Appendix 1 to Chapter 38
It was exactly nine o'clock in the evening when Qi Liang walked into the Rust Bar.
The almanac probably said it was not suitable for travel today, and towing orders came in one after another. He had just towed a BMW with a dented hood to the repair shop, went back to take a look at his father lying on the bed, and then hurried to work the night shift.
The fatigue from continuous driving made him feel like he was falling. He looked towards the small semicircular stage of the bar. Only the first three letters of the neon "Love" sign were left, but the owner was reluctant to change it. Every time when no one was ordering at the bar and Qi Liang wanted to relax, he would stare at the dark e.
It was a rare break for him during his long day.
After another waiter delivered the wine to the booth, he leaned against the bar with a plate in his hand and called him mysteriously, "Brother Qi."
In fact, he was the youngest, but because he was big and serious, the other waiters did not dare to call him "Xiao Qi" and cautiously added a respectful title.
Most of the time, he wasn't being intentionally aloof, he was just too sleepy.
His older brother came closer and said, "I heard there's a new singer coming tonight."
Qi Liang uttered a dull "hmm".
It had been almost a month since the last singer left before the owner replaced him. He probably finally decided to revive the ailing business.
His cold reaction did not dampen the waiter's interest. "I saw him when he came for an interview. He looked... Hey, here he is."
Qi Liang had no intention of cooperating with this inexplicable excitement, but the other party was pulling his arm tightly, so he had to raise his eyes and look at the person who walked in. He was stunned at the first sight.
The man was wearing a black suit that was tailored to fit him perfectly, outlining a suggestive waistline. An amber spot of light flashed across his face, and then that profile disappeared in the dim light, leaving only a silhouette.
His face was indeed eye-catching, but Qi Liang was not staring at him for that reason.
Qi Liang had seen this person before.
When we met that time, the other party was not as decent as he is now. He was lying on a green belt with his head buried in the grass, reeking strongly of alcohol, with a pool of vomit next to him.
It was early in the morning, and the filth was so unsightly that no one came forward to help. The man just fell there alone, like every homeless drunkard.
Qi Liang was driving by and after much hesitation, he stopped the car and sent the person to the hospital. He was in a hurry to deal with a towing order at the time, so he handed the drunkard to the doctor and ran away.
This was just a small episode in his dizzy life, and he didn't expect to see that person again.
The other person was sitting on a high stool on the stage, with the broken neon light behind him, completely different from that time.
Qi Liang watched him take out his guitar and play the first chord.
Qi Liang has loved listening to music since he was a child. It started as a hobby and later became a refuge. During the day, when he is on the road, the tunes flowing from the speakers are his only comfort. He believed that he had read all the music in China and abroad, but this song was completely unfamiliar to him. It was probably the original work of that person.
The lyrics are half Chinese and half English, the singer's voice is gentle and clear, and the words are easy to recognize.
The map to wonderland's in a otten tongue
The end point of the compass is only survival. (And pass needles all point "survive")
Qi Liang's heart suddenly trembled. He looked at the man's lowered face, but the singer was so immersed in the music that only the shadow cast by his eyelashes could be seen.
A rough voice came from the bar: "Give me a beer."
Qi Liang suddenly came back to his senses and saw the impatient face of the customer in front of him. The afterimage of the neon light faded away, and the wine glasses made crisp sounds on the bar.
He returned to his life.
Business at the bar was slow and there were only a few audience members, but almost everyone sitting there had their eyes on the singer, including a few hoodlums.
At the end of the performance, the singer bowed to the audience and put his guitar back into his bag.
It was almost one o'clock at this time, and Qi Liang thought he would go home immediately, but he didn't expect him to stare at the bar for a while, and suddenly walked straight towards him.
"What's the strongest liquor here?" he asked.
Qi Liang gave him a cup, and as soon as his hand let go of the cup, he picked it up and drank it all.
"Again," he said.
"Drink slowly," Qi Liang said, "This wine has a strong aftereffect."
"Really?" He raised his cup and smiled at Qi Liang through the glass. "Then I can sleep tonight."
After hearing this, Qi Liang paused as he was pouring the wine, but ultimately remained silent.
The other party looked at him, squinting his eyes in dissatisfaction. Perhaps it was because of the alcohol, his eyes were a little blurry: "At this time, shouldn't the bartender comfort the guests? Where is your philosophy of life?"
Qi Liang lowered his head to wash the cups without looking at him: "You've watched too many movies."
"Well," he drank another gulp, "I'll just use the alcohol to deceive myself."
This seemed to be his limit. After finishing the second cup, he turned and left. When he walked down from the bar seat, he staggered and almost fell. Qi Liang hurried to help him up, and the half-washed cup fell into the sink with a crash. But before Qi Liang could stretch out his hand, he stood up by supporting himself with the chair and continued walking forward, his steps moving crookedly.
Looking at the singer's drunken back, the two thugs who had just been whispering stood up and followed him.
It's none of my business. Qi Liang thought about it and looked at the time. His shift was over.
It's none of my business.
He repeated it three times, closed his eyes, took off his uniform, handed it to the waiter beside him, and hurried out the door.
The figure carrying the guitar had disappeared. Considering the speed of a drunkard, he shouldn't have walked so fast.
He ran to a nearby alley and saw several figures entangled in a dispute.
