Chapter 14 (Three Chapters in One)
Song Ting found a clean tea table. Nan Jiu pulled out a chair with a sour face and sat across from him.
Old Man Nan came out of the kitchen, glanced at Nan Jiu, and went back to his room with a stern face.
The tea set lay quietly on the ebony tea tray. Song Ting reached out his fingers, his knuckles slightly bent, and dropped a handful of curled tea leaves into the cup. Boiling water flowed into the cup like a thin thread, neither hurried nor slow. Steam rose, and the fragrance of the tea was awakened in the boiling water.
The complicated process becomes smooth in Song Ting's hands, and the "harmony, tranquility, joy and truth" that are important in making tea are reflected in the flowing tea soup.
Song Ting picked up a cup of tea and placed it in front of Nan Jiu. She took the cup, and the annoyance she had felt when she first sat down was gone. Her mood had subconsciously calmed down.
Nanjiu brought the teacup to his nose and squinted at him: "You won't ask me for service fee after drinking it, right?"
"It's possible."
"That's great, ask my grandfather for it." Nan Jiu drank it in one gulp and handed the cup back to him.
Song Ting didn't give her any trouble today. After she finished her cup, he refilled it for her. His gaze fixed on the covered bowl as he raised his hand to make a second brew.
Nan Jiu's eyes inevitably touched the marks left by the crutch on his arm: "Why did you help me block it?"
The tea flowed into the fairness cup. Song Ting picked up the cup again and placed it in front of her: "I'll just consider it as returning it to you."
Because of him, Nan Jiu was scolded by Old Man Nan during her sophomore year of high school. She was caned on the leg and it hurt for several days. But it was because she had pinched and scratched Song Ting first, so how could she "repay" him?
Nanjiu picked up the cup and tilted her gaze. The thick air and the noisy chirping of cicadas outside the window weighed heavily on her chest. The tea flowed down her throat, its bitter aftertaste lingering between her lips and teeth. This was the first time Nanjiu had tasted the deep and complex flavor of tea.
She handed the cup back to Song Ting. He raised his hand to take it, and their fingertips touched. Her fingertips were cold, while his were warm. Nan Jiu did not loosen his grip, and his gaze slowly moved upwards. Song Ting's figure melted into the afterglow slanting through the window, his thick eyebrows lying powerfully above his eye sockets. The flowing light climbed over his towering brows and straight nose bridge, and his outline had never been so clear in Nan Jiu's eyes. She seemed to suddenly understand why Liu Yin had a special liking for him. At first glance, his appearance was sharp and difficult to approach. But after getting along for a long time, he was pleasing to the eye. Just like this second brew of tea, it was both mellow and layered, forming a strong impact that bloomed between the lips and teeth.
Song Ting tightened his knuckles, avoiding her touch, and took the fairness cup. A subtle atmosphere of knowing each other intimately, yet feeling strangely unfamiliar, hung between them. Nan Jiu lazily leaned back in his chair, the lines around his lips carelessly loosening.
During dinner, Nan Jiu stayed in her room. Old Man Nan said, "If you don't eat, you'll be hungry. Don't call her."
Nan Qiaoyu glanced at Old Man Nan and said nothing. Although he and Nan Jiu didn't get along, he felt that Nan Jiu had done nothing wrong in what happened that afternoon. If it were him, he wouldn't just let it go.
After everyone finished their meal and left, Nan Qiaoyu slipped to the door of Nan Jiu's room and knocked: "Hey, open the door, the meal is served to you, take it in and eat."
"Go away." Nan Jiu's voice came from the house.
"Forget it if you don't want to eat." Nan Qiaoyu put the food back on the table and went upstairs.
It was almost ten o'clock when Old Man Nan walked out of the house and took a walk around the main room. Seeing that the food on the table had not been touched, he walked to the door of the side room and poked the door with his crutch.
There was no movement inside the door for a long while. Then Old Man Nan's deep voice landed at the door: "If you don't get up and eat your meal, you'll be leaving tomorrow."
Still no sound came from the room, and Old Man Nan suddenly felt something was amiss. Nan Jiu's personality meant he would have said something back, even if he wasn't convinced. He wouldn't have been so quiet. He reached up and turned the door, but it wasn't locked. There was no one in the room.
Old Man Nan immediately turned around and shouted towards the stairs, "Song Ting, hurry up, I haven't seen you for a long time."
Song Ting put on a black T-shirt and walked down the stairs in two steps. He took out his phone and called Nan Jiu. The ringtone rang in her room. He looked over and saw that Nan Jiu's phone was charging on the bedside table. She must have been nearby.
Nan Qiaoyu had just fallen asleep when he ran downstairs with his hair in a mess. "Let's go out and look for him?"
