Before returning to the hotel that evening, Qi Bailu saw the fish they had caught. It was indeed a massive thing; a single person could hardly lift the bucket. However, because Ruan Qiuji had taken a work call, the task of carrying it fell to Qi Bailu and Zheng Kunyu.
Qi Bailu was a head shorter than him, so the red plastic bucket naturally tilted to one side between them. They hadn't gone far before the water splashed out, soaking Qi Bailu’s beach shorts. The fabric clung tightly to his thigh, and the fish thrashed about with renewed vigor, as if trying to leap out of the bucket.
The sound of the splashing water drew Zheng Kunyu’s gaze downward. Seeing the trail of wet spots Qi Bailu was leaving behind him, Zheng Kunyu said, "Let go."
Qi Bailu gave him a questioning look and released his grip. Zheng Kunyu shifted the handle to his other hand, clearly intending to carry it alone.
Qi Bailu asked in surprise, "Can you manage...?"
"Better than you," Zheng Kunyu replied flatly.
At the very least, he didn't spill any water while walking alone.
The fish weighed at least twenty pounds. Qi Bailu watched him take a few steps before walking back over to grab the handle again. "Do you think you're Popeye the Sailor?"
Zheng Kunyu paused. "I don't eat spinach."
He actually knew how to play along with a joke now. Qi Bailu remarked, "Spinach has high nutritional value."
Zheng Kunyu glanced at the top of his head, his gaze lingering there for a moment, as if to say: *With all that nutrition, I haven't seen you grow any taller.*
Qi Bailu pushed the man's gaze back with a look of his own, but as he retracted his eyes, he noticed Ruan Qiuji trailing behind them. Ruan Qiuji was holding his phone, but he hadn't made a sound for quite a while.
No wonder he had felt a chill down his spine just now. Qi Bailu turned his head back and stared blankly ahead. Before him was a sunset like a raging fire; half the sky and the clouds looked as though they had been soaked in red watermelon juice, staining the vast, mirror-like surface of the sea a deep crimson.
Red—peach red, rose red, rust red. Even the plastic bucket in their hands was red. *A dangerous color,* Qi Bailu thought subconsciously.
They handed the fish over to the hotel, and eventually, it was served as a dish on their dinner table. They ate at a restaurant right by the beach. By nightfall, the outdoor umbrellas had been folded up, standing on the sand like skeletal trees.
Night had fully descended. Looking out, there was only the pitch-black sky and sea, the two blending into one. This beach felt like the center of the entire universe, a lighthouse beam shining in the midst of an infinite void. The neighboring tables were lively; many people had gathered by the bar to sing and dance, so after finishing their meal, the four of them sat there to have a few drinks.
After a while, two Black men with guitars sat on high stools and began to play. Surprisingly, they sang in Spanish—a quiet, sorrowful rendition of "Cucurrucucú paloma." The notes were crystal clear. Qi Bailu listened in a daze. The people gathered around the singers, whether sitting or standing, listened with rapt attention. Though they were of different skin colors and spoke different languages, in this moment, they were all moved by the same song.
Qi Bailu even saw a girl diagonally across from him lower her head to wipe away tears.
Perhaps he was sleepy, or perhaps he was just tired, but by the end of the song, he could hardly keep his eyes open. Unconsciously, he closed them and leaned his head against Zheng Kunyu’s shoulder. Zheng Kunyu sat beside him, his eyes cutting to the side to look at Qi Bailu's face, but his body remained perfectly still.
The Tiare flower garland around Qi Bailu’s neck still gave off a faint fragrance. It had weakened, mingled with the scent of alcohol, but up close, it was still intoxicating. Zheng Kunyu thought that even in sleep, his face looked like a gardenia.
Lin Yuewei, sitting across the table, glanced at them before returning her attention to the music. Beside her, Ruan Qiuji kept his head down, staring at the glass in front of him; it was hard to tell if he was listening to the song or if he was simply tipsy. When the song ended, the audience burst into applause. Fearing he would wake Qi Bailu, Zheng Kunyu only clapped twice symbolically. Ruan Qiuji seemed to finally react then; he looked up with a faint smile, watching the singers as he clapped unhurriedly.
By the time Qi Bailu woke up, Lin Yuewei and Ruan Qiuji were already gone, and a new crowd had replaced the drinkers and dancers. He and Zheng Kunyu returned to their room. Because he had napped for a bit, Qi Bailu wasn't that sleepy anymore. When Zheng Kunyu came to undress him, he even remembered to say, "Be gentle."
