The weekend Shen Jia went to a concert with his friends, Shi Zhi, as usual, returned to her “uncle’s house.”

Around 4 p.m., before the bar opened, only two staff members were in the room full of tables and chairs, chatting about something while holding their phones.

Shi Zhi pushed open the glass door and entered. One of them, a beautiful woman with wavy curls, looked up lazily, raised her cigarette-holding fingers, and greeted her in a husky voice, “You’re back.”

This bar belonged to Shi Zhi’s uncle. It was an old establishment, once thriving and bringing in decent money for her uncle’s family.

Over the years, the décor and sound system had become outdated, and under the pressure of the ever-emerging trendy nightclubs and clubs, the fact that the bar hadn’t closed yet was a miracle.

A few years ago, her uncle and aunt had failed in an investment venture and couldn’t afford to upgrade the bar anymore. Like other old businesses on the street, they had to market themselves as affordable to barely survive. Staff numbers were cut repeatedly to reduce costs.

The woman with wavy curls was called Wan Ran, the bar’s resident singer.

Sitting next to Wan Ran was Ling Ling, who was half a year younger than Shi Zhi. She was a headstrong girl—the type to dive into a couple’s quarrel among customers just to help argue.

Wan Ran once joked that with Ling Ling’s brain, if Shi Zhi ever sold her, Ling Ling would probably happily help count the money.

The bartender, Lao Qian, had chimed in, saying, “Not just that—after counting the money, she’d probably send Shi Zhi gift boxes during the holidays to say thanks.”

Shi Zhi skillfully walked behind the bar, placed her backpack on a chair, entered the password, and checked the stock of drinks on the computer. “Smoke less, your voice is already like this,” she remarked.

“Down to half a pack a day,” Wan Ran replied, flicking the remaining half of her cigarette into an empty cola can. The sound of the butt hitting water sizzled faintly.

Shi Zhi printed out the stock list, feeling the warmth of the paper fresh from the printer as she walked toward the storage room.

Before entering, she texted Shen Jia, letting him know she was at her uncle’s place and wishing him a great time at the concert. Shen Jia might not have seen it—there was no reply.

When Shi Zhi got into University B, her aunt had eagerly contacted her uncle, who had lived there for years, to push Shi Zhi onto him.

Her aunt, of course, wasn’t thrilled about this.

When Shi Zhi first moved in, her aunt wore a sour face all day. Luckily, Shi Zhi wasn’t completely freeloading—she served as free labor at the bar and was somewhat useful.

Her aunt had said, “We’re short-staffed, and there’s a small room upstairs at the bar. Clean it up, and it’ll be perfect for her. It’s more convenient for Shi Zhi to stay here and help manage the business.”

Her uncle had hesitated, but her aunt discreetly pinched him and added, “Shi Zhi, you just finished your college entrance exams, and you know how tough studying for them is. Your cousin has her exams next year; it’s critical for her. If you stay at home, she’ll be distracted.”

Over the years, Shi Zhi had been shuffled around by her relatives like a ball, living under others’ roofs for so long that she’d become accustomed to their attitudes, complaints, and veiled remarks.

But no one at her school knew about her situation—not even Shen Jia.

They only knew Shi Zhi had relatives in town who ran a business, and she visited them on weekends.

After counting the inventory, Shi Zhi made calls to various suppliers, scheduling delivery times. She then told Ling Ling the delivery schedule, instructing, “Check the quantities against the order.”

Ling Ling nodded enthusiastically. “Don’t worry, Sister Shi Zhi. I’ll get it done perfectly!”

As the bar’s opening hours approached, its signboard and interior lights flickered on. Lao Qian arrived on time, leaning on the bar while scrolling through short videos on his phone.

No wonder business was slow here.

At trendy bars, bartenders were usually so good-looking that they made hearts race. Here, they specifically hired based on low wages. Lao Qian was middle-aged, fond of smoking and drinking, and his crow’s feet were so deep you could plant rice in them.

Shi Zhi’s uncle and aunt now managed other businesses, leaving the bar entirely in Shi Zhi’s hands. Her weekends were packed with tasks.

