Chu Lai didn’t have many friends. From childhood to adulthood, the only person who transitioned from a classmate to a friend was his college roommate, Liu Yuan. Due to work, they were both in the same city, but they rarely met up. Liu Yuan was lively and loved social gatherings, unlike Chu Lai, who avoided company-organized events unless absolutely necessary, preferring to stay home alone.

It was almost ten o’clock. This area, being part of the old city, wasn’t particularly bustling anymore. It was evident that the little bar had put a lot of effort into its marketing. When Chu Lai followed the navigation to this place, he hadn’t expected the surrounding area to be so down-to-earth, with food stalls covered by blue canopies lining the street all the way down the alley, reminding him of his high school days in this very neighborhood.

Chu Lai ordered some grilled shrimp on a hot plate. When the owner brought it over, it was sizzling with heat. He didn’t unwrap his chopsticks right away but instead took a photo first.

The barbecue stall was doing good business, with several tables of customers seated around white plastic tables. The wind was cold in October, and the plastic sheets of the windbreaks fogged up, reflecting the lights from the shop across the street, creating a blurry backdrop.

While taking the picture, Chu Lai inevitably captured the man across from him, still dressed in his suit. After snapping the shot, he showed it to Cen Wei, “Sorry, does this bother you?”

He had chosen a blurred background, so it wasn’t clear what was in the photo. Cen Wei shook his head.

Perhaps it was because of Cen Wei’s sharp appearance in such an environment that the owner, bringing over the second round of food, couldn’t help but ask, “Are you two a couple?”

Before Cen Wei could reply, Chu Lai quickly said, “No.”

He opened a bottle of alcohol and poured a drink for Cen Wei. After the owner left, he asked, “What’s your surname?”

Despite the simple setup of the street stall, Chu Lai found it more relaxing than the bar, his eyebrows noticeably less furrowed as he reached out for a grilled green pepper.

“Just Cen,” came the response.

As they spoke, both reached for the same skewer of grilled green pepper.

Cen Wei let go, but Chu Lai didn’t hesitate, asking instead, “You like grilled green peppers too?”

He had noticed earlier that Cen Wei’s gaze lingered on the peppers, though with some hesitation.

Cen Wei: “I went to high school here for a year and tried it once. Can’t say I love it.”

The man was tall and had striking features. Chu Lai had gotten a glimpse of his ex-boyfriend back in the bar, and now looking at Cen Wei, he thought the two made a pretty fitting pair—both carried an air of wealth.

However, Cen Wei had a naturally imposing aura, his voice deep and resonant. Even without frowning, he exuded a sharpness that made people hesitant to approach; when he did frown, it only intensified.

Someone like him was clearly from a different world than Chu Lai. In the past, Chu Lai wouldn’t have initiated a conversation.

But today’s coincidence allowed him to break from his usual restraint. His dream of living an ordinary life, working an ordinary job, and having an ordinary relationship had been shattered by Shen Quanzhang, ruining a major chapter of that dream. So he didn’t mind this night being a bit extraordinary.

Besides, the street barbecue stall was still very ordinary, and the grilled green peppers still tasted the way he remembered.

After getting together with Shen Quanzhang, Chu Lai hadn’t eaten grilled green peppers again because his ex was allergic to them, treating them like poison.

Chu Lai nodded and casually asked, “Which high school?”

His voice was pleasant, with a lazy drawl that gave a sense of ease, as if he could lie down and nap at any moment. This was in stark contrast to the tense energy that seemed to radiate from Cen Wei. Even though they were sitting at the same plastic table, it felt like they belonged to completely different worlds.

Cen Wei had just rushed back from another city. The breakup didn’t surprise him at all.

After finishing an inspection at a factory, he flew back to S City and took a taxi to the location sent by Shen Ke. When Shen Ke admitted to cheating with his childhood friend, Cen Wei remained eerily calm. In fact, the first time he saw a picture of Shen Ke and his childhood friend together, he had felt nothing.

To his circle of friends, though, it seemed as if a cloud of betrayal loomed over him.

The man’s hair, originally slicked back, now hung loosely, giving him a rugged look under the dim light of the stall, making his sharp features stand out even more.

Watching someone like him eat a skewer of grilled green peppers was a rare sight. Chu Lai poured another drink and listened as the man finally answered.

“Yangchun No. 2 High School.”

Chu Lai nodded. “I went to Yangchun No. 2 High School too. It’s pretty much the only school around here.”