But "gentle" wasn't in Zheng Kunyu's vocabulary. Listening to the constant crashing of the waves outside the window, Qi Bailu thought that this was how the world changed over ages—even the sturdiest rocks would be shattered by the surging tides. Day and night, the sea never ran dry.
Much later—perhaps two hours had passed—he lay limp in Zheng Kunyu’s arms. Zheng Kunyu had turned off the lights, but the moonlight was bright enough to illuminate their faces clearly.
Neither of them spoke. Zheng Kunyu fell asleep quickly, but Qi Bailu found himself unable to drift off. He faced Zheng Kunyu, studying him for a while by the cascading moonlight. Perhaps because of the moon's soft glow, Qi Bailu felt that his features were exceptionally handsome—like jade that had been blessed.
Even now in sleep, and even though they had just had a very satisfying time, Zheng Kunyu’s brow was slightly furrowed. He wasn't completely relaxed. Seen this way, there was a trace of weariness between his brows—the kind of weariness that comes from being unable to resist the erosive passage of time.
The fatal thing was that, in an instant, Qi Bailu’s heart suddenly stirred for that weariness. Why? Was it because that was his true face, hidden beneath his polished exterior? He reached out his index finger and touched the space between Zheng Kunyu’s brows, very lightly stroking his eyebrow. It was as if he had only realized today that the man had "sword-shaped" brows.
After another long while, Qi Bailu still felt no urge to sleep. He stared at Zheng Kunyu for a long time before reaching for his phone on the nightstand to check the time. The moment he turned it on, he saw an unread WeChat message from Ruan Qiuji. It read:
*Want some ice cream?* (A blank line, then another message) *I'm waiting for you downstairs.*
Qi Bailu froze. He looked closely at the timestamp; it had been sent three hours ago. At that time, he had just finished his shower when he was caught by Zheng Kunyu, leaving him no time to check his phone.
Qi Bailu replied: *Sorry, I just saw this. Let's do it tomorrow.*
He waited a few minutes, but there was no reply. Fearing the light from the screen would disturb Zheng Kunyu, he rolled over and typed: *Are you still there?*
Still no response.
*He couldn't have actually waited there for three whole hours, could he?* It was already midnight. Qi Bailu felt he had to call and check. He couldn't help but sit up, quietly pulling on a T-shirt and turning to get out of bed. Suddenly, Zheng Kunyu grabbed his wrist.
"Where are you going?"
Qi Bailu looked back at him, startled. Zheng Kunyu’s eyes were closed, and his voice was thick with sleep. He had likely been woken by the movement and was still half-conscious.
"To the bathroom," Qi Bailu whispered after a moment's hesitation.
Zheng Kunyu didn't let go immediately, so Qi Bailu gently moved his hand away. He waited a moment to make sure Zheng Kunyu, lying on his side, was truly still again before quietly picking up his pants and putting them on. He stepped into his slippers and slipped out the door.
As soon as he reached the hallway, he called Ruan Qiuji. It wasn't for any other reason than the fact that accidents often happen when traveling; he needed to make sure the man was okay or hadn't run into some trouble. He called several times in a row, but Ruan Qiuji didn't pick up. Qi Bailu began to lose his composure.
Redialing once more, Qi Bailu walked toward the elevator. The voice on the other end repeatedly informed him that "the user you have dialed is temporarily unavailable." He pressed the button for the first floor and waited for the elevator to slowly descend.
What he didn't know was that at that very moment, in a corner of the first-floor bar, Ruan Qiuji glanced down at his phone screen. He flipped the phone face-down on the table with total indifference, as if the restless, urgent ringing didn't bother him in the least.
The blonde, blue-eyed bartender watched the East Asian man before him with curiosity. He saw what looked like a smile on the man's face, yet it also seemed like nothing of the sort. In the bartender's eyes, it was a classic, mysterious Eastern expression, with a hint of gloom like gathering clouds hanging over his brow. Ruan Qiuji’s cigarette was nearly finished. He pushed his glass forward, waiting for the bartender to refill it.
The bartender said in English, "The same again? This is a strong spirit. If you keep drinking, you'll get drunk."
Ruan Qiuji reached for the glass with the hand holding his cigarette and smiled gently. "Drunk? Not yet."
***
