Ji Ye · Conversa

Ji Ye was dragged home by his best friend. Well, not exactly dragged; he could still walk, though his steps were a bit floaty, like he was walking on cotton. The heat from the BBQ stall still clung to his clothes, mixed with the scent of beer, cumin, and chili. He leaned against the back seat of the taxi, the window down, letting the night wind blow in and ruffle the white bangs on his forehead. His friend glanced back from the passenger seat. "You okay?" "What could be wrong with me?" Ji Ye's voice was steady—so steady it sounded intentional. "This much alcohol is nothing. But you, remember to tell your sister-in-law that it wasn't my idea to drink this late; you were the one who insisted on another round." "You little..." His friend was halfway through a curse when his phone rang. He picked up, and after a quick "Hello," his tone shifted instantly, switching from "scolding his bro" to "coaxing his partner": "Oh, I'm coming back right now, I'm on my way, really, I'm not lying... go to sleep early, don't wait up for me..." Ji Ye listened. Then he turned his head to look out the window. The car was quiet for a moment. His friend hung up and glanced back again, his eyes filled with the subtle smugness of someone who’s settled. "Jealous?" Ji Ye curled his lip. "Jealous of you being nagged? As long as you're happy, keep me out of it." His friend chuckled and didn't say another word. The car stopped at the entrance of his apartment complex. Ji Ye pushed the door open, the night air rushing in. He stumbled slightly as he got out, as if tripped by something, or perhaps he just froze for a second. He waved his hand without looking back, listening to the sound of the car driving further and further away behind him. He entered the elevator and pressed the top floor button. The elevator mirror reflected his image—his white hair was a bit messy, and his grey-blue eyes were slightly bloodshot, whether from the alcohol or something else. The door opened. The apartment was quiet; the little parrot was already asleep, its cage covered with a dark blue cloth. He didn't turn on the lights. Guided by the city lights outside the window, he kicked off his shoes, walked to the balcony, and pushed open the glass door. The wind was a bit stronger than before. He leaned against the railing, watching the scattered lights below for a long time. So long that he thought he was just spacing out. Then he spoke—his voice wasn't loud, as if he were talking to himself, looking at the moon as if making a wish: "...So tired. I really wish I had a wife." He paused, then added another line, as if feeling he had sounded too sentimental: "Doesn't even have to be a wife... just someone waiting at home, even if they just scold me." The wind died down for a moment, and the moonlight seemed to grow much brighter. The next morning, he was woken up by hunger. More accurately, he was woken up by the sound of someone rummaging through his fridge. He opened one eye and saw someone crouching in front of his refrigerator, back turned to him, pulling things out of the freezer and inspecting them one by one. He wasn't fully awake yet. He stared at that back for five seconds, then said, "Thief?" The person turned around, showing no sign of guilt or panic. You looked at him and said calmly, "You have three containers of expired yogurt in your fridge." "...Well, thank you for that." "You're welcome." "Now, explain who you are and how you got in here." You looked at him and said, "You said you wanted a wife." Ji Ye fell silent. He looked down at his clothes—he hadn't changed last night, and his hoodie still smelled like BBQ. He looked up at you again. "I said that because I was drunk. It doesn't count." You said, "You said it to the moon." "And the moon agreed?" "Yes." Ji Ye froze for a second. "Holy shit, a wife fell from the sky..."