The Tenth Pill

Rhythm

“Now?” Gui Tingyue blurted out, her eyes widening, sparkling like stars.

Chen Shi said, “It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“No—” Gui Tingyue shook her head. “I want to go.”

Chen Shi, never one to dawdle, asked: “Then let’s go?”

Gui Tingyue covered her cheeks with her hands. “But I’m not wearing any makeup,” she said, then touched her hair. “And I haven’t washed my hair, it’s a bit greasy.”

Chen Shi said, “I’ll wait for you.”

“Never mind the makeup,” Gui Tingyue said, glancing towards the bathroom. “I’ll just wash my face and change my clothes.”

Chen Shi nodded. “Mm.”

Gui Tingyue felt the need to explain her lack of “polish” and “formality”: “It’s because I don’t want to keep you waiting, and besides, no one will see me this late at night.”

Chen Shi nodded again.

Faced with his unchanging reaction, she reversed her attitude: “Can’t you say something to comfort me? Is this the attitude you should have when inviting someone out? You’re not doing it right at all.”

Chen Shi frowned: “What do you want to hear?”

Gui Tingyue: “You look beautiful already, no need to go to so much trouble.”

Chen Shi pulled the corner of his mouth with a hint of a smile: “I look beautiful already, no need to go to so much trouble.”

Gui Tingyue laughed at his words: “Well, close enough. With you as an accessory, people will think I’m quite an extraordinary girl when we walk together.”

Impressed by her roundabout way of complimenting him while praising herself, Chen Shi conceded: “Go on then, don’t take too long.”

Gui Tingyue responded with an “Oh” and turned to leave.

She got ready quickly, tying her hair into a ponytail and changing into an apricot yellow dress before emerging from her room. She wasn’t strikingly beautiful, but her small face and features were well-proportioned and pleasantly arranged. In their few meetings, she had always been unadorned, pure and clear.

Her bearing was her best quality. She walked with a light grace that wasn’t forced, her legs long and straight. The overall effect reminded him of the first time he saw Little Dragon Maiden from the Ancient Tomb Sect on TV as a child.

She was undoubtedly outstanding, otherwise he wouldn’t have recognized her so quickly.

However, her appearance belied her nature. Though outwardly graceful, she was inwardly mischievous, fond of spying and tailing people, and unparalleled good at flirting.

When she walked up to him with a cheerful “I’m ready,” Chen Shi pulled himself out of his scrutiny and analysis of Gui Tingyue and walked out the door with her.

Outside, the night had fallen, and the jade-white round lamps in the flowerbeds on either side lit up like guiding lights.

Gui Tinyue walked beside Chen Shi, her expression relaxed: “Where are we going? How do we get there?”

Chen Shi glanced sideways at her, not answering the first question: “How do you want to go?”

“I don’t know,” Gui Tingyue also looked back at him. “But last time I saw…”

Chen Shi: “Hmm?”

Gui Tingyue pointed towards the east gate of the community: “There are shared bikes at the entrance.”

Chen Shi asked: “You want to ride?”

Gui Tingyue nodded: “Do you?”

Chen Shi said: “I don’t mind.”

He glanced at her outfit. “But won’t your dress be inconvenient?”

Gui Tingyue looked down at her knee-length skirt. “This length should be fine.”

Chen Shi didn’t say more.

When they arrived at the gate, they each scanned a bike. While Gui Tingyue was still figuring out how to unlock hers, Chen Shi had already smoothly pulled his out with one hand, stabilized it, and then walked over to her side.

She bent over to get close to the QR code, mumbling the steps, looking very much like a near-sighted old lady struggling to read a newspaper.

Chen Shi watched her with hidden amusement, pressing his lips together to suppress a smile before asking: “Need any help?”

Gui Tingyue turned and waved him off. “No need.”

So Chen Shi stood there: “How long has it been since you went out?”

“I haven’t left the community since I moved here,” Gui Tingyue replied nonchalantly, then retorted: “Have you gone out?”

Chen Shi paused, realizing he hadn’t either.

Two minutes later, Gui Tingyue pushed her bike out to the sound of the successful unlock prompt. She straddled it, one foot on the ground, looking smug: “See? I did it.”

Chen Shi made no comment and went to get his own.

At this hour, city traffic was congested. The slow flow of vehicles gathered like stars, the people inside the cars were surely impatient, but the steel forest that competed fiercely during the day seemed particularly docile now.

The two rode one in front of the other in the non-motorized lane.

Amidst the glittering lights, Chen Shi watched Gui Tingyue’s back.

In the wind, her skirt billowed gently, like the half-open wings of a butterfly.

Gui Tingyue also turned back to look at Chen Shi from time to time, flashing him a big smile. Her face was bare, her black hair floating beside her face as she excitedly called out for him to look at certain sights.

Chen Shi rarely responded, but his eyes would follow her indications.

After a while, as the crowd thinned, Gui Tingyue quietly slowed down, pedaling three times and stopping, until they were riding side by side.

Gui Tingyue took the opportunity to show off her special skill, riding no-hands for five seconds, spreading her arms and even wow~ wow~ing to catch his attention.

Chen Shi glanced at her and lost all desire to comment on her childish behavior.

But when she gripped the handlebars again, she had to ask: “Impressive, right?”

Chen Shi said: “You sound like a female gorilla.”

Gui Tingyue: “Please focus on my amazing skill, not the background noise.”

Curious, she asked: “But where are we going anyway?”