"Do you know the way? Don't lose yourself." After saying that, Song Ting strode out of the teahouse.
......
Nanjiu wandered down Maoer Lane, unknowingly reaching the top of a slope. The gates of the low houses on either side were tightly shut. At the very back stood a red house. The iron gate was rusted, and the windows were dark. The facade, stained by years of rain, was layered with dark red and brown, like frozen tears of blood.
Li Chongguang had told her that Song Ting used to live in the red house on the slope. Nan Jiu paused at the gate, thinking of what had happened there in the past. A chilling and oppressive atmosphere swept in from the gate along with the night wind, and she couldn't help but shudder.
"What are you doing here?" Song Ting's voice suddenly appeared behind Nan Jiu, and she turned around abruptly. The distant light stretched Song Ting's shadow very long, almost touching her toes.
Nanjiu's gaze paused for a moment, his hands shoved into the pockets of his loose jeans: "It's because you gave me so much tea that I can't sleep now, so I came out for a walk."
"At least bring your phone." Song Ting took out her phone and handed it to her. "Are you still angry with your grandfather?"
Nan Jiu put her phone in her pocket, lowered her head, and crushed the gravel on the soles of her shoes with her toes. "He thinks those men have bad intentions towards me because I'm not wearing enough. Isn't this victim blaming?" She raised her foot and kicked the gravel into the grass. She raised her head and let out a long sigh. "But I'm not angry anymore. What's the point of being angry? In my grandfather's time, people still bound their feet. Even broken bones had to be stuffed into small shoes. Didn't they think it was natural? Now they just bind feet in a different way. Their generation was bound for most of their lives. I won't be bound by those clichés."
A few strands of wind-blown hair brushed across her smooth forehead and the corners of her slightly pursed lips. She didn't care at all, even with a touch of nonchalant carelessness. Such a lively look entered Song Ting's eyes, and even the house behind her no longer seemed lifeless.
Ever since the house was taken, Song Ting never walked up the slope again. The few hundred meters away had become a vortex he wouldn't approach. Nan Jiu noticed his silence and glanced at the house shrouded in darkness. "So this is your home?"
"Yeah." Song Ting frowned slightly, and his black clothes blended into the night.
"Is it vacant now?"
“It’s being used as a warehouse.”
Nanjiu nodded and said nothing more. After what happened, it was highly unlikely that anyone would buy the house to live in.
Song Ting's gaze climbed over the courtyard gate, and the light in his eyes condensed together, as if nailed by invisible nails in the mottled paint marks on the door panel.
Being able to discuss this place with another person so casually was something Song Ting had never experienced in all those years. No one would dare to approach him, and over time, this place became the cradle of his inner turmoil, refusing to bury itself. Without warning, Nan Jiu pushed the door open on this breezy yet surprisingly calm night. The weight of his past experiences, so heavy they had been, seemed to have melted away in the night breeze. He had never before faced this place squarely, as he did now.
Nanjiu's footsteps gradually faded away, and his voice fell behind him: "Go back and tell my grandfather."
"Where are you going?" Song Ting turned around.
"I went to the old street. I haven't been there for several years."
......
Nanjiu strolled alone down the street, buying some snacks and eating along the way. The signage of the lingerie shop still stood. After so many years, the things he had once been too embarrassed to talk about now seemed laughable and bittersweet.
Song Ting was only about the same age as she is now. He saw her embarrassment, but never exposed her. She bought her first pair of underwear with Song Ting's money. Looking back now, it still seems a bit absurd.
It was late at night, and the shops on Old Street were about to close. Only the few bars at the end of the street were still bustling with people. Nan Jiu stopped and then turned into the most popular bar.
The lights, polished by the rhythmic beats, transformed into flowing specks of light, and the powerful music instantly drew everyone into the throbbing atmosphere. The bar was large, with a stage in the center. The DJ, using a microphone, set the mood. A circle of young people surrounded the stage, arms raised high, their cheers rising in volume as the DJ's movements progressed.
This carefully crafted illusion liberated souls from boredom, trapping them in a fleeting revelry. As Nan Jiu squeezed under the stage, the relaxed and joyful atmosphere captured her as well.
The DJ was a coolly dressed young man who danced, sang, and hummed, making him quite popular. As the music reached a crescendo, the crowd on the dance floor erupted in activity. Nanjiu's muscle memory was awakened by the rhythm, and as the neon lights shifted, she swayed to the music. She wore a bright halter top with two thin straps cinching at the back. The U-shaped back pushed her entire smooth back into the light.
Several young, fashionable men and women, strangers gathered around. Seeing Nanjiu alone, they pulled her over to dance with them. Fragments of neon frantically chased Nanjiu. Once within her realm, each twist of her body captured the attention of those around her. Her seemingly relaxed yet perfectly timed movements imbued her with an indescribable vitality.
