FO | Chapter 5

Two sentences, combined into an extraordinarily effective hangover cure.

Zhou Suiming was still holding the empty glass he had drained. The square ice cube inside had not completely melted, and a chill radiating from the glass walls jolted him abruptly out of his tipsy haze.

The dining table appeared before his eyes, followed by the clatter of utensils hitting the floor. Beneath the tablecloth, a hazy scene came into view: sticky, taut suit trousers. Then there was Zheng Huaiyou's hand pressed against his partner's lower back, and his own prophetic remark: “Your friend's husband is pretty controlling, huh?”

Zhou Suiming's throat tightened. He wanted something to drink to ease it, but his alcohol was gone, and all he could do with his open mouth was speak.

“I don't think that's a,” he said very slowly, choosing his words as carefully as he could, “flaw.”

Zheng Huaiyou was quiet for a moment. “But to a lot of people, it is.”

No wonder he kept getting dumped, Zhou Suiming thought with a quiet sigh. “Good and bad are relative. One person's honey is another person's poison. Some people can't accept it, but that doesn't mean you did anything wrong. It only means you weren't right for each other.”

“Is that supposed to comfort me?” Zheng Huaiyou asked with a smile.

“It's the truth, and it's also a universal principle.”

Zheng Huaiyou couldn't help it and laughed softly. “You really have a big heart.”

That evaluation made Zhou Suiming raise an eyebrow. “You have two hearts. Added together, they're pretty big too, aren't they?”

All right, Zheng Huaiyou's left cheek dimple appeared again. We really are pretty alike, he said.

Zhou Suiming was temporarily caught by that little whirlpool. After a brief pause, he said, Yeah, a little more alike than I expected.

“But how could two people ever be exactly the same? Once you get to know each other better, you'll find the differences.”

Zheng Huaiyou nodded. “We've known each other for a year already, haven't we?”

Was he doing that on purpose? Zhou Suiming pretended to agree. “Oh, right. We've known each other for a year, met three times, and only just exchanged contact information today. Wow, compared to all the random people around us, we're absolutely at the good-friends level.”

Fine, fine. Zheng Huaiyou's smile did not change as he finished his Negroni and raised a hand in surrender. “I can't argue with you.”

The atmosphere eased for the moment, as if the earlier interlude had never happened. Attack, then defense. What a classic pattern.

The bartender watching them from a distance also assumed they were having a pleasant conversation. Seeing their empty glasses, he asked if they wanted another round.

The two of them fell silent at the same time for several seconds, and neither ordered anything else.

Zheng Huaiyou paid the bill. He had said he would buy one drink, and he really had bought only one. They retrieved their coats, put them on, left the lounge, and took the elevator down together.

Once inside, they separated to opposite sides and each claimed a patch of space, standing side by side. Zheng Huaiyou seemed to be drawn to the advertising panel beside him, an introduction to the hotel's winter afternoon-tea package. It was only two short lines, but he read them with extraordinary seriousness.

It was not until the elevator doors closed that, in the mirrored reflection, Zhou Suiming saw two silhouettes: a jacket beside a trench coat, similar in height and alike in build.

That watery scent from Zheng Huaiyou rose around the tip of his nose again, misting upward until it nearly drowned him. Zhou Suiming kept both hands in his pockets, clutching the thing inside. His fingernail scraped repeatedly over the square plastic wrapping, creasing it with a deep mark.

The elevator descended steadily. The car was silent as an empty room, all the way to the ground floor.

When they stepped out of the hotel, the night was several degrees colder. Once they reached the smoking area, Zheng Huaiyou reached for his cigarette case, and Zhou Suiming finally told him the truth.

“Ah, sorry. I think I forgot to bring your lighter.”

Zheng Huaiyou's gaze lingered on the side pocket of his jacket for a moment. “Oh.” He did not seem to mind. “It's fine. Next time.”

Two people who had met because of a lighter now found themselves without a flame. Zheng Huaiyou could only borrow one from someone smoking nearby.

