Tang Qing looked at Murong Feng with a heart full of sympathy, sensing the turmoil in his heart.
In truth, the mere fact that Murong Feng was willing to step into the Tang family's home and face someone like Tang Henian was already immensely touching to Tang Qing.
So at this moment, she simply nodded gently and smiled, "Alright, where would you like to go for a drink?"
Murong Feng was silent for a while, then revealed a complex and hard-to-describe smile. "Let's go to Shichahai."
This was Murong Feng's first visit to Shichahai since his breakup with Zhao Nian.
The Ping'an Avenue in front of the Lotus Market at Shichahai was bustling with traffic. On weekend nights, the area was naturally filled with urban men and women from all over Beijing, gathering here to enjoy bars and entertainment.
The neon lights, the extravagant nightlife, this was the glamorous nightlife beneath the prosperous era. Countless handsome men and beautiful women indulged here, venting various emotions repressed by life and work. Life's frustrations, perhaps only after getting drunk, could make them feel that there was nothing they couldn't achieve, with all worries dissipating in the drunken revelry.
Murong Feng and Tang Qing circled around, parking their car near the Drum Tower on Di'anmen Outer Street. They walked through Yandaixiejie, heading towards Houhai.
On this narrow oblique street, bars, clothing stores, antique shops, and pipe shops lined up one after another. Tang Qing had never walked here before, and she gradually became captivated by the unique and exquisite small trinkets and accessories displayed in the shops along the way. She had always frequented high-end and luxurious places and had never had the experience of walking shoulder to shoulder with Murong Feng in such a small street. With her noble background, she was generally indifferent to most people. Friends she could truly confide in were few, and those who could accompany her to a bar were even fewer.
Murong Feng adjusted his mood. Seeing Tang Qing in high spirits, he began to tell her stories about Yandaixiejie. Historically, this street mainly sold pipes and smoking paraphernalia. Shops would hang wooden pipe carvings as signboards to attract customers. It's said that some shops even washed water pipes for Empress Dowager Cixi. One shop called "Shuangsheng Tai" was located at the eastern end of the street. In front of the shop stood a wooden carving of a large pipe, as tall as a person, as thick as a bowl, with a copper-colored pipe bowl and mouthpiece, and a black lacquered pipe stem that looked like ebony. The pipe bowl was adorned with a red silk tassel that swayed in the wind. Thus, Yandaixiejie got its name.
Tang Qing excitedly picked through the small shops, regretting that the old man had quit smoking long ago; otherwise, she would have bought him a pipe as a gift.
Walking onto the crowded Silver Ingot Bridge, Murong Feng spotted a bar that brought back the most painful memories.
He pointed to a red sign with white lettering and smiled at Tang Qing. "Let's go there."
Tang Qing followed his gaze. The bar was housed in an old residential building with a dark exterior, and the sign read "le.chat" in striking letters.
Murong Feng's expression was complex and ever-changing, revealing his emotional turmoil. Though Tang Qing didn't know the whole story, she understood there must be a reason why Murong Feng suddenly wanted to drink and came here. She smiled sweetly and said, "Alright."
This was a bar filled with the vibe of a small French tavern. The white brick walls were adorned with numerous French art paintings. Under the warm, dim candlelight, the various small decorations and hanging ornaments in the bar exuded an artistic atmosphere. The bar counter's ceiling was adorned with countless hanging fish-shaped lights. In a corner, a wooden giraffe nearly as tall as a person and shelves filled with cat figurines added an innocent charm to the enchanting ambiance created by the beaded curtains and lights.
This was a quiet bar without the loud, intense music typical of some venues. Instead, the soothing melody of a romantic French song, "Ni Vivre Ni Mourir" (I Have Lost You), floated gently from the band's stand.
As soon as Tang Qing entered, she fell in love with the bar. They pushed through the beaded curtain and sat in a corner on a sofa. Tang Qing casually played with the small glass spinning plate on the table, used for games by customers. She looked around at the hanging paintings on the walls and smiled, "Murong, you have a knack for finding such nice places! This bar reminds me a lot of the small taverns along the Seine River in France."
Murong Feng smiled lightly, though the smile carried a hint of bitterness. He took the menu handed to him by the bartender who followed them to their table. He ordered a bottle of red wine for himself, then turned to Tang Qing. "Janney, the margarita here is excellent. Would you like one?" Tang Qing gave him a curious look and smiled, "Sure."
She had already sensed that Murong Feng's intention in bringing her here tonight was not just to drink.
After the bartender left, Murong Feng looked at Tang Qing, whose eyes were filled with clear concern. He smiled again, relaxed yet distant. "This was the favorite bar of Zhao Nian and me when we were in college."
Upon hearing this, Tang Qing felt a cold shiver run through her body, her face paling. As Murong Feng continued to smile and speak, she noticed an aura of cold desolation around him.
"Zhao Nian always said this bar had a special charm, very refined… She always longed for a high-quality life... Then she broke up with me, right there at that table." He pointed casually to a spot by the window. Tang Qing's heart ached as she listened to his light-hearted tone recount these memories.
"Murong, you..." She wanted to urge him to stop but was interrupted by his smiling gesture.
"That day, I was heartbroken. I rented a small boat, just floating on the small lake outside this bar, watching her fall into someone else's arms. That day I thought of dying. From that day on, I vowed never to easily believe in love again, unless I had a lot of money so my woman wouldn't leave me because of money..."
He paused, laughing sarcastically. "And then, I had money! Was it fate's way of proving something to me? Who knows. I vowed never to let emotions hurt me again, and likewise, to never break someone else's heart."
Murong Feng poured himself a glass of red wine and raised it with a smile. "Janney, thank you for coming to drink with me. Cheers." Tang Qing sighed inwardly. She realized Murong Feng had likely kept these feelings bottled up for a long time. Perhaps the visit to her family had triggered this desire to vent. She raised her glass gently, smiling as they toasted. Perhaps he would feel better after this.
Murong Feng downed the wine in one go, showing none of the usual elegance in savoring the drink, instead displaying a distinctly masculine vibe.
"Janney, during the darkest and most uninteresting period of my life, I returned to school to perform in a play, which is when I met Zhao Nian..."
The sound of the music continued to fill the bar. As the oars moved, the ripples in the lake reflected the lights, and lanterns floated on the water, swaying with the waves, prompting endless reveries. Amid the thousand-year-old red walls and moonlit waters, how many untold stories lingered?