Chapter 609: White, Red, Beer

Back at Lushan Village, the two entered the kitchen.

Zhou Shihe handled the wok, Li Heng washed and chopped vegetables; they worked in perfect sync, neither mentioning Huang Ziyue from earlier.

When he finished slicing the ginger and garlic, she said gently, “Why don’t you rest for a bit? The dishes will be ready soon.”

Li Heng washed his hands, wiped off the water droplets, and said, “No need—I’m not in the mood to read anyway. I’ll keep you company.”

Hearing “keep you company,” Zhou Shihe paused, stared at the food in the pot, and focused back on her work.

When the braised fish was nearly done, she glanced at him, then stepped aside, waiting quietly.

Li Heng understood, picked up chopsticks, lifted a piece of fish from the pot, tasted it, and said, “Tastes great—perfectly salted. Ready to serve.”

As she plated the fish, she suddenly said, “I’m planning to go home tomorrow, come back on the tenth.”

Li Heng wasn’t surprised. When he’d heard her call Mai Sui the night before, he’d already guessed this outcome. “Alright. Call your family and have them come pick you up.”

“Mm.” Zhou Shihe murmured softly.

For a long while, neither spoke. The kitchen fell silent, save for when a dish neared completion, and she’d step aside to let him taste.

Three meat dishes and one vegetable—four dishes came together faster than expected.

After placing all dishes on the table, Li Heng asked, “With food this good, want some alcohol?”

Zhou Shihe was about to refuse, but seeing his hopeful gaze, she fell silent for a moment, then nodded.

They drank beer.

But Zhou Shihe took only one glass, sipped twice, then sat calmly on her stool watching him eat.

Li Heng downed his glass in one go, then plunged into a silent eating frenzy, only lifting his head after half a bowl of rice. “Aren’t you eating?”

Zhou Shihe said, “I’m not very hungry.”

Li Heng asked, “Then why bother cooking all this?”

Zhou Shihe gently swirled her glass, took another small sip, then carefully spoke: “Sui Sui worried you’d be overworked, so she asked me to cook you a meal as a reward.”

Li Heng was surprised: “Really? That was Mai Sui’s request?”

Zhou Shihe said yes.

Li Heng fell silent for a while, then said, “If you’ve got something to say, just say it. We’ve known each other long enough—no need for roundabout hints.”

Zhou Shihe avoided the question, changed the topic: “I noticed you don’t seem to like baijiu.”

Li Heng said, “That’s true. Baijiu’s too strong. I can’t handle it—just one glass knocks me out, and I get a headache afterward.”

Zhou Shihe said, “But whenever someone important asks you to drink, you rarely refuse.”

Li Heng said, “You said it yourself—it’s important people. Hard to say no.”

Zhou Shihe smiled slightly and asked, “What about red wine?”

Li Heng said, “I especially like it.”

Zhou Shihe said, “Hard to get drunk on, tastes good, and looks elegant.”

Li Heng smiled. “Exactly.”

Zhou Shihe said, “But the one you drink most seems to be beer.”

Li Heng nodded. “Yes. Out of ten drinking sessions, at least eight are beer.”

Zhou Shihe summed up: “Beer’s tasty, cheap, easy to get, and you can drink as much as you want, right?”

Li Heng raised his thumb in agreement. “Come on, let’s toast.”

Zhou Shihe honored him, clinked her glass against his, but didn’t drink—she just watched him.

Li Heng tilted his head back, drained his glass, and asked, “Why aren’t you drinking?”

Zhou Shihe said, “Watching you drink just reminded me of something.”

“Oh.”

Li Heng murmured, then followed up: “What’s that?”

Zhou Shihe picked up her chopsticks and, unusually, placed a piece of lamb and winter bamboo shoot on his plate, then took two pieces of bamboo shoot for herself. She lowered her head, took a small bite, and said, “I have a younger uncle—he loves drinking, but my aunt is very sensitive to the smell of alcohol…”

She stopped there, didn’t continue.

