Chapter Sixty-Four: Only Blame the Night for Being Too Dark
Back at the bar, she ordered another drink, her spirits high. Raising her glass, she spoke with such confidence and volume that she nearly drowned out the raucous music. “Let me tell you, I have never been drunk in my life!”
“Is that so?” Xi Mintang responded with perfect manners. No matter what she said tonight, he replied with admiration.
A shadow of melancholy crossed her face. “Being able to hold your liquor isn’t all good. At least others can pass out after one glass, but I keep drinking till I can’t fit another drop, and my mind is still clear.”
Xi Mintang nodded in agreement and then asked, “Do you know the difference between water and wine?”
She shook her head honestly, curiosity lighting her eyes. The look she gave him, still misty from tears, moved him deeply, so much so that he almost forgot his question. After a few seconds, he answered, “In the end, water and wine are the same; both quench thirst. It’s just that one soothes the mouth, and the other, the heart.”
She smiled, understanding, her mood buoyed once more. Pouring two more drinks, she proposed, “I once heard women are born with a braver heart for drink than men. I wonder if it’s true. Care to compete with me?”
“It just so happens I’m a man of action,” he replied without hesitation, raising his glass to clink against hers. If drinking could give her a moment’s respite, he was more than willing to accompany her.
After a glass, she was grateful it was Xi Mintang who found her tonight. Had it been anyone else, not only would they have refused to indulge her, but they’d have spent the night offering hollow encouragements. It wasn’t their fault they didn’t understand: when someone has been brave for too long, unless they have a chance to lay bare their weakness, they may never find the strength to rise again.
By midnight, she was drunk and rambling, her words slurred. “Xiao Lin… when the holidays come, let’s go pick grapes, all right?”
“Xiaoxiao, Xiaoxiao.” Xi Mintang steadied her by the shoulder, worried she might suddenly topple from the barstool. She lifted her head, her gaze unfocused and dazed, the neon lights painting her features with an alluring softness. Pointing at Xi Mintang, she giggled foolishly. “Eh? Why is it you? Oh… now I remember!” Her eyes darted cautiously around the room before she leaned in close, whispering into his ear, “Let me tell you a secret, but you have to promise not to tell anyone.”
“I swear,” he replied.
She giggled, leaning in so close her lips nearly brushed his sensitive ear. “I killed someone,” she whispered. Xi Mintang started, wanting instinctively to check on her, but she pressed on, “My Xiao Lin… he’s dead… he died four years ago… I killed him with my own hands…”
“Xiaoxiao?” Hearing only a faint exhale in response, he pulled her away. Her head drooped, eyes closed, her body limp as if she’d melted—completely lost to drunken oblivion.
He had no choice but to hail a cab and take her home. She leaned quietly against his shoulder. In a soft voice, he asked the driver to close the window; drunken people caught in a draft would wake with a headache. The midnight radio played Sandy Lam’s “The Night is Too Dark”: “…no one has truly tasted love; it’s only the night that’s too dark, no one worrying if tomorrow will bring regret…” At that, he asked the driver to turn off the radio as well.
The landlady was downstairs playing mahjong. The weather was growing warm, so the windows were thrown wide. Seeing Xi Mintang help Xiaoxiao out of the car, she exchanged knowing glances with her fellow players.
“We’re here. Wake up.” No matter how he called, she didn’t stir. With no other option, Xi Mintang carried her on his back. She lay quietly, not making a fuss. Carried by alcohol, he felt an odd sense of ease, her warm breath against his neck making him lose himself for a moment.
Lonely Hours, Don’t Speak of Love, Chapter Sixty-Four: Only the Night is Too Dark—End of Update!