The city at night always seemed to carry an unshakable air of bustle and noise, washing away the mental fatigue people had bottled up all day in the big city.

Though the strain on their bodies continued to mount, most people seemed willing to spend this brief time in exchange for a little mental numbness or happiness.

Perhaps it was the arrival of summer, but even in the old alleyways, plenty of restaurants stayed open despite having few customers.

Light spilled from their storefronts into the dark alleys. Passersby came through now and then, making the place feel a little less desolate.

At a table in the corner of a hot pot restaurant, right beside the floor-to-ceiling window.

A tall, slender young man in a suit, cool and aloof in bearing, held a glass and gazed aimlessly out at the street.

“Lishan, what’re you looking at? Are there pretty girls outside? That look in your eyes is so distant.”

A familiar male voice broke the stillness around the young man. A man of average build, with tousled hair falling over his brows and a bright smile, carried over a plate of food and sat down across from him. He, too, turned to look outside.

“I’m just spacing out. You won’t find any girls.”

A smile appeared on Mu Lishan’s ice-cold face. He poured a glass of the warm liquor beside him and slid it over.

“What a shame. I thought you, Mr. Mu the Blockhead, had finally come around. Your little fangirls would’ve been thrilled.”

The man squinted playfully and smiled at Mu Lishan before adding, “How come you remembered to warm the liquor today? Didn’t you used to drink cold beer all winter?”

Mu Lishan took a calm sip, raised an eyebrow slightly, and put on an air of helplessness.

“When I drink with you in winter, how often does the cold stuff not get swapped for something warm?”

“Because your health matters! I’m just looking out for you.” Huo Tong looked utterly unapologetic, wearing an expression that said he was obviously right and that settled it.

He shrugged and carefully placed the food from his plate into the pot.

Once he’d finished, Huo Tong raised his glass toward Mu Lishan with a smile and said,

“Enough about that. We haven’t seen each other in over a month. Come on, let’s clink glasses!”

“Cheers.” Mu Lishan didn’t mind, replying in his usual even tone. His glass rang crisply above the bubbling hot pot.

“Have you found a job lately?”

After they clinked glasses, Mu Lishan took a small sip and watched Huo Tong’s expression as he asked.

He and Huo Tong had known each other for nine years: three years as deskmates in middle school, then a brief separation when Mu Lishan went to a private high school, and finally, by coincidence, they both enrolled in the same business administration program at university.

Now they’d graduated and were at the age when people ran around anxiously looking for work. Mu Lishan had a family business waiting for him to inherit, but Huo Tong, who came from an ordinary family, had clearly paid the price for choosing the wrong major.

At Huo Tong’s words, his bright expression faltered. A trace of bitterness crept into his smile.

“Still nothing. I went to seven or eight companies again today. I handed in my résumé, went through the motions, and they told me to go home and wait for a reply. Some of them didn’t even meet with me.”

He shook his glass helplessly, gazed at his reflection in it, and said with a self-mocking smile:

“You know how it is in our field. Even master’s graduates from top schools have a hard time finding work. Unless you start your own business or inherit a fortune, there’s basically no way forward.”

Rather than looking bitter, Huo Tong seemed more resigned.

After all, four years ago, he’d chosen this major himself, on the strength of an idea and a burst of youthful enthusiasm.

He’d made his choice, so he had to take responsibility for it.

Instead of blaming something now, he might as well dive back into the crowd and keep looking for work.

He drained his glass, filled it again, and looked at the foam at the top as he tried to encourage himself:

“If I still haven’t found a job in another month, I’ll switch fields! It’s not like this is the only thing I can do. I can get certified and compete with Chinese teachers for a job or something!”

Seeing him like this, Mu Lishan couldn’t help but feel for him. Concern showed through his usually placid expression.

“You could come work at my company. I can’t offer you an executive position, but I can get you a regular management job.”

“Thanks, but no. You don’t like abusing your power, and… I wouldn’t like it either.” Huo Tong paused, then looked at him gratefully and scratched his cheek.

He knew Mu Lishan wasn’t happy with the life he was living now. If Mu Lishan made an exception and used his privilege because of him, Huo Tong would rather he didn’t.

