Chapter 18: Adults running away from the home

At 8:40 p.m., Lin Yuhan, lightly made up, was dropped off at the bar by her father’s driver.

“Thanks, Uncle Yuan.”

“No trouble. Be careful with your friends, Yuhan. Call if you need me—I’ll be outside.”

Lin Yuhan nodded. There was little to worry about; the bar was owned by her friend’s family. No one dared cause trouble here.

Growing up in a government compound, most of her friends were from well-off families, rich or influential.

This bar was their usual hangout. Though newly of age, they’d been here many times before.

“Yuhan!”

At the entrance, her heavily made-up friends greeted her warmly, grabbing her hands affectionately.

“Why so plain today? Hiding from someone?”

“Nah… just didn’t feel like dressing up.”

“At least wear a skirt! It’s so hot—jeans and a lace hat? You’re not uncomfortable?”

“It’s fine. I like it.” Lin Yuhan smiled.

She was different from her friends. They dressed flamboyantly, craving male attention to feed their vanity.

If some clueless guy tried hitting on them, they’d gang up and chew him out. They relished toying with men like playthings.

Lin Yuhan had no interest in that. She just wanted a couple of cocktails to distract herself, to keep Meng Zhi’s memories from haunting her when she closed her eyes.

Settling into their second-floor VIP booth, she ordered her usual Negroni and sat quietly, listening to her friends chatter. Sometimes, friend gatherings were like this—they didn’t care if you were happy, just that you showed up to maintain the bond.

Her drink arrived soon. Taking a sip, the gin’s aroma and Campari’s bitterness spread across her lips, finally easing her tension.

“Why’s there no warm-up music today?” she asked.

“Oh, you didn’t hear?” a friend bragged. “We hired a band for a residency. They’re about to go on. See if they’re your vibe.”

“Not interested…” Lin Yuhan looked away, taking another sip. She’d never liked loud, chaotic things.

But then, her glass froze midair.

Under the neon lights’ dim, sultry glow, a group of girls clinked glasses by the stage.

In the middle, Lin Yuhan saw a familiar figure.

She almost thought she’d seen wrong.

“Cheers!”

After downing her drink, Feng Xiyao’s cheeks flushed. She slung an arm around Meng Zhi’s neck, smug. “Told ya! Isn’t he hot?”

“No way, Xiao Yao, for real? Your mom got you a brother this good-looking?”

“Too perfect. This is straight out of a romance novel.”

“Is your brother single? Can I get his number?”

“Shoo, shoo.” Feng Xiyao waved them off, then winked playfully at Meng Zhi. “My brother’s got high standards. Want his attention? Don’t mess up on stage.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll give our brother a guitar solo just for him.”

“Our brother? You little flirt, already swooning before the show? I’ll spank you!”

Meng Zhi watched their playful banter, a bit exasperated but smiling faintly.

In their last life, when Feng Xiyao was in her band, he’d met these girls.

They were all sweet, likable, and fun.

Back then, she dragged him to every gig as her audience, then pulled him to drink with the band until the bar closed.

But eventually, they all drifted back to their own lives—college, jobs, marriage. Only Feng Xiyao stuck with it.

Meng Zhi knew they’d part ways someday. For now, let them make happy memories.

“Hey, it’s time.”

At the bartender’s call, Feng Xiyao and the others set down their drinks and grabbed their instruments.

“Here’s to crushing it!”

Slinging on her guitar, Feng Xiyao darted over, planted a quick kiss on Meng Zhi’s cheek, and scampered onto the stage amid her bandmates’ cheers.

Caught off guard, Meng Zhi couldn’t dodge. He shook his head, sighing.

Fine.

Call it her good-luck charm for the show.

He’d let it slide.

“…Yuhan? Yuhan?”

Her friend’s voice snapped Lin Yuhan out of her daze, excitedly whispering, “It’s starting.”

The lights dimmed, hiding the loss and confusion in her eyes. She didn’t glance at the stage, instead fixing her gaze on the boy sipping beer near the front.

Sensing something, he turned, scanning the crowd. Lin Yuhan shrank back into the booth’s sofa, biting her lip hard.

The Negroni’s taste lingered, but the gin’s aroma and vermouth’s sweetness had faded, leaving only Campari’s bitter aftertaste.

So bitter.

Suddenly, she hated her favorite cocktail.

Onstage, drums and guitars kicked in. The girl in the cap gripped the mic, her voice clear and vibrant:

“Still young, still counting dreams.”

“I’m already missing the past.”

Her singing was pure, powerful. When she hit the chorus—“I once ran away from home, wanting to go to the world’s end with you”—the crowd erupted.

Lin Yuhan watched her, effortless and radiant under the spotlight, feeling a pang of envy, even jealousy.

The boy below, drinking his beer, watched her too.

His eyes reflected only her figure on stage.

Lin Yuhan remembered how Feng Xiyao had kissed his cheek before going up. She recalled her own first kiss with Meng Zhi—sitting beside him, taking deep breaths to calm her nerves, then stealing a quick peck when he wasn’t looking.

She’d fled, face buried in her hands, until her racing heart settled.

She looked at the girl onstage again.

“Staying out all night is our grown-up way of running away.”

“Years from now, will we laugh at this, or will we reminisce?”

“This useless me right now~ Ohh~”

“Not gonna lie, they’re pretty good,” her friend said, nudging her excitedly. “Our bar’s got an eye for talent, huh… Yuhan?”

She saw Lin Yuhan staring blankly toward the stage, her eyes faintly red.

“Yuhan? You okay? Did the song move you to tears?”

Lin Yuhan didn’t answer.

She was thinking, years from now, would she reminisce?

Miss the moment she kissed Meng Zhi’s cheek.

And mock herself for watching this girl smile and wave at him now.