The other man was generous and simply gave the lighter to Zheng Huaiyou before leaving. It was only a cheap one, after all.

Zheng Huaiyou lit his cigarette, and only then did Zhou Suiming remember his own pack: he had set it on the bar when they sat down in the lounge and forgotten to take it.

“Do you mind if I smoke one of yours?”

After asking, Zheng Huaiyou waved the cigarette in his hand at him, red apple*, its packaging decorated with a little green worm eating an apple.

How could he mind? Zhou Suiming had noticed outside the set last time that they even smoked the same brand.

So he took one, and Zheng Huaiyou saw the matter through to the end, lighting it for him.

Their two streams of smoke mingled. The passersby in the smoking area gradually cleared out, leaving only the two of them, and conversation became unavoidable. This time, Zheng Huaiyou took the initiative and asked how often Zhou Suiming smoked.

Not that often, actually. He replied that he smoked more heavily only when he was troubled or confused, such as during work or in certain difficult situations.

“I used to do outdoor photography. I couldn't sleep at night, so I relied on cigarettes to stay awake. Eventually it became a habit. Later, even though I stopped doing that work, I kept the habit.”

Zheng Huaiyou picked out the key point. “Outdoor photography?”

“That was all last century.”

Zhou Suiming did not elaborate. Instead, he tossed the question back at him. “What about you? When did you start smoking?”

Zheng Huaiyou took a drag and spoke only after a while. “High school.”

That early? It was Zhou Suiming's turn to be surprised. If he imagined Zheng Huaiyou as a student, he would have pictured someone quiet and reserved, perhaps even the model student teachers singled out to catch classmates breaking the rules.

“I wouldn't have guessed. I thought you only smoked socially.”

Zheng Huaiyou's lips curved. “Doesn't that fit your expectations?”

There he went again, far too good at probing at exactly the right moment. Zhou Suiming paused. “I didn't say it was a bad thing.”

Really? The rhetorical question was deliberately vague. Zheng Huaiyou did not pursue it. He unlocked his phone and called a car.

Just as Zhou Suiming thought the subject had gone cold, Zheng Huaiyou put his phone away, slowly blew out a smoke ring, and suddenly spoke. “Because I injured my shoulder back then. It took a long time to heal, and I happened to discover that smoking could relieve the pain. I smoked secretly a few times, and then started on and off, all the way until now.”

……That was a lot to take in, but Zhou Suiming had caught the key point too.

“Relieve the pain? Was it badly injured?”

Zheng Huaiyou shook his head. “No. I was just too young to endure it at the time. It was my bad habit.”

Was the bad habit his inability to resist smoking, or his inability to resist something else? Zhou Suiming did not ask. The hooks Zheng Huaiyou had dangled all night had nearly torn him open, and his intuition told him that if he kept following them, his mind would lose its clarity again. So he took out his phone and said he was going to call a car too.

After that, their conversation remained superficial.

“My car's here.”

Zheng Huaiyou tossed out the words at just the right moment. Soon, a car approached from far away with its hazard lights flashing. Zhou Suiming narrowed his eyes and said he still had a kilometer to go.

Before getting in, Zheng Huaiyou said goodbye to him. He said, See you next time.

Every time, the other man was the one who abruptly withdrew and left first. Even after the car had vanished completely, Zhou Suiming remained standing where he was, his phone empty of any ride request. He had not called a car at all. His own car was still parked beneath Zheng Huaiyou's company building, for fuck's sake.

He stubbed out his cigarette against the smoking post, tipped his head back, and drew a deep breath. Then he opened his phone and sent a message.

Ming: I have a bad habit too.

Half a minute later, the reply came.

You: Smoking?

Ming: Being able to endure too much.

This time, the reply took nearly five minutes.

You: Yeah, I noticed that before.

Zheng Huaiyou had to be smiling right now. Zhou Suiming was certain of it. Inside the car, that whirlpool on his cheek would have shallowly hollowed out after he replied to the message, then deepened again, all the way to this moment.

He sent another message.

You: So it turns out we're opposites.