All the unhappiness dissipated in the dense drumbeats, and Nanjiu was having a blast. Someone patted her shoulder from behind, and when she turned around, her eyes met Song Ting's, who was sitting at the bar through the crowd. Nanjiu paused. She didn't know when Song Ting had followed her, or how long he had been there. The scene in the internet cafe three years ago flashed through her mind, and the long-lost feeling of being restricted surfaced in her heart. The difference was that she was an adult and no longer needed supervision.
Nanjiu looked away with a cold expression. The man who had taken the photo of her asked for her WeChat. She didn't hear clearly, so she leaned over and asked what he was talking about. Seeing her approach, the man naturally extended his arms. Nanjiu smiled and turned away.
Her body was blocked by the figure and disappeared from Song Ting's sight.
Song Ting's face darkened slightly, and he raised his hand to ask for a bottle of beer.
Nan Jiu tilted her head, her gaze hidden in the crowd, looking at Song Ting through the gap. Song Ting didn't walk towards the dance floor to catch her back. He still sat at the bar, his chin slightly raised, beer flowing down his throat.
......
The bar owner, Zheng Kun, walked up behind Song Ting and put his arm around his shoulders. "I've invited you several times, but you never came. You didn't even bother to call me when you came today. Let's go upstairs and sit down."
Song Ting smiled and said, "No, I'll be leaving in a moment."
Zheng Kun pulled away his chair: "Didn't you say that this place is too noisy and not suitable for you?"
"Xiao Bin called me, Granddaughter Nan is here."
Zheng Kun stretched his neck and looked around: "Where is it?"
"Inside the dance floor."
Zheng Kun turned his body to the side and didn't see it. He withdrew his gaze and said, "Why are you worried about me? That girl is not young anymore, right?"
"Um."
At that moment, the DJ picked up the microphone and approached the stage. He was a local internet celebrity, and the crowd of female fans gathered below the stage. Seeing him approach, they cheered, startling Nanjiu. She hadn't realized this was a nightly fixture at the bar: after the DJ's set, he'd randomly select a female customer to interact with. The women around Nanjiu frantically reached out to the stage, leaving her, bewildered, glancing left and right.
The sexy DJ began performing a sleek dance routine, occasionally lifting his shirt to reveal his lean abs. His abs were exposed, and the crowd below the stage howled like wolves, as if a switch had been flipped. Nanjiu suddenly understood what the girls were excited about. A smirk played in her eyes, and, adhering to the principle of not looking, her gaze rested squarely on the DJ.
The DJ moved along the stage, and wherever he went, the girls stood on tiptoe to try to touch him. This experienced DJ played a very close yet distant position, which made these girls feel itchy.
Although Nanjiu was only swaying slightly to the music, her rhythmic movements and effortless timing made her stand out from the crowd. When the DJ walked in front of Nanjiu, he slowly stopped and suddenly tore off his shirt. The girls below the stage went completely crazy and rushed towards her. Nanjiu's body was squeezed to the edge of the stage.
As the DJ crouched down, an older woman reached out to him. He leaned over and waved to Nanjiu. Nanjiu understood and reached out. The DJ grabbed her wrist, pressed her palm against his linea alba, and traced it down the hollow of his abdominal muscles. Nanjiu had somehow become the lucky audience member tonight. Screams rang in her ears, and everyone cheered.
Even after the DJ released her and waved goodbye to everyone, Nanjiu's heartbeat was still pounding in her chest. The show ended, and many people returned to their seats. Nanjiu turned and looked at Song Ting. He leaned back in his chair, his gaze lingering coldly over her, but otherwise, there was no movement.
Nan Jiu was confused now. She made such a noise, but he didn't call her back. So why did he come here?
She simply strode towards him, pulled out a chair next to him, and asked the waiter for a bottle of beer.
"Have you had enough fun?" Song Ting retracted his gaze and fell on the wine bottle in front of him.
Nan Jiu took the beer from the bartender, tilted his head back and downed half the bottle before replying, "Just now, those women kept yelling in my ears. I was so confused by them that I didn't even feel anything."
Her tone hinted at regret for not having touched her properly. Song Ting glanced at her and raised his hand to signal the waiter to bring a wet towel.
The waiter placed the folded wet wipes in front of Song Ting, and he threw them to Nan Jiu.
Nanjiu picked up the wet wipes and asked in confusion, "What for?"
"Wipe your hands."
Nan Jiu wiped his hands as he said, and after wiping them, he asked, "Why do you want me to wipe my hands?"
