followed behind, placing a basket of steamed meat buns on the table. The cold air from outside had touched the tip of his ponytail, and a layer of fine white frost had formed on the ends of his hair. "I just sent a message on the WeChat group, but you didn't reply, so I guessed you were still here—where's Xie Mo? Didn't he leave with you?"
Li Huaizhou's gaze slowly shifted, landing outside the transparent glass door of the convenience store. Xie Mo was standing under the streetlight, a black backpack strapped neatly to his back. The rope of his white sweatshirt fluttered gently in the night breeze, the end rubbing against the back of his hand. He didn't approach, nor did he move away, just standing there quietly. "He's...waiting for me." Li Huaizhou pushed the hot milk toward the edge of the table, the bottom of the cup making a slight sound against the smooth plastic surface.
Ji Jiancheng bit the fish ball and nodded, "What are you waiting for? It's so cold outside, come in and sit down." As he was about to raise his arm and shout, Shen Qitang quickly pulled his sleeve - she blinked, gave Li Huaizhou a subtle look, pointed at Xie Mo at the door with her chin, and pulled Ji Jiancheng towards the cashier: "Don't shout, maybe he wants to get some fresh air. Come on, accompany me to pick a bottle of Coke."
The sound of the plastic chair being opened and closed was very light, but it was particularly clear in the empty convenience store. When the two figures disappeared behind the shelves, only Li Huaizhou was left in the store. The slow song drifted from the radio, the melody was soft, wrapped in the warm yellow light, and fell on his knees.
He watched Xie Mo slowly push open the door and walk in, his footsteps as light as if stepping on cotton, making no sound at all. When he reached the table, Xie Mo's eyes first fell on the untouched cup of hot milk - a thin wisp of white steam floated from the rim of the cup, condensing into a small mist in the cold air. Then he looked up at him, his voice still as cold as usual, but a little softer than that afternoon at the amusement park, as if softened by the heat of the milk: "Don't want to drink it?"
"For you." Li Huaizhou pushed the milk towards him again. When his fingertips touched the wall of the cup, he remembered that Xie Mo did the same thing at the exit of the haunted house in the amusement park that afternoon. He handed him the bottle of mineral water that was still cool from the refrigerator. As soon as his fingertips touched it, he quickly withdrew it, as if he had been burned. This time, Xie Mo did not hide and reached out to take it.
"He's looking for you." Xie Mo suddenly spoke, the steam from the hot milk drifting upwards, blurring his drooping eyelashes and casting a small, light shadow under his eyelids.
Li Huaizhou's fingertips suddenly shrank, and the hand holding the guitar bag strap tightened instantly, the metal buckle hurting his palm - as if seeing the panic in his eyes, Xie Mo lowered his head and blew gently on the rim of the cup, dispersing the white steam a little, then took a small sip, and lowered his voice even more, as if afraid to startle him: "At that time, I saw him pull your wrist." He didn't say more, didn't ask "Why did he pull you", nor did he ask "What did you say", but just pushed the half-drunk cup of hot milk back in front of him and said, "You didn't eat breakfast this morning, your stomach is not good, it's hot, drink some."
Li Huaizhou stared at the glass of milk, the white steam floated to his face, with a bit of sweet milk smell, burning his eyes a little sore. He remembered a few years ago in winter, it was also such a cold day, he was holding the last few dollars, and was blocked by Lao Zhou at the back door of the bar - at that time he had been hungry for two days, and it was Lao Zhou who reached out and helped him up, saying "Come with me, I will give you something to eat, and you come to work for me". At that time he thought it was a life-saving measure, until the first "regular customer" pinched his chin and said "Brother Wen said you are sensible", he realized that he had fallen into another pit, even darker than the alley where his father was an alcoholic and violent man.
"I don't want to go anymore." Li Huaizhou's voice was very soft, as if it was about to be blown away by the wind outside the window. "Today I told him 'no', and he stared at me for a long time. I felt a little..." He didn't say that he was afraid of the force of Lao Zhou picking up the beer bottle and smashing it, or that those "regular customers" would stick to him when they were excited, or that he would numbly lower his head and say "OK" like before.
Xie Mo didn't say anything, but placed the mineral water bottle in front of him. The bottle still carried the cold air from outside, and the condensed water droplets dripped onto the table, creating a small wet mark. He slowly raised his hand, his fingertips still cold, but he didn't touch it and then withdrew it as usual. Instead, he gently pressed on Li Huaizhou's clenched knuckles, the force was very light, like a feather falling on it, but with a sense of unmistakable
"Then don't go"
These words were so light, yet warmer than the cup of hot milk just now. They penetrated into my heart along my fingertips, softening the numbness that had been frozen hard. The corners of Li Huaizhou's eyes suddenly turned red. He quickly turned his head and looked at the street lights outside the window. This alley was sparsely populated, with few people passing by. Only the evening breeze rustled the trees, and the figures of Ji Jiancheng and the others were heard.
"They don't know." Li Huaizhou's voice was a little hoarse, as if his throat was scalded by milk.
On the convenience store radio, the singer was singing the chorus. His voice was soft, wrapped in the warm yellow light, and fell on the table between them. Li Huaizhou secretly raised his eyes and looked at Xie Mo's hand holding the hot milk - the knuckles were clear, there was only a faint scent of milk, and a little bit of cool temperature, clean and comforting to him.
"Let's go." Xie Mo suddenly stood up and stuffed the cup of steaming milk into his hand. The heat from the cup pierced through the paper shell, scalding his fingertips. "I'll take you home."
Li Huaizhou was stunned for a moment, then stood up. The strap of his guitar bag brushed against his shoulder, and surprisingly, it didn't feel as heavy as usual. Every time he came out of the bar before, this guitar felt like it was filled with lead, weighing him down so that he couldn't lift his head. But now, with it on his back, it felt a little lighter. He followed Xie Mo out of the convenience store. The glass door dinged, and Ji Jiancheng and Shen Qitang had already left, leaving only a text message: "We're going home first. Be careful on your way, and don't be late for rehearsal tomorrow!"
The streetlights stretched their shadows very long, falling side by side on the asphalt road. Occasionally, an electric bike would pass by, and the light would sweep across the ground, causing the shadows to sway, as if gently touching each other. Xie Mo walked half a step away from him, not saying a word, but not deliberately keeping his distance as usual. The night wind blew the scent of soapberries on his sweatshirt over. When he reached the alley called "Neon", Xie Mo suddenly stopped, turned around, and took something out of his backpack - it was a box of jasmine milk, exactly the same as the one he usually put on the corner of his desk. He didn't know when he bought it. "Drink it tomorrow morning." He handed the milk over, and his fingertips touched Li Huaizhou's palm, which was cool. "Don't forget it again."
"Hmm." Li Huaizhuo's voice was so soft, so soft that he was afraid it would be blown away by the wind in the alley.
Xie Mo didn't say anything, just nodded slightly. The rope of his hat swayed in the wind. He turned around and walked back. The figure in the white sweatshirt gradually became smaller under the street light.
Li Huaizhou stood there, holding the milk carton in his hand and in his pocket. He turned and walked into the alley. His steps were a little steadier than when he came in, and the strap of his guitar bag didn't seem so heavy anymore. He held the milk carton tightly in his hand.
He thought, tomorrow morning, I must remember to drink
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