Chapter 8 - Red Wine and Cinnamon
When Chen Jinyue drifted awake, the room was swathed in a thick, suffocating darkness. She had a vague recollection of falling asleep around one or two in the afternoon when the world outside was still drenched in brilliant daylight. Waking up to this pitch-black void birthed a visceral, jarring sensation—the haunting illusion of having been abandoned by time itself.
The apartment was eerily silent. No light seeped through the crack beneath her door; the hallway remained a cavern of shadows. It seemed the house was empty.
She lay there for several minutes, letting the darkness press against her as she slowly gathered the heavy, stagnant emotions that had accumulated since noon. Reaching out, her fingers brushed against the cold glass of her phone. It was 7:30 PM. In the six hours she had been unconscious, only one person had reached out to her.
*“How have these first few days back in the country been? Want to meet up tonight?”* The message was from Ren Xiaoxiao.
Jinyue and Ren Xiaoxiao had been classmates for twelve years—three years longer than the standard period of compulsory education. Had Jinyue not moved abroad after high school, that streak might have continued indefinitely. Back in their school days, Xiaoxiao had been the undisputed "popularity queen"—vibrant, beautiful, and possessed of a generous spirit that drew people to her like moths to a flame. Yet, of all those people, only Ren Xiaoxiao had remained by Jinyue’s side through the years. During her six years abroad, Jinyue had completely failed to maintain her social circles back home. It was only Xiaoxiao who, despite the grueling time difference, would stay up to listen to her vent whenever the isolation of foreign life became too much to bear.
Realizing she had nothing better to do and knowing sleep would be impossible now, Jinyue tapped out a brief reply: *“Okay.”*
*“You finally deigned to reply! I just finished dinner!”* Xiaoxiao shot back instantly.
*“I just woke up. Let’s go grab a drink,”* Jinyue suggested.
*“Deal.”*
Jinyue flicked on the light and made her way toward the living room, only to find that Lin Yunsheng was, in fact, home.
Just like the last time, Yunsheng had lit a single floor lamp that cast a warm, amber glow over the corner of the room. She was sitting on the floor, her back resting against the sofa, clutching a crumpled blanket to her chest. She wasn't working tonight; instead, she was immersed in a book. On the coffee table, the usual glass of wine had been replaced by a simple bottle of mineral water.
When Yunsheng looked up, she didn't seem startled as she had before. This gave Jinyue the distinct, uncomfortable impression that she had been waiting for her.
Jinyue wasn't entirely sure why she had come out to the living room in the first place. Perhaps she just wanted to feel the night breeze on the balcony, or maybe she just needed to pace. But seeing Yunsheng sitting there, she decided against crossing the room. She pivoted and retreated into the kitchen.
“Xiao—” Yunsheng started, her voice soft. “You’re awake. Are you hungry?”
Sometimes, Jinyue felt that Yunsheng acted like a clumsy elder relative. She clearly had a mountain of things she wanted to say, yet for various reasons, she couldn't find the words. Her only way of expressing care was to ask if Jinyue had eaten.
“I’m not hungry,” Jinyue replied without stopping, her back turned to Yunsheng. She took a glass from the cabinet and poured herself some water. In this world, there wasn't just "tactical drinking"; sometimes, "tactical pouring" was a necessary maneuver to avoid a conversation.
Glass in hand, she turned to head back to her room. From the corner of her eye, she saw Yunsheng stand up.
“Can we talk for a moment?” Yunsheng asked.
“Where’s Mom?” Jinyue asked, forcefully derailing the topic. There was nothing to talk about, and she certainly didn't have the heart for it.
“...She went out to play Mahjong.” Those few seconds were all Jinyue needed to reach her door.
“Mhm,” Jinyue grunted, closing the door firmly behind her.
It wasn't that she wanted to give Yunsheng the cold shoulder, but as she reflected on her first week back in Haicheng, she realized that neither her sleep schedule nor her emotions had stabilized. She was already plagued by doubts regarding her decision to return, and she was actively avoiding setting a date for her inevitable departure. She didn't know what Yunsheng wanted to say, but she wasn't willing to risk hearing that Yunsheng was considering a future with someone else.
Who would travel thousands of miles just to hear a definitive, *“I am leaving you behind; I am leaving our past”*? It felt utterly unnecessary.
She performed a quick wash, applied a layer of light makeup, and picked out a slouchy, oversized sweater paired with loose jeans. She grabbed her small crossbody bag and took a deep breath before stepping out of her room again. *Please, don't let her speak to me.*
She hurried to the entryway and crouched down to change her shoes.
“Where are you going?” It seemed the heavens hadn't heard her prayer.
“Out for a drink,” Jinyue said. She tied her laces, stood up, opened the door, and closed it behind her in one fluid, practiced motion.