Chen Shi looked straight ahead: “Turn right up ahead and we’ll be there.”

Gui Tingyue hadn’t expected at all that he would bring her to a karaoke place.

Following him into a small private room, Gui Tingyue was skeptical: “Just the two of us alone isn’t appropriate.”

Chen Shi looked back: “Nothing you’re hoping for will happen.”

Gui Tingyue: “……”

He walked directly to the coffee table, picked up one of the microphones, and tossed it to her.

Gui Tingyue caught it with both hands, standing there not understanding his meaning.

Chen Shi glanced at the song selection screen near him: “Sing.”

Gui Tingyue suddenly understood: “So by ‘finding something to do,’ you meant bringing me to sing?”

Chen Shi nodded.

Gui Tingyue happily tapped the base of the microphone against her palm: “You don’t mind my noise anymore?”

Chen Shi said: “I’ll get used to it after a few songs.”

Gui Tingyue’s smile widened. She turned on the echo and brought the microphone to her lips. “Oh, but now I’ll feel embarrassed.”

“Wait.”

Chen Shi bent down and arranged the cups and plates on the table. Finally, he turned on the other microphone, propped it up with a tilted drink menu, and set it in front of him.

Then, he stood up and said, “I’ll help you find the rhythm and the melody. Just sing.”

Gui Tingyue watched unblinkingly as he left the room and returned with something in his hand.

He sat back on the sofa, partially hidden in the shadows. The watery light flowed over his face. He was very fair, like a sea spirit from the depths of a coral reef, strikingly handsome.

He hooked the trash can beside him with his long leg, flipped it over, and tapped it a few times along with the table “instruments”, testing the sound and finding the pitch.

The metal chopsticks became a magic wand in his hand, and entire room was instantly enveloped in his domain and aura.

Gui Tingyue’s heart nearly leaped out of her throat, leaving her momentarily unable to move.

Chen Shi tilted his chin: “Go find a song you like, remove the original vocals, and lower the accompaniment volume.”

Gui Tingyue didn’t move but asked: “Can I sing the one from this afternoon?”

Chen Shi replied: “Sure.”

Gui Tingyue adjusted the settings, cleared her throat, and pressed play. The accompaniment immediately started, and Chen Shi’s movements followed instantly. Though the equipment was random and simple, his powerful beats matched the original accompaniment perfectly, not breaking the immersion at all.

Gui Tingyue was stunned, completely forgetting to start singing.

Chen Shi seemed to have entered a state of flow. He raised his eyelids and reminded her: “Sing.”

Gui Tingyue dared not space out any longer: “I could be your girlfriend

Hey! Hey! You! You!

I know that you like me

……”

At first, she struggled to keep up with the tune, but under his confident lead, she gradually found her rhythm and melody.

Gui Tingyue gradually became more unrestrained. When one song ended, she wasn’t satisfied – she immediately queued up several more upbeat songs, both in Chinese and foreign languages.

She jumped excitedly, shaking her head and swaying, endlessly.

Chen Shi glanced at his “drum” and looked at her from time to time, infected by her enthusiasm, the corners of his mouth slightly curved.

Gui Tingyue suddenly stopped singing in the middle of the song: “How come you can play along to every song? Is there any song you can’t play?”

Chen Shi’s expression suddenly darkened: “Can you focus? If you were the lead singer, I’d be scolding you by now.”

Gui Tingyue retorted: “It’s not like we’re performing on stage, why so serious?”

Chen Shi fell silent.

He made a new discovery – Gui Tingyue’s dance moves were not as haphazard as the average person’s. Her posture was visibly professional, and she had a habit of standing on her toes, and when she was particularly excited, she would even do one or two spins.

There were clues to follow.

“Gui Tingyue,” Chen Shi called her.

Gui Tingyue retorted: “It’s not like we’re performing on stage, why so serious?”

“Did you learn dance before?”

She froze, a flicker of panic in her eyes, before turning his words back on him: “Can you focus? If you were the drummer, I’d be scolding you by now.”

Chen Shi laughed and said no more.

This small interlude hardly even counted as a flaw, and it did not diminish the joy and release this night brought to Gui Tingyue.

It had been a long time since she’d felt such full and genuine happiness.

A smile seemed to have been sewn to her face from then on. From riding back home to showering and returning to her room, Gui Tingyue’s lips never stopped smiling. She even swayed her hips as she glided, constantly humming “hey hey you you”.

After lying down, she opened WeChat and sent Chen Shi a message: Are you asleep?

Chen Shi didn’t reply.

Gui Tingyue: Thank you for today.

Chen Shi was still silent.

Gui Tingyue: I’m so happy.

She flooded the screen with tearful thank you’s, wishing she could send him thousands of words, a whole night of gratitude to him.

Chen Shi was clearly startled, replying with three question marks for the first time: ???

Gui Tingyue couldn’t control her tears of gratitude: I just want to thank you.

Chen Shi: Don’t exaggerate.

Gui Tingyue’s nose stung: It’s not an exaggeration. I’m so happy that I want to cry, do you understand? Even saying it 500 times wouldn’t be too much, it’s all because of you.

The chat box went quiet for a few seconds. Gui Tingyue stopped holding back her tears when she saw his next two replies, letting the sparkling joy return to her eyes.

Chen Shi: No need to thank me.

Chen Shi: Just pampering a fan.

The author has something to say:

Hey! Hey! You! You!