The thug was pulling at the guitar strap and was about to snatch it away. The singer angrily punched and tried to fight him off, but it was useless. He could only struggle in vain: "No, no, this is all I have now."
Qi Liang gritted his teeth, stepped forward, grabbed the man by the collar, and threw him backwards. He used to work as a goods sorter at the farmers' market. Some of the seafood boxes weighed 100 kilograms, and this man was thrown out by him like a dead grouper. The man fell to the ground, stood up and fought back, but was punched in the face again.
The singer looked at the fallen man, obviously shocked. After a while, he raised his head and looked at Qi Liang with wide eyes: "I thought you were going to continue pretending not to know me."
Qi Liang frowned. He thought the other person was unconscious the whole time, but it turns out he remembered what happened in the hospital?
"Thank you," the singer said, "both times." He adjusted the strap of his guitar, took two steps forward, and stumbled again.
Qi Liang hated himself for causing trouble for himself, and then asked, "Where do you live?"
The singer tilted his head, seemingly pondering the intent of the question. "Yong'an Street," he said.
Qi Liang found an excuse for himself: they were on their way. "Let's go," he said, "let's go back together."
The singer seemed to have no objection to the arrangement and followed him, the guitar on his back making bumps from time to time.
The drunkenness did not dampen the singer's interest in chatting, and he would come up with a new question with every street lamp he passed.
"How long have you worked there?"
"Three months."
"Is it the late shift every day?"
"Um."
"Why did the boss hire you? It's definitely not because of your eloquence," the singer suddenly walked in front of him, raised his head, and observed him carefully, "Because you are handsome?"
Qi Liang looked down at him, then walked around him and continued walking forward: "I keep the accounts correctly."
"Oh," the singer turned around and followed, "So you're good at remembering numbers?"
"good."
The other party thought for a moment and said, "212738467593."
Qi Liang frowned.
"Prove it to me."
Qi Liang didn't like this kind of question-based conversation, but for some reason, he repeated it in his mind and reported the number.
The singer's eyes widened. “Wow, that’s amazing,” he said. “Can you tell me that again?”
Qi Liang repeated it helplessly, and the singer nodded with admiration. "That's great," he said. "Now you won't forget it. Take away the first digit and it's my phone number."
Qi Liang turned his head and saw the other person narrowing his eyes and staring at him with a smile.
He had no intention of messing with this beautiful man, his life was already in tatters, there was no room for any other emotions except suffocation and despair.
However, he agreed to go back together, so he continued to walk beside him and listened to him continue asking questions.
"Is my song good?" the other party asked.
Qi Liang said “hmm”.
"Which one sounds the best?" The other party pressed further.
Qi Liang thought for a moment and said: Pass that sentence. ”
"Ah, do you understand?"
This was a bit offensive, as if a bartender shouldn't have such a high level of English. However, the pain in Qi Liang's heart did not come from this.
He just suddenly realized that he still remembered those words he had studied hard, that he had once had a colorful campus life, and that he had imagined a bright future and returning home in glory.
Then... he raised his head and arrived at Yong'an Street.
Twenty years ago, Yong'an Street was once prosperous, but as the business district moved to the new district, it declined year by year. The only relic is the artificial river at the end of the street, which has a beautiful name, called "Yingyue River".
Under the dim street lights, the shadows of two people overlapped and dragged long on the iron door of the shop.
"I live there," the singer suddenly stopped and pointed to a room on the left side of the second floor. As if he was afraid that it was too dark and Qi Liang couldn't make it out clearly, he added, "It's right above the bookstore. Do you see it?"
Qi Liang didn't look up. Why would he remember the address of a man he had just met?
However, this place is very close to the house he rented, only half a street away.
"Goodbye." Qi Liang said.
Just as he was about to leave, the singer suddenly squatted down. He was afraid that the other person would vomit because he drank too much, but the other person just put his index finger to his lips and made a "hush" sound.
"There are cats here," the singer raised his head and whispered, "I just saw one, a calico and an orange-and-white one."
"Well," Qi Liang was confused by his erratic topic, "They live in the bushes at the back."
The singer lowered his head again and searched carefully, but the cat seemed to have disappeared. "Do you have any cans?" he asked.
can? "There's a fast food restaurant across the street," Qi Liang said, "I sometimes have to come over to feed them the leftover meat from the customers."
"Oh..." the singer said, "Then can you call me when you feed the cat?"
Why does this person always talk to himself?
The singer looked at him for a long time without answering, then stretched out his hand to him.
"What?"
"Can you give me a hand?" the singer said, "I feel dizzy and can't stand up."
He held the other person's wrist and pulled it upwards. The action was not gentle, but the other person's hand slid down and held his, as if they were holding hands.
He let go after realizing this, and the singer withdrew his hand naturally, as if he didn't notice the physical contact. "See you at the bar tomorrow."
Qi Liang turned around and walked towards home, but after a few steps, the other party called him again.
"What happened again?"
The singer looked at him for a moment, blinked, and said, "I don't know your name yet."
Qi Liang told him that he could find out from other waiters anyway.
He listened, tilted his head and thought for a while, then stretched out his hand: "Which liang?"
Distracted by his action, Qi Liang forgot that he could directly say "木" and "京", and used his fingers to write the strokes in the palm of his hand. He did this to confirm the name, but he kept looking at Qi Liang's face.
"The starling of starling," he said, his cheeks showing two dimples, "My name is Meng Jining."
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