Drunk On The Night Breeze - Chapter 22

Chapter 22

Following the location Tao Zhi had sent, Ruan Lingfeng drove through the night to a small bistro called “Turn Off the Moon.” The bistro’s sign flickered with a gentle silver glow, the same color as the moon. Looking through the semi-transparent glass door, the lights were on and people were moving inside, yet a “Closed” sign hung pointedly on the door.

Ruan Lingfeng called Tao Zhi: “Hey, I’m here, but the place you mentioned seems to be closed… By the way, aren’t we supposed to be eating?”

“You’re here already? Wait a sec,” Tao Zhi said without hanging up. Ruan Lingfeng gradually heard two overlapping voices—one from the phone receiver and the other from the person pushing open the door from the inside and walking toward him. “I was just adjusting the equipment. Didn’t I tell you to message me when you were almost here?”

Ruan Lingfeng hung up. His mood was still poor, but he didn’t show it at all. He crinkled his eyes in a smile as usual and waved at Tao Zhi.

“Did you book the whole place? I thought you sent me the wrong location,” Ruan Lingfeng said, not knowing what Tao Zhi had up his sleeve. He added, “What equipment are you adjusting?”

Tao Zhi tilted his chin up. Ruan Lingfeng followed his lead and saw a small stage nestled deep within the space.

Ruan Lingfeng was surprised: “Are you performing here tonight?”

“It was supposed to be just a rehearsal,” Tao Zhi said. “It is dinner time, though. Let’s eat first.”

There seemed to be no logical connection between the two halves of that sentence. While Ruan Lingfeng was still puzzled, he heard Tao Zhi continue: “But I only just told the kitchen to start making it before you arrived, so you’ll have to wait a bit… Follow me.”

Ruan Lingfeng followed Tao Zhi inside. Although the shop was “closed,” there were two servers present. They had been idling and playing on their phones, but both looked up as the pair passed by.

Ruan Lingfeng expected a “Welcome” or something similar, but instead, he heard them greet Tao Zhi with cheerful voices: “Boss, is this the friend you’re hosting tonight?”

“Boss?” Ruan Lingfeng was taken aback.

“Yeah. My… friend, right,” Tao Zhi replied to the servers before turning to Ruan Lingfeng. “Yeah, I opened this place. Any problem with that?”

“I just didn’t expect you to be running a side business.”

Ruan Lingfeng hadn’t actually thought much else of it, but Tao Zhi seemed sensitive about the topic: “Let’s get this straight—I opened this shop with the money I earned from singing. I didn’t rely on my family.”

There was nothing else to say; Ruan Lingfeng gave Tao Zhi a thumb’s up.

Thinking about it, the guy was nineteen—young, successful, with a brilliant and colorful life. He was a top-tier singer and a bistro owner at the same time. Looking at himself, though he had some savings after working for a few years, he was still hesitating over whether to buy an apartment in a first-tier city like Yuncheng.

“Even though I’ve always made the music I like, I’m still facing the public, so I have to lean toward the market at least a little… Plus, I can’t just sing other people’s songs whenever I want out there. That’s why I took over this place at the beginning of the year and renovated it. It’s mainly to keep a stage for myself where I can sing whatever I want.” Tao Zhi explained with rare patience—perhaps because this was something he was proud of, he couldn’t help but say a few extra words.

“That’s great… really.” For some reason, hearing these words made the dark clouds over Ruan Lingfeng’s heart scatter slightly. He suddenly felt that as long as a person wanted to, they could always carve out a corner for their original self. He added, “I used to think about opening a quiet bar too. Of course, I wouldn’t be able to afford the singers I admire, but I’d fantasize about meeting a talented but unappreciated singer one day. I’d take him in out of the goodness of my heart and let him be the resident performer. One day he’d be discovered, get famous, and then come back to my place for a ‘thank you’ live show, saying this was where his dream began… Hahaha.”

Tao Zhi listened seriously and gave his review: “Third-rate script.”

Ruan Lingfeng didn’t deny it: “Yeah.”

The two walked to the front of the small stage where small round tables were scattered. They chose a table closest to the stage. Ruan Lingfeng asked, “So do you perform here occasionally? Do people not recognize you?”

“Of course they do,” Tao Zhi said. “Haha, it’s hilarious. I usually wear a disguise, but occasionally someone says I look like Tao Zhi. One time when I got recognized, I said I was a Tao Zhi impersonator named ‘Tao Fang.’ Someone put it online and I got scolded for ‘leeching off my own heat.'”