Song Ting ignored her. The DJ was quite famous in South City, surrounded by a large number of young fans and elderly women all the time, and his private life was very chaotic. Song Ting had heard about these things, and asking her to wipe her hands was just a reminder not to touch anything unclean.
Nanjiu threw away the wet wipes and turned sideways: "Once you wipe it off, the touch feeling will be gone."
The lines of Song Ting's profile were cut by the shadows, like a cold and hard cliff. "What's there to touch?"
"Fresh." Nan Jiu's eyes involuntarily drifted down from Song Ting's collar. She remembered that Song Ting also had abdominal muscles, having seen them at the bathroom door last time. In terms of sexiness, Song Ting's figure was much more powerful than the DJ boy's. His muscles looked more impactful.
Song Ting noticed Nan Jiu's gaze and glared at him: "Drink less, your mind is not clear."
Nan Jiu scoffed, "You're just getting started." She picked up the bottle and clinked it at Song Ting, "Have you told my grandfather yet?"
"He's asleep."
Nan Jiu tilted her neck back. Song Ting's eyes swept across her delicate veins, and he saw that she had drunk a lot more of the wine.
"You were running around a while ago just to shoot that video?"
Nanjiu put down his drink and asked, "How did I take the photo?"
"You have some talent." Song Ting glanced at her and gave a light affirmation. It was the first time he praised her.
A smile appeared from Nanjiu's eyes: "That's sentiment."
"Do you still have feelings for the teahouse?"
"I used to come here often during the winter and summer vacations when I was a kid, right?" Nan Jiu picked up the wine and continued, "But what you see is just me, but I actually have a whole team behind me."
Song Ting looked at her calm appearance with interest.
Nan Jiu told him she'd secretly filmed Song Ting from behind while he was inspecting the teacups and Old Man Nan was chatting with someone. That day, locked in her room, she'd shared her feelings with a high school classmate who was studying media. Their high school friendship was pure, free of profit and loss, so pure that Nan Jiu only needed to make a phone call, and he'd immediately rope in his roommates to help her with a plan. After trying several different approaches, they finally achieved the desired effect.
Nanjiu leveraged her social connections to find a senior student majoring in literature to help polish the copy. After successfully registering on all platforms, she integrated the content and published it.
As society accelerates, city dwellers are increasingly flocking to smaller cities like the fourth and fifth tier to explore local cuisine and local specialties. Compared to the overly commercialized old streets, Maoerxiang offers a more authentic feel, imbued with the slow-paced, everyday life that city dwellers crave. Nanjiu captures this nostalgic spirit in his photography and writing.
Tourists visiting the south city searched for information about the teahouse and came to Maoer Lane for its unique sense of age, thus generating unexpected traffic.
She spoke eloquently, her eyes shining as if a little sun was burning in them. She was at an age of ideas and drive, and even before entering society, she had already demonstrated her burgeoning ambition and drive.
She drank quickly and eagerly. While she was talking, two bottles were empty and she raised her hand to ask for another one.
Song Ting frowned slightly: "Who did you go to the bar with before?"
"Boyfriend." Nanjiu said calmly.
"Your boyfriend is from the same school?"
"One at school and one outside." Nan Jiu raised the bottle and smiled at him evilly.
Song Ting glanced at her and asked, "Are you still playing both sides?"
"What else? If you don't try more while you are young, how will you know what is good? I have been staying with a man in my prime years, but has he ever saved my life?" A frivolous smile passed across the corners of Nan Jiu's eyes.
"Be careful, the boat might capsize and get flooded." Seeing that she was drinking too fast, Song Ting tried to stop her.
Nan Jiu dodged his hand: "No, I'm a good swimmer, I won't be the one drowned."
Song Ting stopped trying to persuade her and fell silent, turning his head to gaze further into the bar. The tendons on the side of his neck were knotted, the taut lines filled with a sense of power, like a silent mountain.
Nan Jiu put down his drink, leaned forward, and leaned in front of Song Ting. The smile on his face slowly spread, wanton and vivid: "Do you believe it?"
Song Ting stared at her, his eyes flashing from under his half-closed eyelids: "That's not the truth."
This bar's popularity stems from its ability to put on a show. A new program was added to the stage—a random mix of energetic songs, open to anyone who could dance. The host unveiled the prizes, and the spotlight shone on the four-figure bottle of champagne, its black and gold body gleaming dazzlingly.
As soon as the music started, everyone, whether they could dance or not, joined in the fun. Many of the drunken patrons started dancing around, much to the laughter of the audience.
Alcohol catalyzed a dizzying magnetic field. Nan Jiu sat on a high chair, his upper body swaying slightly to the rhythm of the music, a casual charm emanating from him.
Song Ting picked up the wine, and her eyes were taken away from him. The wine slid down his throat, and his Adam's apple rolled slowly.
