To Sweep Across Like Wildfire - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Meng Chi looked up at the neon sign. There were no words on it—only a pale green glowing image: two wine glasses clinking together, four or five droplets splashing from the rims.

At a glance, it was obviously not a respectable bar. It didn’t even have a name.

She stood outside, listening to the muffled hum of the speakers inside, hesitating to go in. It wasn’t until her friend sent another message urging her on that she finally took a deep breath, placed her hand on the door handle, and pushed the door open.

The bar’s interior was much larger than she had imagined. More precisely, this bar—located in one of the capital’s most bustling districts—had pushed its use of space to the extreme.

What was originally a single-story building had been converted into a duplex using its high ceiling. Most of the construction materials were metal and steel frames. Thanks to the open, hollowed-out design, even from the first floor one could clearly see the layout of the second. The upper floor was divided into several sections, each with a small number of sofas spaced evenly apart, making it feel uncrowded.

On the first floor near the entrance stretched a long bar counter. The bartender deftly shook a cocktail shaker while customers gathered around, chatting animatedly. Above the small stage hung a wide display screen, flashing through selfies with a few lines of text and a WeChat QR code beneath each photo.

Meng Chi didn’t read the text carefully. Her eyes skimmed past the words “Born in ’98, little tiger, looking for adoption~” before she headed toward the staircase.

Laughter soon drifted down from upstairs, mixed with one or two clear, pleasant female voices. As Meng Chi climbed the stairs, she couldn’t help following the sound with her gaze.

There were no wall lamps on the second floor, and the lighting was dim. The only illumination came from the colorful lights overhead.

A woman with a slender waist leaned lightly against a black-painted railing. One elbow rested casually on it, fingers holding the rim of a stemmed glass, her wrist pale and luminous as it swayed gently in midair. She smiled toward someone beside her and said, “Wow—born in ’98, a little tiger, huh.”

The person being teased laughed, crumpled a piece of paper into a ball, and tossed it toward her head, saying something that couldn’t be heard clearly.

The woman tilted her head, easily dodging the paper ball, and leisurely took a sip of her drink.

“Meng Chi, I’m over here!”

A crisp, youthful female voice rang out from the left side of the second floor.

Jiang Sitian had been waiting out of boredom and was just about to head downstairs to look for her friend when she spotted Meng Chi’s graceful figure. She was wearing a vintage-style apricot short-sleeved blouse paired with khaki cropped trousers, a slim brown leather belt cinching her waist into a fine, elegant line. Even after all these years, every time Jiang Sitian saw her, she still felt hit by her friend’s beauty.

Jiang Sitian was dizzy for two seconds, then noticed quite a few people around them glancing toward the staircase. She thought to herself that her friend truly deserved the title of campus beauty at Beiyuan Academy of Fine Arts.

She was seated close to the staircase and assumed Meng Chi would spot her right away. Instead, she saw Meng Chi looking left and right without glancing in her direction at all. Panicking, she called out her name.

Meng Chi had her head lowered as she climbed the stairs and didn’t realize she’d already reached the top. She looked around, her gaze unconsciously sliding toward the corner—just as she heard her friend’s loud call.

The person in the corner turned her head as well.

The disco ball above rotated quietly, the room shifting between light and shadow.

Her skin was fair, her lips painted a vivid red. The shifting lights cast a hazy, seductive glow across her face, making her eyes narrow slightly under the glare.

After their eyes met briefly, Meng Chi’s heart suddenly began to race. She quickly turned her head and hurried toward her loudly calling friend, moving so fast she almost wished she could cover her friend’s mouth at the same time.

Jiang Sitian didn’t notice anything unusual about her. Leaning on the railing, she stuck out half her body and snapped her fingers several times toward the bartender downstairs.

“Hey, buddy! Table 37 upstairs wants a milk tea—no milk, no tea, hot.”

The bartender rolled his eyes. “There’s hot water downstairs. Pour it yourself.”

“Aren’t we God?”

“Can’t you see how busy I am? Even God has to pour their own hot water.”

Meng Chi was worried Jiang Sitian might get into a conflict, and also didn’t want to draw more attention. She quickly said, “I’m not thirsty right now. When I am, I’ll go downstairs and get water myself.”

Jiang Sitian pouted, then sat back down as if giving up. She took out her phone, scanned the QR code on the table, and began tapping on the screen, not sure what she was doing.

She said, “That Song Yuanzhe—looking all decent on the outside—I really didn’t expect him to cheat. What do we do now? Want to mess with him a bit?”

Her voice was fairly loud, but fortunately the bar’s music had started up, masking much of it.

Meng Chi’s slim body sank into the soft sofa. Her mood relaxed considerably, and she forgot the unease she’d felt from the corner earlier. She tilted her head back to look at the ceiling, where several gray steel pipes were embedded at staggered angles, giving off a strong modern, urban artistic vibe.

Thinking about the bar’s architectural design, her reply sounded a little distracted. “So what are you planning to do to him?”

Her voice was cool and even. Even when talking about something unfair, it didn’t diminish her inherent calmness.

Jiang Sitian stroked her chin. “Find someone to beat him up in secret? Scratch up his car? Honestly, I’ve disliked his car for a long time—a grown man driving something in flashy purple.”

Meng Chi sighed. “You might as well just beat him up directly. At least that’d be straightforward. You’re not the only one who hates the color of his car.”

Jiang Sitian had never been in a relationship and didn’t know what a ‘normal’ breakup reaction looked like. If Meng Chi’s current college roommates were here, they might have said, ‘Meng Chi, your reaction isn’t right.’