“By the way, Lishan, do you still paint?”

Huo Tong made his tone more upbeat, lifted the beef in his hand, and changed the subject.

Mu Lishan had always loved painting. Huo Tong thought that if it weren’t for the family business, he would’ve become a painter.

“I haven’t painted since I took over the company.” Mu Lishan’s hand paused almost imperceptibly. A flicker of unusual emotion crossed his calm eyes, and he shook his head.

“Is it because you don’t have time? Or is there some other reason?” Huo Tong asked, a note of regret in his voice.

“No. I’m just not in the mood anymore. Or maybe I just don’t know what to paint now.”

Mu Lishan’s voice was calm as still water, but Huo Tong could sense a helplessness in his heart.

He wanted to say something comforting, but he knew better than anyone that words were usually meaningless at times like this.

In the end, he let out a quiet breath and raised the bottle high toward Mu Lishan.

“Then let’s forget everything tonight and drink our fill!”

He waved the bottle at Mu Lishan, whose eyes still held unspoken thoughts, and smiled gently in the steam rising from the hot pot.

“Come on! Let’s drink till we drop!”

Mu Lishan gathered his thoughts. Seemingly caught up in Huo Tong’s smile, he raised his bottle in reply.

“Till we drop.”

The two glass bottles clinked with a bright, ringing sound.

The two young men, each with his own thoughts yet still on the same wavelength, drank down every drop, along with the worries they’d kept bottled up for so long.

... ...

... ...

The cool night breeze carried the faint chill particular to late spring. It swept through the broadleaf trees lining the southern street, stirring a soft rustle.

On the road, two young men stumbling along stood out against the street.

Huo Tong supported Mu Lishan, who was far too drunk to stand, as they staggered toward the crosswalk. The cold wind slipped down Huo Tong’s collar, sobering him up a little.

“Lishan, from now on I’m definitely keeping an eye on how much you drink… You always look like you can hold your liquor, but your limit’s ridiculously low.”

Huo Tong glanced at the man slumped over his shoulder, who seemed to have already fallen asleep, and smiled helplessly as he walked on, talking to himself.

He was still fairly clearheaded. They’d drunk about the same amount, but Mu Lishan just couldn’t hold his liquor.

The main thing was, this guy never flushed when he drank, and he was aloof to begin with.

One moment he’d be sitting there with the same calm expression as a statue; the next, he might just collapse face-first onto the table.

“The subway station’s just across the road… We still have to cross the road.”

He kept talking to himself to stay alert, and at last slowly made his way to the crosswalk.

Though this was an old neighborhood, the traffic under the lights never stopped. There was little peace and quiet to be found.

He stood there for a long while, watching the nighttime traffic stream past like steel beetles marching in formation. Restlessness began to rise in him.

At last, the light across the street turned green. The cars nearby slowed to a stop, and the ones farther away stopped accelerating. Huo Tong moved forward.

There weren’t many pedestrians along this road, and the two of them were the only ones crossing now.

They crossed half the crosswalk on unsteady legs, safe and sound.

Huo Tong looked up at the traffic light. There were only a little over thirty seconds left, so he prepared to hurry.

At that very moment, a blinding light suddenly stabbed straight into his eyes.

On the right side of the road, an earthmover that should’ve been slowing to a stop suddenly accelerated like it had gone mad. Its horn blared through the night, deafening.

He stared wide-eyed at the truck hurtling toward them. The nearness of death made every hair on his body stand on end, and the shock wiped away his drunkenness completely.

He tried to shove the person on his shoulder away as hard as he could, but his drunken body clearly didn’t have the strength for it.

Before the person he’d pushed could hit the ground, the truck’s pale headlights and deafening engine swallowed them both.

“…Thud!”

The truck’s screeching brakes. The traffic lights changing back and forth. The chaotic street. Bodies sprawled at crooked angles. The terrified crowd scattering, then slowly gathering again.

Amid the wail of sirens, beneath the pale streetlights, blood flowed from the two bodies, dark yet starkly visible.

As if cursed, two streams of blood from different sources, several meters apart, somehow flowed together to form a bizarre pattern.