Chapter Twenty-Eight: The Passage of Time

For Chongqing, Beicheng Tianjie is the equivalent of Sanlitun in Beijing. Every city has its own symbols, much like Lan Kwai Fong in Chengdu or New Tiandi in Kunming.

As night falls and the lights flicker to life, the men and women of the city swarm out, releasing the pressures accumulated throughout the day. Some drown their sorrows in alcohol, others sing and dance, shedding their inhibitions in a frenzy; everyone has their own way of letting go.

And what of Nie Yunyang?

Nie Yunyang visited bars quite often, but most of the time, he went to listen to a girl sing, incidentally protecting her from the advances of drunken men.

This girl’s name was Xiao Qian.

Located in Beicheng Tianjie, the Chongqing Story Pub was a folk-themed establishment with minimalist decor that served whatever you wanted to drink.

Back in high school, Nie Yunyang frequented this place. Yuan Wei and the others would often join in for the fun, but most of the time, he would sit alone with a single bottle of beer, nursing it until late into the night.

Returning to his hometown, Nie Yunyang had walked the campus and visited his brothers, but he had never stepped foot back into this pub. Standing at the entrance now, he knew full well that the girl who had once sung here would never return.

She was a girl who had sung Ye Bei’s "The Era of White Clothes," Ai Jing’s "The Story of Yanfen Street," Cao Fang’s "Meeting Me," and Cheng Bi’s "Love and Dust." At the time, record labels had wanted to sign her, but she had refused.

September in Chongqing remained swelteringly hot, and Beicheng Tianjie was incredibly noisy. Ignoring the tag-along behind him, Nie Yunyang parked his Audi A6 on the side of the road and walked into the Chongqing Story Pub with Tan Weibo.

On a weekday night, the pub wasn’t very crowded. People sat in small groups, drinking and chatting. A cool-looking male singer was performing Zhou Shen’s "Little Happiness," a song currently trending across every street and alley.

Soon, the melody of another song filled the pub: Qi Qin’s "About in Winter." Nie Yunyang loved the line: "You ask me when I will return home, and I softly ask myself. Not at this moment, I don’t know when, I think it will probably be in winter."

He had met *her* in winter. That "her" was not Xiao Qian, but the one who had left him owing her a hotpot.

They had met at the Sparrow Bar. He had failed his college entrance exams and was hiding away, drinking in misery, while she sat nearby listening to the music. It was said that many powerful figures in the Southwest had once gotten dead drunk at the Sparrow Bar.

Their eyes met. He walked over and asked, "Alone?"
She replied, "Alone."
He asked, "Do you mind if one more joins you?"
She shook her head, saying nothing.

He sat down, and they began to drink and chat, though her attitude was perfunctory, her replies sparse and distant.
He asked, "Here for fun?"
She countered, "Mind your own business."
He asked, "Any interest in going somewhere else?"
She replied, "Sure."

And so, they traveled together. They visited Mount Fanjingshan in Guizhou, Jiuzhaigou in Sichuan, and Lugu Lake in Yunnan, finally parting ways in the ancient town of Lijiang. She went to Jiangsu, and he went to Jiangxi.

He felt she was the other half of his soul, and she felt the same, yet they viewed each other merely as passing travelers on the journey of life.

He said, "Next time we meet, I’ll definitely chase you."
She said, "In your dreams. You owe me a hotpot."

Since then, they had vanished into thin air, never to contact each other again.

Nie Yunyang and Tan Weibo found a seat and called out, "Waiter, bring us some drinks!"
"What would you two like?" the waiter asked politely.
Nie Yunyang snapped his fingers and said, "Just two bottles of Budweiser will do."
"Our house specialty is the Tequila Sunrise. Would you like to try it?" the waiter suggested.
Nie Yunyang shook his head. "No need, just two beers."
"Please wait a moment."

The waiter walked away with a smile, though inwardly he sneered, "Beggars."

"Yunyang, aren't you being a bit stingy? It’s late at night and you’re brushing me off with a bottle of beer? If this were in Nanchang, I wouldn't say much else, but the drinks would be bottomless—Ace of Spades champagne, enough to make you drink until you vomit," Tan Weibo remarked.