Nanjiu turned his gaze to the prize on the stage: "I haven't tasted that kind of champagne yet, do you want to try it?"
Song Ting put down his drink and turned his gaze to the side: "Are you going up?"
Nan Jiu pulled off the hair tie hanging in front of her chest, and her slightly curly platinum hair fell down: "It's a free gift, don't miss it." She stood up and walked towards the crowd.
Song Ting turned around and saw that she had walked a few steps and then turned back. She came up to him with a strange look on her face and said, "The men who were looking for trouble this afternoon are over there."
Song Ting followed her line of sight and turned to look at the card pack opposite him. The man in the pack also noticed Nan Jiu and glanced at him with an unfriendly look.
"Let's go." After all, this is not her own teahouse. If she makes any more noise, she will be scolded to death by Old Man Nan.
Song Ting stretched out his arm and pushed her towards the stage: "What are you afraid of?"
Nan Jiu frowned and turned back. Song Ting leaned on the bar with one hand, his eyes cold and calm, with a kind of pressure that could penetrate the skin and crush it: "Go ahead, I'll watch."
Nan Jiu gained confidence, and with a single push, she flipped onto the stage. She hadn't danced in a while, ever since her back injury, and every cell in her body was leaping with joy. Normally, she looked on with an indifferent expression, but once on stage, it was like she was at home. The silent bow within her quietly unfurled, and her eyes instantly lit up with a captivating brilliance.
Before, amid the crowded dance floor, her movements had been restrained. Now, with the alcohol on her side, her movements became even more free and unrestrained. The music surged, and she suddenly swung her hair, a streak of platinum becoming the focal point of the stage. Long-storing power unleashed from within her, her movements smooth and confident, even her flying hair radiating a fiery, vibrant vitality.
She turned and, amidst cheers, walked towards the bottle of champagne. Her graceful back stepped into the spotlight, her slender figure imbued with soul in her steps. Suddenly, she turned around, her restless and eye-catching gaze casting a boiling flame at the audience.
The music gradually stopped, and the aggressive look faded along with the music, and she returned to her relaxed tone.
The host came over and asked Nanjiu with a smile: "Are you sure you are not our dancer? It seems unreasonable not to give you this bottle of champagne..."
Nan Jiu no longer cared what the host said. She took the champagne and looked in Song Ting's direction, her lips raised and a smile spread wide. Song Ting sat half in the shadows, his gaze penetrating the crowd and the glitz, reaching a deep, solitary understanding that condensed into a silent spark.
After stepping off the stage, Nan Jiu walked straight towards Song Ting, champagne in hand. He turned, a faint smile in his eyes. As Nan Jiu approached, Song Ting lowered his brow, his eyes gradually turning colder. He slowly stood up, an unfathomable chill creeping through him.
Nanjiu paused, about to ask Song Ting why he was so fierce. Before she could finish her words, Song Ting extended his arm and took Nanjiu behind him. Nanjiu turned around and suddenly found that Li Wei was following her.
Song Ting's body blocked Li Wei's way. He lowered his eyelids and his gaze was like an invisible hand strangling Li Wei.
Li Wei raised his head and said in a bad tone: "Get out of the way."
"What if I refuse?" Song Ting's voice became deeper.
"Stop minding your own business."
Li Wei raised his arm, yanking it toward Nan Jiu, who was standing behind Song Ting. His arm reached mid-air when it was clamped down by the person in front of him. A brutal force snapped Li Wei's arm downward. The bar lights instantly blurred into a blur in Li Wei's vision. His body was twisted and folded by the force, slamming hard against the cold, hard countertop.
Li Wei's face was forced upwards, the spotlight above the bar blinding his pupils for a moment. A fierce curse escaped his throat. Then, the curses abruptly ceased, replaced by a cry for help from his bones, straining against the weight. With every struggle, the pressure on his shoulders pierced his nerves more clearly, his body pinned to the bar.
This was the first time Nanjiu had seen Song Ting furious. His eyelids barely blinked, his brows furrowed as he pressed down over his eye sockets. An indescribable tension lingered between the hard lines of his nose and the tense jaw muscles, a destructive power Nanjiu had never seen in him before.
After Song Ting controlled Li Wei, he raised his eyes and winked at Xiao Bin, who was walking towards him, telling him to go call the boss. Xiao Bin received Song Ting's gaze and immediately turned around and went to the second floor.
Seeing that Li Wei had suffered a loss, Da Qiangzi and his friends rushed to the bar in a rage.
The deafening music and the cacophony of chatter filled the air. It wasn't until Da Qiangzi walked behind Song Ting that Nan Jiu suddenly reacted. Da Qiangzi swung his fist, and Nan Jiu raised his bottle of champagne. His fist didn't hit Song Ting's back, but it did send the champagne flying from Nan Jiu's hand.
