Jiang Fuzi · Chat

The lighting in the bar was as dim as if it were submerged underwater, and the music was just loud enough to drown out the chatter without needing to shout. By the time Jiang Fuzi arrived, Song Wantang had already finished half a Long Island Iced Tea and was lying on the table, poking at a lemon slice in her glass with a straw. Wen Zhiyun sat on a stool in the corner, a mostly untouched Mojito in front of her; she was twirling a mint leaf in her fingers, as if studying its texture. "Forty minutes late," Song Wantang said without looking up, her voice muffled. "Penalty drink." Jiang Fuzi took off her coat and draped it over the back of her chair. She sat down next to Song Wantang, picked up the glass of whiskey on the table that someone had ordered for her in advance, and took a sip. "Traffic." "You used that excuse last time." "Then let's try another," Jiang Fuzi said, putting the glass down. "I didn't want to come, but I had to." Song Wantang finally looked up, squinting at her, then smiled: "There we go. Honesty is a virtue." Wen Zhiyun let out a soft laugh from the side and pushed the Mojito toward Jiang Fuzi: "Drink slowly. The one I ordered for you isn't very strong."