He glanced at the barbecue stall’s sign, barely visible through the fogged-up windbreak. “The owner used to set up a stall right outside the school gate.”

The unique taste of the grilled green peppers brought back long-forgotten memories for Cen Wei. He grunted in acknowledgment. “Small world.”

Chu Lai agreed. “Very small world. I guess we’re both unromantic people.”

He scoffed lightly, gripping the plastic cup. The sake inside looked like water, but when it went down, it was as sharp as a blade, stinging more than the green peppers.

Cen Wei hadn’t been paying attention, but from his angle, he caught a glimpse of the younger man’s wrist.

Chu Lai’s hoodie sleeves were perfectly fitted, and when he grabbed the cup, the sleeve rode up slightly, revealing a red mole on his wrist, which contrasted sharply with the bright red of the windbreak, drawing Cen Wei’s attention and softening the man’s otherwise cool demeanor.

Cen Wei asked, “What’s your name?”

Chu Lai was resting his head on his hand, chewing on a pepper. His voice was muffled as he replied, “Chu Lai. The ‘Lai’ with the three water radicals.”

“And you? What’s the full name?”

“Cen Wei. The ‘Wei’ with the grass radical.”

Chu Lai gave a soft “Oh” without any intention of clinking glasses. “Like the color blue.”

It took Cen Wei a moment to realize that Chu Lai had just formed a word.

Wei Lan—blue.

He chuckled, taking a sip of his drink.

Cen Wei wasn’t much of a drinker, but the stranger he had just met was definitely a heavyweight.

Pairing strong alcohol with barbecue, taking a bite and then gasping from the heat, Chu Lai’s pale, jade-like face gradually flushed, though his eyes remained clear.

Chu Lai casually asked, “How old are you, Mr. Cen?”

“Twenty-nine,” Cen Wei answered.

Chu Lai glanced at him and shook his head. “Sorry, I thought you were in your thirties.”

Instead of getting angry, Cen Wei asked, “How about you? Still in school?”

“I’ve been working for a few years now.”

Cen Wei’s gaze shifted to the backpack resting beside Chu Lai.

His phone case, flipped face down on the table, matched the season perfectly, with an embossed maple leaf that looked very refined.

“I thought you were still a student.”

Their conversation continued in fits and starts.

Originally, Cen Wei hadn’t intended to drink much. Even when discussing business, he would always bring along a secretary who could hold their liquor. His constitution simply couldn’t handle alcohol.

But even the tightest strings need to be loosened at times, and in the presence of someone as laid-back as Chu Lai, he found himself unwittingly drinking more than he planned.

Through their casual exchanges, they shared information.

Chu Lai, 25 years old, had graduated three years ago. He worked at an internet company and had moved into a new apartment three months ago to accommodate his boyfriend’s job, though it was a bit farther from the office.

When Chu Lai complained, even his grumbling sounded pleasant. “Honestly, I’m more worried about my rent than the cheating. My lease is up in half a month, and I have to find a new place.”

The dilemma of splitting rent, furniture, and pets after a breakup was a common problem for cohabiting couples in the city.

From what he could tell, the young man across from him was probably an introvert. With his temperament, Cen Wei would have guessed he had a cat.

But to his surprise, Chu Lai had a dog.

His clear, crisp voice had a natural storytelling cadence, as he rested his head in his hand while repeatedly squeezing and releasing the plastic cup in his hand.

“It’s a hassle,” Cen Wei agreed.

Chu Lai chuckled. “Not as much of a hassle as you. Your boyfriend cheated with your childhood friend. Won’t you still run into them at gatherings?”

Both of them had been cheated on, but while Chu Lai was focused on his rent, Cen Wei seemed even more indifferent. His nonchalant “I don’t mind” made him seem almost enlightened to Chu Lai, though it was more like a “green” enlightenment, given the circumstances.

They talked a bit longer, shifting from relationships to hobbies, and found that 90% of their interests overlapped—even the movies they liked were similar.

After finishing the expensive bottle of 3,000-yuan sake, Chu Lai ordered a more common bottle of Niulanshan. By the time they paid the bill, the alcohol had flushed his face, his usually cool and calm demeanor replaced by a pinkish hue at the corners of his eyes, altering his delicate features.

Despite his own considerable drinking ability, Chu Lai still fared better than Mr. Cen, who stumbled when he stood up, requiring Chu Lai to support him.

The man’s large frame leaned heavily on Chu Lai, and for a moment, Chu Lai felt like he was being pressed down by a wall. Yet, despite the overwhelming sense of weight, there was also a strange sense of security, as if this frame could block the howling wind outside.