Mid-month meant payday. Shi Zhi switched roles from inventory manager to accountant, calculating deductions for Wan Ran’s missed days, commissions, and wages. She prepared the figures to send to her aunt.

While waiting for a response, Shi Zhi overheard Ling Ling exclaim excitedly, “Here he comes! Sister Wan Ran, our biggest spender is back! Do you think he comes here for your singing?”

Shi Zhi hadn’t been at the bar last weekend because of an exam and didn’t know a big spender had been frequenting the place. Her interest piqued as she listened further.

It wasn’t even performance time yet. Wan Ran leaned lazily against the bar, clearly unimpressed. “Nah, probably came for the top-up promotion.”

The promotion was her aunt’s idea, involving days of flyering.

Shi Zhi had doubted its effectiveness, but apparently, it had drawn customers.

She had no interest in the “big spender.”

In fact, Shi Zhi was rarely curious about people or events. Without even turning around to look at the main hall, she casually reposted the promotion on the bar’s public account, thinking, If it works, might as well post it again.

Ling Ling returned downstairs after taking an order, while Wan Ran prepared to test the microphone. Wan Ran, unable to kick her bad habits, tapped the bar counter. “Get me a beer to soothe my throat.”

Staff had to log their consumption. Shi Zhi picked up a pen and scribbled “1664” on Wan Ran’s tab. Grabbing a bottle of room-temperature beer, she expertly popped the cap against the counter edge and handed it over.

“Tsk, 1664? Not strong enough.” Wan Ran complained but still took a swig before heading to the stage.

Ling Ling whispered to Lao Qian near the bar, “The guy is pretty handsome, but kind of weird. Always orders expensive drinks but never actually drinks them…”

Shi Zhi had encountered someone with similar behavior a month ago.

A bad feeling crept over her. She spun around abruptly, looking toward the second floor.

Sure enough, someone was sitting at the best table upstairs. Fu Xiling lounged on the sofa, looking straight at her.

From this distance, Shi Zhi couldn’t discern the emotions in Fu Xiling’s eyes, but it seemed like he smiled at her.

University B was quite far from here—across two districts. This wasn’t an area where Shen Jia or his friends lived. Shi Zhi never expected to see a familiar face in this run-down bar.

Stopping Ling Ling, she took the drinks from her. “For the upstairs customer?”

“Yeah…”

“I’ll deliver it.”

Fu Xiling was equally surprised to see Shi Zhi in this shabby bar.

But beyond the surprise, he thought her cold expression while standing behind the bar seemed more like her true personality. It distracted him enough that even replying to messages became half-hearted.

Just as he put down his phone, Shi Zhi came up the stairs.

She looked different today from the two previous times he’d seen her.

At the bar last time, Shen Jia wore a flimsy paper birthday hat from the cake. After cutting the cake, their friends teased Shen Jia and Shi Zhi to kiss.

Shi Zhi had been so shy that she covered her face and refused to look up.

In the end, Shen Jia had smiled, put an arm around her waist, and kissed her forehead gently, as if afraid of scaring her.

Afterward, Shi Zhi had hidden behind Shen Jia, tugging at his sleeve and whispering into his ear.

The day they ate crawfish, she seemed even more like a typical girl.

Her boyfriend had to peel the crawfish for her, and she ate slowly, carefully wiping the corners of her mouth after every bite. The spice from the crawfish sauce made her lips slightly red, and when she turned to smile at Shen Jia, her eyes curved, her nose crinkled—a perfect image of a Ragdoll cat.

But today? Not so delicate and timid.

This girl wasn’t shy, and she wasn’t smiling. Her skinny jeans highlighted her long legs as she strode over with great strides, holding two bottles of cold Corona like she was carrying weapons to claim someone’s life.

Leaning against the sofa, Fu Xiling watched her approach and was the first to speak. “Is this your bar?”

Clearly, they both knew they remembered each other, so Shi Zhi didn’t waste words.

Climbing the stairs, she’d thought of many things.

She knew Fu Xiling and Shen Jia didn’t get along, but she doubted Fu Xiling had come to the bar just to follow her.

His timing, however, was too coincidental for her comfort.