Nie Yunyang smiled and explained, "Back in high school, I was so poor I could only afford beer. The owner eventually took pity on me and even gave me a cocktail on the house."
"You brought me here to tell a story, didn't you?" Tan Weibo asked.
Nie Yunyang hesitated for a moment. "Just reminiscing. A girl used to sing here; I came to drink purely to listen to her."
"First love or unrequited love?" Tan Weibo pressed.
Nie Yunyang thought for a moment. "Ex-girlfriend."
"No wonder you ran here to drink; it's a case of seeing the place and thinking of the person. But in my eyes, young love is just playing house. All that talk of 'until the seas run dry' is just nonsense," Tan Weibo said.

Nie Yunyang didn’t deny it. "Once you have seen the vast ocean, other waters are hard to admire; once you have seen the clouds at Wushan, other peaks are not worth calling clouds. It’s all in the past."

"In my opinion, that Mu Qingyao is quite good. You risked everything to protect her—isn't that love? From my observations, the way she looks at you is practically longing. Just get together already," Tan Weibo said.

Nie Yunyang took a deep breath and said nothing more.

The waiter brought the beers. Nie Yunyang took his bottle and sipped, while Tan Weibo gulped his down, finishing it in an instant.

"Forgot to tell you, my nickname is the 'Immortal of Spirits.' I can drink for a day and a night without getting drunk," Tan Weibo said proudly, clearly having no intention of paying.

Nie Yunyang sighed helplessly and called out, "Waiter, bring another case of beer."
"Coming right up, sir!" the waiter replied happily.
"That’s more like it," Tan Weibo said.

Nie Yunyang drank while listening to the music, looking so sentimental he seemed to have lost his soul. He was lost in thought, remembering how, back then, Xiao Qian hated men who drank to excess, so he had always limited himself to just one bottle.

At that moment, the resident singer was drenched in sweat, his throat parched, and he sat in a chair to rest.

Nie Yunyang walked over and asked, "Brother, can I borrow your guitar?"
"Sure." The singer was exhausted and hoping for someone to take over.

Nie Yunyang took the guitar, sat in the spot that had once belonged to Xiao Qian, and exchanged a few words with the band members. They were in immediate harmony.

Nie Yunyang tested the mic, composed himself, and looked at the crowd. "Everyone, fate has brought us together. I’d like to dedicate 'Blue and White Porcelain' to you all."

The pub was fairly full by now, and the guests welcomed the impromptu performance with applause. Tan Weibo was left dumbfounded; he hadn’t expected the burly Nie Yunyang to have such an artistic side.

The music began, stirring the heart. Nie Yunyang strummed the guitar and began to sing.

"The raw clay sketches the blue and white, the brush strokes turning from deep to pale.
The peony on the vase is like your initial makeup.
The curling sandalwood smoke passes through the window, and I understand the worries in my heart.
On the rice paper, the writing stops halfway.
The glaze renders the beauty, the charm kept hidden.
And your radiant smile is like a budding flower.
Your beauty, a wisp drifting away,
To a place I cannot reach.
The sky is blue waiting for the mist and rain, and I am waiting for you.
The cooking smoke rises in curls, separated by thousands of miles across the river.
Writing in clerical script on the bottom of the vase, imitating the grace of a past dynasty,
Let it be that I am foreshadowing our meeting.
The sky is blue waiting for the mist and rain, and I am waiting for you.
The moonlight is salvaged, blurring the ending.
Like a timeless piece of blue and white porcelain, beautiful in its own right.
Your eyes carry a smile..."

As Nie Yunyang’s voice rang out, the guests quieted down, drinking in the beautiful melody. Touched by the emotion in the song, they couldn't help but tap along to the beat.

When Nie Yunyang sang the final line, "Like a timeless piece of blue and white porcelain, beautiful in its own right, your eyes carry a smile," the room erupted in thunderous applause and cheers. Tan Weibo was especially dramatic, shouting and cheering wildly.

Nie Yunyang stood up and bowed to the crowd. "Thank you, please continue to enjoy your evening."

He handed the guitar back to the stunned singer, pulled Tan Weibo up, and walked out of the bar. As the two drifted further away, the pub returned to its bustling state, filled with laughter and chatter, as if nothing had happened at all.

In a remote corner, a woman was already weeping uncontrollably.