When they were scanning the code to pay, the man, leaning on Chu Lai, mumbled, “Just now… didn’t we say I’d… I’d pay?”

He fumbled for his phone, attempting to unlock it, trying three times with facial recognition before accidentally opening a Facetime call, his voice thick with confusion.

Chu Lai stopped him from opening the call. “No need, I’ve already paid. Where do you live? I’ll call a cab and get you home.”

The more time he spent with this man, the more Chu Lai thought that his breakup was a result of style over substance. The guy looked the part but was a total lightweight.

Of the 3,000-yuan sake, Chu Lai had drunk almost the entire bottle, while Cen Wei had only managed half a cup. He didn’t fare much better with the Niulanshan, also only drinking half a cup.

Add it all together, and he hadn’t even had a full glass, yet he was already out of it.

When Chu Lai asked him where he lived, Cen Wei stubbornly insisted, “We agreed.”

He finally unlocked his phone and insisted on scanning the code, “I’ll transfer the money to you.”

Chu Lai was speechless. It was freezing outside, already close to midnight, and he had work in the morning.

He pulled up his contact card and let Cen Wei scan it for his own satisfaction while hailing a cab.

The subway had already stopped running. While waiting for the car to arrive, Chu Lai quickly entered his home address and changed the door lock code for his rented apartment.

He opened WeChat and was bombarded with videos from Shen Quanzhang’s stories.

Caption: “Party till you drop.”

The video content: Shen Quanzhang at a gay bar, brushing up against shirtless dancers.

Chu Lai’s eyes hurt. He closed the WeChat Moments feed again and promptly blocked Shen Quanzhang.

His next plan was to settle the breakup expenses with Shen Quanzhang via email once he got home.

But for now, the most important thing was figuring out where this man beside him lived.

They both reeked of barbecue from sitting under the tent for two hours, and the cologne they wore had faded.

When all of his bangs fell forward, Cen Wei looked a few years younger, his eyes tightly closed—completely different from the way alcohol affected Chu Lai, who wore his inebriation on his face.

Cen Wei didn’t show it on his face. If it weren’t for the smell of alcohol, you wouldn’t even know he was drunk.

Chu Lai asked, “Mr. Cen, where do you live?”

Despite being drunk, it was clear that even in this state, Cen Wei was subconsciously trying to maintain his composure, adjusting his posture every so often.

Unfortunately, he couldn’t fight off the drunkenness and kept leaning on Chu Lai like he was a lamppost, his bangs brushing against Chu Lai’s face, tickling him.

The man mumbled an address, but no matter how much Chu Lai searched, he couldn’t find it.

By the time the car arrived, there was no way to send him home. Chu Lai thought calling the police would be too much, so he had no choice but to take him back to his own place.

After getting home, Chu Lai dropped the man on the floor and collapsed beside him, lying there for a long while.

His dog needed to be walked no matter how late it was. After walking the dog and returning home, Chu Lai received a call from Shen Quanzhang.

He had blocked Shen Quanzhang on WeChat but hadn’t yet gotten around to blocking his phone number. The background noise was loud, and Shen Quanzhang was shouting, “Chu Lai! You actually brought a man home?!”

His voice was hoarse with anger, as if Chu Lai were the one who had cheated.

Chu Lai shut the door, glanced at the well-dressed man still lying on the floor, and then at the indoor security cameras.

He had forgotten that Shen Quanzhang still had access.

His ex shouted, “Feeling guilty, huh?”

“We’re both the same! Chu Lai, let me tell you—”

Chu Lai hung up, opened the camera app, and removed Shen Quanzhang’s access. Then he went to take a shower and go to bed.

Before climbing into bed, Chu Lai couldn’t help but feel a little bad, so he moved the man from the floor to the sofa.

The man was so drunk that he was like a dead weight, only letting out a low grunt when his head hit the edge of the sofa.

By the light of his bedside lamp, Chu Lai took a good look at the man’s face.

His looks were above average, but even though their interests seemed to align perfectly, he still wasn’t Chu Lai’s type.

A lover who was too exceptional would only disrupt his ordinary life. Besides, the way this guy spoke and carried himself didn’t seem like that of a regular person.

No need for any further involvement.

But… they both liked grilled green peppers.

Chu Lai hesitated for a moment before draping an extra blanket over him, then opened WeChat to modify his new contact.

He changed [Cw] to [1013] Blue Coloured Green Peppers.