Ruan Lingfeng laughed: “Leeching off yourself, huh?”

Tao Zhi: “Yeah. Who would think a guy as arrogant as me would be singing in a little bistro?”

Ruan Lingfeng thought to himself: So he knows he’s arrogant.

“Seriously though, you came so suddenly, I was still preparing…” Tao Zhi was halfway through when a server brought a large bowl from the kitchen and placed it in front of Ruan Lingfeng.

It was a bowl of noodles—plain noodles in clear broth, topped with a few chopped green onions and a poached egg.

Ruan Lingfeng: “You’re treating me to just this?”

“What do you mean?” Since they met today, Tao Zhi’s temper had been so good that Ruan Lingfeng thought he’d been possessed. Finally, Tao Zhi showed a hint of displeasure. “These are Longevity Noodles.”

Ruan Lingfeng was truly stunned this time. He had mentioned his birthday to Tao Zhi casually before; he didn’t even quite remember saying it. His sudden decision to eat with Tao Zhi was just because he was feeling miserable alone and remembered Tao Zhi had invited him.

He hadn’t expected Tao Zhi to have the kitchen make him a bowl of longevity noodles.

“Since you said you weren’t coming back until tomorrow, I was going to do this then.”

“Was this the ‘preparation’ you were talking about?” Ruan Lingfeng asked.

“How could that be? How much preparation does a bowl of noodles take? Am I supposed to plant the wheat in advance?” Tao Zhi was clearly not good at handling this kind of scene. He simply stood up and jumped onto the stage.

Standing on the stage still felt a bit awkward. Tao Zhi held the stand-mic and tested the sound. He looked at the opposite wall for a bit, then glanced at Ruan Lingfeng, saying: “You said it was your birthday, so I had to give you some kind of gift. But I didn’t know what to get. Food, clothes, daily necessities—you definitely aren’t lacking those. I don’t know what else you like, and I’m not quite willing to part with my rarer vinyl records. I figured singing is the only thing I’m good at. You like music and shows, so I’ll put on a mini-live for you. I think this gift is decent enough… Happy birthday. And thanks for taking care of me.”

The last sentence was a bit muffled, as if he were saying it unclearly on purpose out of embarrassment.

Tao Zhi added: “Full disclosure, I haven’t really celebrated birthdays for friends much, so I don’t know if this is appropriate. And it’s really your fault for coming back early—I didn’t even get to practice… If you don’t like it, don’t tell me.”

Ruan Lingfeng stared fixedly at Tao Zhi on the stage. At this moment, he couldn’t say a single word. His heart was filled with something warm and surging.

It wasn’t that no one had ever sung to Ruan Lingfeng alone before; in fact, he’d encountered it several times when people were trying to pursue him. Singing was a way for Alphas to flaunt their romance—a bait to lure prey into a net.

Tao Zhi hadn’t started singing yet, but Ruan Lingfeng knew his motivation was nothing like that.

Tao Zhi just sincerely wanted to give him a few songs as a gift, without any hidden agenda. It was a pure exchange between two people who loved music.

This sincerity hit Ruan Lingfeng squarely in the heart.

Of course, there was more to it.

A few hours ago, he had been mistreated by his family, to the point where he despondently thought no one had ever looked forward to his birth. But now he thought—he still didn’t know if anyone had expected him in this world, but at least someone was celebrating with him.

The act of celebrating meant that his birth was something worth being happy about.

He could finally… feel happy.

Tao Zhi had also called him a “friend,” which made Ruan Lingfeng feel a bit of shame. Before this, he had never truly placed Tao Zhi in the category of a friend. Initially, he found him annoying; later, he didn’t hate him; after that, he felt they could talk. But he always felt they were from different worlds.

But from this moment on, he felt that Tao Zhi could be his friend.

Having said too much preamble, Tao Zhi couldn’t stand the awkwardness any longer. He cleared his throat and began to sing, and the lights dimmed accordingly.

The first song was a plain, ordinary “Happy Birthday.”

Strangely, the Tao Zhi who had looked cramped and awkward transformed the moment he started singing. He became relaxed and confident. His unique voice—somewhere between a youth and a mature man—was amplified through the microphone and speakers, flowing into Ruan Lingfeng’s ears.

When Tao Zhi reached the end, he sang: “Happy birthday to Xiao Feng, happy birthday to you.”

Ruan Lingfeng smiled. What do you mean ‘Xiao Feng’? Don’t you know how to respect your elders? You should at least call me ‘Ge’.