The bottle slipped from Nanjiu's hand. Her head buzzed and she subconsciously pounced towards the falling bottle.
At the same time, Song Ting sensed the movement behind him. He lifted Li Wei by the scruff of the neck and turned around. He caught sight of Da Qiangzi's incoming fist and let go. Li Wei stumbled forward due to inertia. Da Qiangzi's fist landed squarely on Li Wei's face. Li Wei screamed in pain, cursing, "Fuck you! Are you blind?"
On the other side, Zheng Kun had already brought his men over and surrounded Li Wei and his group.
Song Ting's gaze passed through the chaotic crowd and found Nan Jiu sitting on the ground, holding a glass of champagne. His pupils shrank suddenly, staring at the bloodstain on her hand. Then he bent down to take the champagne, pulled Nan Jiu up from the ground, and turned to Zheng Kun and said, "I'll leave this here to you. I'll take her back to the shop next door."
Zheng Kun nodded: "You go first, I'll handle this."
After leaving the bar, the noise was left behind, and the dark and quiet streets seemed to be covered with a black cloth.
Nan Jiu followed behind Song Ting. The wind blew on him, and the alcohol in his body rose. The heat in his body surged, and the surrounding environment was sometimes clear and sometimes hazy.
A few minutes later, Song Ting stopped in front of a shop and unlocked the glass door.
Nan Jiu looked up and saw the words "Nan Gan Ming Cha" printed on the door. Song Ting walked into the shop, and the spacious and bright furnishings were illuminated by the lights. Song Ting turned around and called her: "What are you standing at the door for? Come in."
Nan Jiu stepped into the neatly decorated tea shop. The first thing he saw was a finely grained black walnut tea table, topped by a simple, antique-style tea tray. Counters on either side of the shop displayed a variety of teas, with tea canisters neatly arranged in dark wooden grids, giving it a high-end look.
Nan Jiu looked around and asked, "Is this store yours?"
"Yeah." Song Ting responded and pointed in the direction of the tea table, "Go sit there."
Nanjiu raised his injured hand and moved to the tea table, glancing at the strange stone placed at the door. "How long has it been open?"
"More than two years."
"How's business?"
"It's okay." Song Ting pushed open a small door and there was still space inside.
Nan Jiu peeked in. "No wonder you changed your car. You could start your own business now, so why are you still working in a teahouse?"
"I'm used to it." Song Ting grabbed a bag of cotton swabs and ointment, dragged a chair and sat in front of Nan Jiu, raised his chin, and said, "Let me see your hand."
Nan Jiu held his right wrist with his left hand and raised it in front of Song Ting. Song Ting took a look under the overhead light. The nail of Nan Jiu's middle finger was turned up, and blood was seeping around the edge of the nail. The blood had dried and stuck to the skin.
"How did it happen?" He wiped off the blood stains around it with saline solution.
"The fat man ran behind you and tried to attack you. I blocked him with my wine, but he knocked the bottle away."
Song Ting paused.
"No need to thank me, I'll just consider it my repayment. We're even now."
Song Ting raised his gaze. Her thick eyelashes gently drooped, casting a soft shadow across her eyelids. Every time he touched them, the shadow trembled.
Song Ting retracted his gaze and moved more gently: "You're still picking it up after it's dropped? Luckily the bottle didn't break, otherwise you'd be hurt if you got pricked by the glass."
"It's thousands of dollars. It's not worth it to break it."
"Is it worth it to break your hand like this?"
Nan Jiu was silent. There were so many people and it was so crowded that when she rushed over, she was bumped by someone. She supported herself on the ground with her hands and her nails were directly lifted off. She almost rolled on the ground in pain.
Song Ting took a closer look and realized that her long nails weren't real nails at all; they had a layer of nail plates stuck on them. Normally, with nails like this, the plates should have been removed, but in this situation, Nan Jiu started screaming before his cotton swab even touched her.
Song Ting withdrew his hand, stood up and asked, "Is it painful to have such long nails?"
He walked behind the counter and rummaged through the drawers. Nan Jiu raised his head and replied, "The extension of the fingertips can enhance the beauty of the dance to a certain extent. In layman's terms, it makes the arms look longer."
Song Ting took out a pair of nail clippers and returned. Nan Jiu saw what he was holding and immediately retracted his hand: "I won't cut it. It will look ugly if I do. Just wrap it up for me. It will grow back in a couple of days."
"You're still concerned about looking good at this time? Aren't you afraid of infection?" After disinfecting the nail clippers, Song Ting looked up at Nan Jiu, his eyes revealing an unyielding tone. "Should I do it, or do you do it yourself?"