Li Heng leaned in, waiting. After a long silence, he pressed: “What happened next?”

Zhou Shihe said, “They fought over it constantly. Eventually, my aunt threatened divorce unless he quit drinking.”

“Ah?”

Li Heng was taken aback—he’d never heard of someone threatening divorce over drinking. “Is your uncle unwell? Can’t drink?”

Zhou Shihe said, “He’s still quite healthy. Gets regular checkups.”

Li Heng asked curiously, “And then?”

Zhou Shihe shifted the topic, turned to him: “If one day someone asked you to quit drinking—red wine, baijiu, beer—all of it—would you do it?”

Li Heng instinctively shook his head without hesitation: “Heavy drinking harms the body, but a little wine brings joy. As long as you’re not addicted, why cut it all out?”

But as soon as he finished, he froze. His chopsticks hung midair. He stared blankly into her eyes.

Zhou Shihe didn’t look away at first. She met his gaze silently across the table.

After a long while, she subtly shifted her gaze downward, resumed eating and drinking, slowly and calmly.

Now it was Li Heng’s turn to watch her eat. He watched her take four small bites of fish before setting down his chopsticks and tentatively asking: “Does baijiu represent Teacher Yu? Red wine, Mai Sui? Beer, Xiao Han?”

Zhou Shihe smiled faintly, kept eating, said nothing, ignored the gaze fixed on her.

Yet as she ate, though her expression remained as composed as ever, a faint, barely noticeable blush crept onto her cheeks.

Fortunately, it was dark outside, and the electric light was dim—this blush went unnoticed.

The air suddenly grew still.

After a long silence, Li Heng asked, “Did your uncle quit drinking?”

“No. He drinks even more now,” Zhou Shihe said.

Li Heng asked, “And your aunt? Did she divorce him?”

Zhou Shihe didn’t answer. She continued eating politely, until she’d eaten about seventy percent full, then stopped.

Afterward, she gracefully brushed a strand of hair behind her ear and apologized, “I’m a bit tired. I’ll go freshen up.”

Li Heng said nothing. He watched her rise, watched her leave, watched her vanish beyond the door.

Leaving Building 26, Zhou Shihe lowered her head and took a deep breath, then unconsciously patted her flushed cheeks.

Worried about something, she turned back to glance at the entrance of Building 26. Seeing he hadn’t followed, her tension finally eased.

She pulled out her key, opened Building 27. The moment she stepped into her own space, her expression calmed. She turned and locked the door, slipped on cotton slippers, and sat on the sofa in the dark.

She didn’t turn on the light. She sat there, upright and still, like a statue stripped of memory.

He’d guessed right—but she hadn’t heard the answer she wanted.

After a long, long while, she climbed the stairs with half doubt, half relief.

Again, she didn’t turn on the light. In darkness, she found the coffee table, groped for the receiver, dialed in the dark.

But not to the Zhou household—to Shaodong.

“Ding ling ling…”

“Ding ling ling…”

On the fifth ring, the phone answered. A woman’s voice came through: “Hello, who’s calling?”

“Auntie, it’s Zhou Shihe. May I speak to Mai Sui?” Zhou Shihe said.

“Oh, sure! Sui Bao just finished bathing, she’s in her room. Wait a moment.” The voice was warm.

Zhou Shihe said, “Thank you, Auntie.”

Soon after, the receiver reached Mai Sui’s hand. “Shihe, have you gotten back to school?”

“Mm. I’m in Building 27,” Zhou Shihe said.

Mai Sui asked, “Did you have dinner?”

Zhou Shihe said, “Just finished.”

Mai Sui asked, “It’s the seventh. Are the restaurants near campus opening yet?”

Zhou Shihe replied, “A few have opened, but most are still closed.”

Mai Sui asked, “Then where did you eat?”

Zhou Shihe said, “We cooked ourselves.”