For the second time that night, Lin Yunsheng was left standing alone in the silence.
The moment Jinyue stepped onto the street, the biting cold made her shiver violently. She cursed herself for not calling a car from inside the warm apartment. If it weren't for the suffocating atmosphere Yunsheng created, she wouldn't be freezing out here. A taxi pulled up beside her; she slid into the backseat, gave the driver the address, and tried to stop her trembling.
Meeting Ren Xiaoxiao happened half an hour later. Despite their years of friendship, they had only video-chatted a handful of times; most of their interaction was through text. Yet, the moment Jinyue stepped out of the car and saw the silhouette of a girl in a long dress and a heavy overcoat, she knew it was her.
Jinyue walked up and tapped her on the shoulder. Xiaoxiao turned around, and a cloud of cigarette smoke billowed directly into Jinyue’s face.
“Ren Xiaoxiao!” Jinyue coughed, waving the smoke away and glaring at her friend.
“What? Who told you to sneak up on me right when I was exhaling?” Xiaoxiao stubbed out the cigarette, tossed it into the street-side bin, and looked Jinyue up and down. “You wore *that* to come see me?”
“I didn't bring many clothes back with me. Come on, let’s go in.” Jinyue led the way into the bar, and Xiaoxiao hurried to catch up, hooking her arm through Jinyue’s.
They weren't looking for a wild night out. Xiaoxiao had chosen a "clear bar"—a quiet spot conducive to conversation. The place wasn't crowded, and there were even empty tables. It made sense; after all, who spends their Saturday night sitting in a bar at 8:30 PM?
They settled at a small table. Xiaoxiao flipped through the menu. “Want some mulled wine? You were shivering like a leaf just now.”
“Sure,” Jinyue agreed. It felt surreal; despite the years apart, the atmosphere between them was as comfortable as if they had just grabbed dinner the night before.
Xiaoxiao signaled a waiter. “One hot red wine, and... a Zombie.” She flipped to the last page. “You haven't eaten yet, have you?”
“No.”
“Then give us an order of fish and chips, too. Thanks.” She closed the menu and handed it back.
“Are you crazy? Fish and chips?” Jinyue rolled her eyes.
“What? I thought you’d want a taste of your ‘hometown’ specialties. If you wanted something else, you should have said so. We could’ve gone to a food stall for grilled pork loin and Qingdao beer. Now you’re getting picky.”
Jinyue realized that while she was away, Xiaoxiao’s talent for passive-aggressive snark had grown exponentially. Still, except for the moments she was the target of it, Jinyue didn't mind. In fact, she admired Xiaoxiao’s unapologetic sense of self.
“Alright, level with me,” Xiaoxiao said, her tone shifting. “What did you really come back for?”
“You know why...” Jinyue muttered.
Xiaoxiao was the only person who knew about the "messy business" between Jinyue and Lin Yunsheng. Though she had only become a confidante after things started falling apart, Jinyue wouldn't have survived her final days in China before moving abroad without her.
“And? How is it going?”
“Not great.”
“Hmph.” Xiaoxiao picked up her phone, swiped to turn on 'Do Not Disturb,' and placed it face down on the table. “Not surprising. Of all people, you had to fall for your own sister.”
“She’s not my biological sister,” Jinyue whispered in a weak attempt at defense.
“If you ask me, it would be better if she were. At least then there’d be a bond you couldn't break. Or, you could be like normal people—break up and become strangers. But this? You two are just going to be entangled for a lifetime.”
The waiter arrived with the drinks. Jinyue took a desperate gulp of the hot red wine and immediately winced as it scalded her tongue.
“Slow down, you have zero tolerance anyway. At least wait for the fries. Hahaha!” Xiaoxiao laughed at her, but Jinyue ignored the teasing.
“Let’s not talk about me. What about you?”
“Me? I’m just busy with work. What else is there?”
“Not dating?”
“Occasionally.”
“That’s nice. You have so many options.” Jinyue paused, debating whether to voice the thought heavy in her chest. She had tried to change the subject, but the words slipped out like a weary sigh. “Unlike me.”
Xiaoxiao picked up her straw and stirred her colorful, layered cocktail, watching the different alcohols bleed into one another. “Actually, you have plenty of options too. It’s just that every single time, you choose Lin Yunsheng.”
Jinyue didn't argue. She stared at the cinnamon stick floating in her glass—it wouldn't sink, yet it wouldn't quite float, much like her own sense of displacement. She felt a wave of profound desolation. “But she never chooses me.”
“That... remains... to be seen,” Xiaoxiao said, her voice odd and deliberate.
Jinyue waited for her to finish the thought, but Xiaoxiao’s gaze had already drifted elsewhere. Jinyue followed her line of sight toward the entrance.
There, holding her overcoat in her hand, stood Lin Yunsheng. She had walked in alone.