Nan Jiu snatched the nail clippers and raised her hand reluctantly. Every time the nail clippers touched her, she grimaced in pain. She hesitated for a long time but her nails were still not cut off.
Song Ting simply took the nail clippers and asked her, "I heard you teach people to dance outside. How many times a week do you teach? Does it affect your classes?"
"Three times during the week and classes on both days of the weekend. Classes are usually held in the evening during the week, so the times can be staggered. Ouch, it hurts... be gentle." While Nan Jiu was speaking, Song Ting cut the long nail with a pair of scissors, and the long nail was cut off cleanly and neatly.
His movements suddenly stopped, and he looked up and continued to ask, "Are you tired?"
"Of course I'm a little tired. In addition to the time in class, I also have to copy and practice dancing...Song Ting!" Nan Jiu exclaimed.
Song Ting took advantage of her unpreparedness and slashed her with a pair of scissors again.
"Am I a child? Do you need to distract me in this way?"
The sharp corners of his lips slowly turned upwards, forming an arc: "Isn't it done?" Song Ting put the nail clippers aside and motioned for her to look at it herself.
Nan Jiu's facial features were wrinkled together, and the piercing pain was still attacking her senses.
Song Ting picked up the ointment and sat back on the chair in front of Nan Jiu: "Be patient."
The fingers are connected to the heart, and the intense pain signals quickly travel to the brain through the nerve endings. Just now, when the wound wasn't touched, Nan Jiuzi screamed and screamed, but now that the ointment was applied to the wound, she became unusually quiet.
Song Ting glanced quickly at Nan Jiu. She looked away, her lips pursed, her face pale. She remained silent throughout the bandaging process, her thin back held straight, as if inhabited by a soul that refused to yield. Song Ting was lost in thought, suddenly remembering his past, those times when he'd been hurt, only gritted his teeth and endured it alone, with no one asking, "Does it hurt?"
Song Ting took the gauze and said, "Don't do it if you're too tired. Focus on your studies now. Call me if you need money."
Nan Jiu's frown gradually relaxed, and he raised his head to glance at his profile intriguingly: "Should I call my grandfather or you? My grandfather has three granddaughters and two grandsons. He occasionally helps me out, and others can turn a blind eye. But if I really let him sponsor me to finish college, do you think my aunt and my aunt will have any objections?
"As for calling you," Nan Jiu lowered her eyelashes, the clear lines of her face losing all the roundness of a young girl, and her facial features were immersed in a distant mist, which was more impactful than any soft smile. "What right do I have to call you?"
She raised her eyelashes, and a charming yet dangerous curve crossed her lips, like poison wrapped in syrup.
Song Ting looked at her, the light in the depths of his eyes restrained by invisible reins. He turned his gaze away, his voice a little deeper, "It's understandable that I should take care of what your grandfather is worried about."
"That's because my grandfather did you a favor. You helped me, and that's considered repaying him." Nan Jiu paused, "Then how can I repay the favor you showed me?"
"You don't need to pay it back."
The gauze wrapped around her fingers, circle after circle, the inevitable contact of their knuckles like sparks in the night, flickering, seemingly close yet distant. The final band of gauze closed, and Song Ting neatly cut it with scissors. Just as his fingertips were about to leave, Nan Jiu's tightly wrapped fingers suddenly moved ever so slightly, not pulling away, but moving forward—the soft resistance of the gauze barely grazing the inside of his wrist, where he was pinching the tape.
The air froze instantly, even the sound of the tape being pulled apart fading. His drooping eyelashes slowly lifted, and something within his calm, dark eyes was suddenly awakened. Time dragged on, long and sticky.
The pulse at his wrist was beating strongly, hitting her hanging heart again and again.
He didn't pull his wrist away immediately, nor did he speak. His eyes lingered on her face for a few seconds, as if trying to interpret her bold motives.
Someone standing outside knocked on the glass door twice. Song Ting turned around and saw Zheng Kun and two other people coming over.
"Wait two minutes." He instructed, retracted his gaze and quickly put the tape on the interface without any unnecessary contact.
Song Ting stood up, opened the door, and walked out. Nan Jiu leaned back in his chair and raised his fingers, which were wrapped like carrots.
Song Ting and Zheng Kun were standing at the door of the tea shop talking. He glanced at Nan Jiu out of the corner of his eye. She had her neck tilted, her chin supported by her hand, and looked drowsy.
Zheng Kun and the others were waiting at the door of the tea shop. Song Ting pushed open the glass door and asked her, "I'm going to go over to the side. Do you want to stay here or come with me?"
Nanjiu opened his eyelids and stood up from his chair: "Let's go together."