Instead of answering, she countered, “Did you follow me here?”

Fu Xiling replied, “Not at all. I don’t have a habit of stalking girls.”

As long as he wasn’t probing into her family background, anything else could be managed.

Shi Zhi sat on the sofa opposite him. Pinching a Corona between her pinky and ring finger, she forcefully struck it against the table. The bottle cap of the top Corona flew off.

She then picked up the second bottle and popped it against the table edge. Both bottles were opened, fizzing slightly at the mouths.

She said, “Tonight’s bill is on me. Just don’t mention to anyone that you saw me here. Deal?”

When Shi Zhi came back downstairs, Ling Ling immediately approached with gossip. “Sister Shi Zhi, do you know our big spender?”

“Nope.”

“Oh…” Ling Ling seemed troubled. “Then should you deliver the bottle of fancy liquor and water he ordered?”

“…You do it.”

Glancing at the brand of the liquor, Shi Zhi felt exasperated. If she’d known he’d order something so pricey, she wouldn’t have offered to pay for him.

Fu Xiling had agreed too easily with just a casual “Sure.” His expression had seemed natural, leaving Shi Zhi unsure of his true intentions or whether he’d keep his word.

Frowning slightly, she glanced upstairs again and locked eyes with Fu Xiling.

The bar was quiet, with only three or four occupied tables.

Wan Ran sang folk songs on stage, her husky voice adding an air of story-like charm. But with few customers, she sang lazily, her performance lacking energy.

As if knowing what Shi Zhi was thinking, Fu Xiling, still lounging on the second-floor sofa, smiled and mouthed the words:

“If you use someone, don’t doubt them.”

His smile had a mischievous charm.

To avoid looking at the face that irritated her, Shi Zhi headed straight to the staff corridor by the storage room and went upstairs to her bedroom.

The dim, narrow bedroom was illuminated by a small desk lamp. Sitting on the bed, she stared at her phone.

Her conversation with Shen Jia still hadn’t progressed beyond her message from the afternoon. He hadn’t replied.

Normally, Shi Zhi wouldn’t care if her boyfriend didn’t respond instantly.

With the lively atmosphere of a concert, it was understandable not to check one’s phone.

But perhaps because of Fu Xiling’s unexpected appearance, Shi Zhi felt like something was slipping out of her control, veering toward the unexpected. A faint unease settled in her chest.

By midnight, there was still no message from Shen Jia.

Wan Ran knocked on her door, asking if she could leave early since all the customers were gone.

“Go ahead,” Shi Zhi said, walking downstairs with Wan Ran.

When Shi Zhi wasn’t around, Ling Ling usually handled the bar’s daily income details. But Ling Ling wasn’t good at bookkeeping and often made mistakes. On weekends, Shi Zhi would handle it herself.

Halfway down the stairs, Shi Zhi suddenly paused. “That guy upstairs—is he gone?”

“Yeah.”

Wan Ran rubbed her neck and coughed twice. “When the big spender settled the bill, there seemed to be a system glitch. It said the payment had already gone through, but Ling Ling had to reorder to complete it…”

Shi Zhi was stunned. “When did he leave?”

“Just now.”

Chasing after him was pointless—he was long gone. The street outside was empty, with no sign of Fu Xiling.

Most of the nearby shops had closed, their shutters down. Only the bar’s illuminated sign flickered faintly, making the scene feel desolate.

Shi Zhi checked her phone—it was nearly 12:30 a.m.

The concert ended at 11. Even if Shen Jia had gone out for supper with friends afterward, he should’ve had time to contact her by now. But he hadn’t.

Shi Zhi stared at her phone, lost in thought.

Headlights flashed as a matte black sports car drove up from the parking lot, stopping in front of her.

The window rolled down, revealing Fu Xiling leaning lazily on the steering wheel. “Waiting for Shen Jia’s call?”

Shi Zhi didn’t know what game he was playing. She watched him warily, saying nothing.

Fu Xiling picked up his phone from the passenger seat, seemingly checking something. After flipping through a few things, he tossed it back onto the seat.

“I bet Shen Jia won’t call you tonight,” he said. “Care to make a wager?”