But Jiang Sitian was fully immersed in her outrage over “that ugly car.” After complaining for a bit, she said angrily, “I don’t mind you two breaking up—but why, why did it have to be him cheating first?”

Meng Chi replied, “It’s not a good thing anyway. If he cheated first, then he cheated first.”

No matter how slow Jiang Sitian could be, she noticed that her friend didn’t seem all that heartbroken. But given that her mother often said she was “using a rolling pin as a flute—no holes,” she couldn’t tell whether Meng Chi truly wasn’t that sad, or just didn’t want her to notice.

They weren’t at the same university, and usually only kept in touch via WeChat. A few months ago, Meng Chi had casually mentioned, “I’m dating someone.” To their group of middle school classmates, that was earth-shattering news. Back then, countless schoolmates had confessed to Meng Chi, only to be turned down with the excuse of preparing for the college entrance exam.

When people found out Meng Chi was dating, they flooded Qzone, Moments, Weibo, and other platforms with heartbreak posts. Anyone unaware would’ve thought they’d all collectively become monks.

Jiang Sitian had assumed Meng Chi wouldn’t date in college. So when she heard the news, she believed Meng Chi must really like the person.

But seeing her attitude now, Jiang Sitian wasn’t so sure. She asked cautiously, “Meng Chi… are you sad?”

If Meng Chi’s roommates heard this, they would’ve rushed over immediately to cover Jiang Sitian’s mouth. Back in the dorm, no one dared mention Song Yuanzhe, afraid of hurting Meng Chi.

Half of Meng Chi’s attention was still on the bar’s visual composition. Her thoughts drifted back from the ceiling pipes. Hearing the question, she thought for a moment.

Long ago, her roommates had told her she was too cold toward Song Yuanzhe. She had tried to go on proper dates, but she always had too much on her plate and couldn’t spare the time. Not long ago, a classmate mentioned that Song Yuanzhe had been getting close to a younger female student. Meng Chi hadn’t thought much of it—until she saw them walking hand in hand herself.

Song Yuanzhe had said, “Meng Chi, let’s break up. You don’t care about me at all.”

She had stayed calm and replied, “So? Does that mean you get to cheat?”

Song Yuanzhe closed his eyes and said, “Hit me. I owe you this.”

For a brief moment, Meng Chi felt detached from the situation. It was clearly serious, yet she felt as though she had stepped out of the scene—almost like he was acting in an idol drama. Later, she’d said, “No. You’re not worth it.”

She couldn’t quite articulate her feelings. She… was sad, probably. Being betrayed didn’t feel good.

She gathered her thoughts, pressed her lips together, and said lightly, “I guess… yeah.”

Jiang Sitian couldn’t fully understand her friend’s feelings. Since Meng Chi said she was sad, then she must be. Jiang Sitian even felt a bit slow to regret bringing it up.

A moment later, the metal staircase creaked as two or three servers carrying trays came upstairs. They headed straight for Table 37, setting down ten bottles of beer first—nearly taking up half the table—then squeezing in five or six small plates of snacks. Finally, they placed a large kettle of hot water in the center, looking almost like it was there to dominate the table.

Meng Chi had never been to a bar before and didn’t know how people usually ordered. Sitting up straight, she pressed a hand to her temple, actually shielding her face. She no longer dared to look at the people around them.

Others probably thought they’d come here to eat dinner.

She usually felt uncomfortable drawing attention, but never this tense. It was as if she didn’t want to catch the attention of one particular person.

Her gaze passed over the QR code on the table, and she realized it was for ordering. Jiang Sitian must’ve been placing the order earlier. She asked, “Did you order all of this just now?”

Her eyes swept over the crowded table, inevitably stopping on the large glass kettle in the center.

Jiang Sitian noticed and puffed out her chest proudly. “I remembered this bar had hot water on the menu. I know you don’t like drinking anything else—just hot water. How about it? Pretty thoughtful, right?”

Infected by Jiang Sitian’s enthusiasm, Meng Chi felt much less uncomfortable. She sighed and said, “This is way too much. You could soak your feet in it right here.”

Though her voice was soft, a server still overheard and said kindly, “Dear, you could—but we don’t recommend doing that here.”

After the servers left, Jiang Sitian held her hot water, leaned on the railing, and called down to the bartender. “Hey buddy, when I finish this kettle, bring me another one, okay?”

The bartender hadn’t expected her to remember. Watching her gulp down several mouthfuls of hot water from above, his expression grew complicated.

Meng Chi quietly lowered her head and drank her hot water. “.”

Jiang Sitian returned victorious, beaming. She excitedly opened several bottles of beer, stopping only after Meng Chi talked her out of opening them all.

The two chatted for a while. In between, Meng Chi took a few sips of alcohol. She rarely drank, had a low tolerance, and quickly felt less clear-headed than usual.

Maybe it was the alcohol emboldening her, or maybe she just wanted an excuse to blame it on the alcohol—Meng Chi casually glanced toward the nearby corner.

Jiang Sitian had a high tolerance and stayed rational. She quickly noticed and followed her gaze, understanding immediately. Lowering her voice, she said, “I didn’t expect this bar to be so… improper.”

“Huh?” Meng Chi looked confused.

“Those people might be doing that kind of work,” Jiang Sitian said, then clarified, “You know—special professions.”

Under the influence of alcohol, Meng Chi reacted more slowly than usual. Her eyes drifted unconsciously toward the corner again.

There were both men and women there, laughing and chatting together.

The woman stood slightly sideways, smiling as well. Her delicate white shoulder trembled faintly with laughter, and she didn’t even notice her strapless dress slipping down a little.