After leaving the tea shop, Song Ting walked ahead with Zheng Kun and the others, talking. Nan Jiu followed behind, arms folded and shoulders hunched. Song Ting glanced back at her, then stopped and said to Nan Jiu, "You go ahead with them." With that, he returned to the tea shop.
Zheng Kun greeted Nan Jiu and said, "I know your grandfather. He also lived in Maoer Lane when he was a child, and he was a buddy of Song Ting."
Nan Jiu twitched her lips and continued walking with him. Soon, footsteps caught up behind her. Nan Jiu turned her head and saw a jacket fall on her shoulders. Song Ting brushed past her and strode towards Zheng Kun.
Nanjiu pulled his jacket and put his arms into the sleeves.
They stopped at the door of a teahouse on the old street. The teahouse was closed, the door was half open, and two men were waiting there.
Zheng Kun introduced: "This is Mr. Li from Tianshun Tea House."
Mr. Li looked older than Song Ting. When he saw Song Ting, he said apologetically, "I'm sorry, Boss Song. My younger brother went abroad to study for a few days and just came back. He doesn't know the etiquette. I'm sorry to bother you so late at night. Please come in."
This teahouse had been open on the old street for several years, primarily serving tea and playing cards, but also offering simple meals. The lights in the hall were off, but the door to a private room on the first floor stood open, revealing a table filled with fine tea and cigarettes. Upon seeing Mr. Li and his men enter, several people in the room stood up. Nan Jiu glanced over and saw Li Wei, his face swollen and head bowed, standing against the wall. Da Qiangzi and his men stood beside him.
In a private room filled with men, a smoky conversation was inevitable. Song Ting stopped walking. Before he could speak, Nan Jiu said, "I'll wait for you outside."
The hall was empty, so Nanjiu found a booth.
Song Ting and Zheng Kun entered the private room. Li Wei and the others barely exchanged a single word, with Mr. Li smoothing things over. He explained that his younger brother was naive, and had seen a recommendation for Mao'er Teahouse in the comments about Tianshun Teahouse on the platform. Li Wei had been following the teahouse's operations page for a few days, wondering if there was a chance to poach the staff. Mr. Li explained that he had only received the news that evening, and that Li Wei and his friends had gone to the teahouse to cause trouble. He would definitely visit and apologize to Old Man Nan someday.
Song Ting gave Zheng Kun a look, and Zheng Kun said with a forced smile, "Old Li, you've opened quite a few shops in South City, and you're quite a prominent figure. This isn't just malicious competition. Mao'er Teahouse has been here for ages, and when it opened, your father was nowhere to be found. With your people messing around like this, I don't think you're going to care about your own reputation anymore."
Mr. Li's expression changed slightly, and he looked at Song Ting: "Brother, we are half in the same business. I've heard your name before, and today we are acquainted. I heard that you are a straightforward person. I won't be coy with you. How do you think we can resolve this matter?"
Song Ting picked up the tea, took a sip, and his eyes grew darker. "Mr. Li, the store is doing well, but the tea is a little bit lacking."
Aside from Li Wei and a few other youngsters, everyone present was a seasoned veteran. In business, there are no enemies, only interests. There's no conflict that can't be resolved if there's a discussion. Mr. Li glanced at Zheng Kun's half-smile and understood. Soon, the private room was filled with the sounds of harmonious conversation and laughter.
Nan Jiu leaned back in the sofa chair, his lips slightly curled up, his body gradually relaxed, and he no longer listened to the conversation in the private room.
It was already early morning when the group emerged from the private room. Song Ting glanced around the lobby but didn't see Nan Jiu. He just took out his phone to call her when he glanced up and saw her huddled up on the sofa, asleep, wrapped tightly in her jacket.
Song Ting walked over and touched her: "Get up, go home."
Nan Jiu's head was dizzy and his body felt heavy as if it was filled with lead, and he couldn't move.
Song Ting grabbed her arm through his sleeve and pulled her up. Nan Jiu sat up unsteadily, her eyelids drooping weakly.
Mr. Li said, "There's a room upstairs. Why don't you take her upstairs to stay for the night?"
"No need." Song Ting refused without hesitation.
He didn't stay any longer and left the teahouse with Nan Jiuxian.
Mr. Li greeted Zheng Kun and said, "Boss Song's girlfriend had a drink? It's a long way to walk back."
Zheng Kun had a subtle expression and glanced at him sideways. "Tomorrow when you visit Mao'er Teahouse, tell him this in front of Old Man Nan. See if he hits you on the head with his cane."
Mr. Li thought something was wrong and asked, "What did I say wrong?"
"That girl's surname is Nan. She must be the one you want to poach."
"......" Mr. Li looked embarrassed and shut up.
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