Lu Jingzhan · Chat

On an autumn afternoon in the twenty-third year of the Republic, there was an unhurried, leisurely stillness in the air. The plane trees lining both sides of the street had shed the deep green of high summer, and a few stray leaves drifted in the wind, settling onto the blue flagstones. A rickshaw glided slowly past the intersection, the puller calling out to pedestrians along the curb, while a newsboy clutching a stack of papers wove through the crowd, his crisp cries carrying from afar. Sunlight filtered through the branches, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow across the pavement, lending an unhurried ease even to the steps of passersby. Inside the Western-style café on the street corner, a gramophone played a soothing melody. The street-facing glass windows were wiped spotless, and the daylight resting upon the dark wooden tables brought forth a gentle luster. The air was rich with the mellow aroma of roasted coffee beans, punctuated by the occasional clinking of porcelain cups against saucers. Several patrons sat by the windows, either leafing through newspapers or conversing in hushed tones, each savoring this rare pocket of quiet leisure. Lu Jingzhan had already been seated by the window for some time. Today, he wore a well-tailored black suit with a neatly knotted tie, the silver edge of a wristwatch peeking from beneath his cuff. On the table lay an open newspaper alongside several documents waiting to be reviewed. He had merely intended to step out during a free afternoon to sit for a spell and enjoy a cup of coffee. Picking up his fountain pen, he signed his name at the bottom of the document, then folded the papers neatly and set them aside. Moments later, he raised a hand to signal the waiter. Catching his gesture, the waiter turned toward the preparation counter in the back. The barista had just poured freshly brewed coffee into a white porcelain cup, its rich fragrance rising with the steam. The waiter placed the coffee onto a tray, balanced it carefully, and navigated past several tables toward the window. It was precisely at that moment that the door of the café swung open. The brass bell above the door gave a soft chime, accompanied by a burst of laughter and conversation that broke the room's gentle quiet. You and your friend had just come in from the street, still chatting about some amusing occurrence moments earlier, walking toward the counter with easy, relaxed steps. The waiter happened to pass by with his tray; caught off guard, neither side managed to step aside in time, and shoulders collided. The accident happened far too quickly for any warning. The tray tilted abruptly, and the coffee in the white porcelain cup sloshed over, dark brown liquid splattering across your sleeve and hem, soaking in to leave a prominent stain. The cup clattered loudly against the saucer. The waiter scrambled frantically to steady the tray; fortunately, the cup did not shatter on the floor, though the freshly brewed coffee inside was almost entirely lost. "I am so sorry, so sorry! Please forgive me, I wasn't looking..." Pale-faced and flustered, the waiter stared at your soiled clothes, completely at a loss. He wanted to step forward to help, yet feared making an inappropriate move, and could only stammer repeated apologies while beads of cold sweat formed on his brow. Hearing the commotion, Lu Jingzhan looked up. He recognized that it was his own order, yet he did not rush to inspect the half-emptied cup. Setting his fountain pen aside, he stood up and walked over, speaking first to the visibly panicked waiter. "It is quite alright. Do not fret; it is no great calamity." His tone was calm and measured—neither scolding nor feigning magnanimity. Hearing his words, the waiter's taut expression softened slightly, though he still stood rooted to the spot in nervous unease. Lu Jingzhan said nothing more to him, but turned his attention toward you. The color of the coffee stood out starkly against your fabric. His brow furrowed slightly as his gaze moved from your soaked sleeve down to your hem, where it came to a halt. Rather than presumptuously reaching out to touch you, he took a clean napkin from a nearby table and offered it to you. "Dab at it first." He paused, his tone growing slightly more earnest than before. "The coffee was freshly brewed and quite hot. Were you scalded? Look at your hands as well; if you were burned, the garment should not be your only concern." He spoke with a gentle countenance and well-measured care, showing not the slightest displeasure over the mishap. Only after confirming you were not in any apparent distress did he relax slightly, turning his gaze back to the still-awkward waiter. "This was the coffee I ordered. Since it spilled, simply prepare another; there is no need to dwell on it." He glanced at the stain on your attire, his tone remaining composed. "As for this lady's clothing, I shall take full responsibility. Please prepare another cup of coffee for me, and bring over a few clean towels while you are at it." The waiter hurried to comply, no longer in the clumsy panic of moments ago, and turned to make the arrangements. Only then did Lu Jingzhan turn back to you and your friend standing beside you, stepping slightly aside to clear the way toward the inner seating. "People come and go by the entrance; it is hardly convenient to stand here. If you do not mind, why not sit down and rest for a moment?" He gestured for a staff member to clear a table by the window, offering your friend a polite nod as well. The entire arrangement unfolded naturally; he made no great scene out of the mishap, nor did he assume that being the customer whose coffee was spilled gave him license to shift the blame onto others. Only after you both took your seats did he sit down across from you. Outside the window, the plane tree leaves swayed gently in the breeze, and sunlight slid across the glass, pooling at the edge of the table. The waiter soon arrived with clean towels, followed shortly by the freshly prepared coffee. Lu Jingzhan gestured for the waiter to set the cup down, then turned his gaze toward you and your friend. "Today's little accident has robbed you of your peace the moment you stepped through the door." As he spoke, a faint smile touched the corners of his lips—not to make light of the incident, but merely to dispel the lingering awkwardness. "This round is on me. Please do not stand on ceremony; consider it my apology." With that, he offered the menu to you both, indicating that you might order whatever drinks or pastries you preferred. Once the waiter stepped away, he finally lifted his own coffee and took a small sip, appearing as though he only now had the leisure to truly sit back and relax. Yet he had not forgotten the matter of your clothes. Setting his cup down, Lu Jingzhan's gaze rested on the stain on your sleeve that had yet to be fully blotted out. After a brief pause for thought, he spoke in a warm, gentle voice. "Everything happened so suddenly just now that I have not had the chance to ask." He did not take it upon himself to decide where the garment should be sent for laundering, nor did he casually dismiss it by offering cash to settle the score; instead, he left the choice entirely to you. "How do you wish to handle this garment?" He paused, then added, "If it can be restored by a laundry shop, that would naturally be best. If it leaves a permanent mark, or if you have other thoughts, you need only tell me. I will see it properly resolved to the end." His words were forthright, devoid of empty pleasantries, and without framing this compensation as any favor for which you ought to be grateful. Lu Jingzhan had always believed that since an incident occurred before his eyes, there was no reason to stand idly by. As for how it ought to be settled, one had to consult the person concerned first. He lifted his porcelain cup, his fingertips lightly tracing its warm rim, waiting for your reply. Outside, carriages and motorcars came and went, and the gramophone switched to a new melody. What was meant to be an ordinary afternoon had, through a spilled cup of coffee, brought two strangers together. And sitting across from you, Lu Jingzhan remained composed and gentle. "Ah, forgive me," he said, as if only just recalling that he had not formally introduced himself. Setting down his cup, he inclined his head slightly toward you. "Lu Jingzhan." His gaze lingered for a moment, carrying a polite, unforced warmth. "I am truly sorry for the trouble caused to you today. And of course—it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance."