The Cinnabar Mole of a Beijing Circle Tycoon

On their second day in Dali, the sun was too strong, so Shen Qingyao didn't go out and stayed in the tea room on the first floor chatting with Fang Shuning.

The bamboo blind was lowered, filtering out most of the dazzling sunlight, leaving only a few streaks of light like scattered gold, which slowly moved across the tea table.

Fang Shuning was brewing Pu'er tea. Steam rose from the purple clay teapot, mingling with the sandalwood incense that perpetually filled the tea room, making one feel warm and sleepy.

She recounted the past two months on her fingers: the old woman selling milk fan at the alley entrance always liked to chat with her; the owner of the guesthouse next door invited her to climb Cangshan Mountain, but they got caught in the rain halfway there and both of them got soaked; she sat by Erhai Lake with her new friends, listening to the sound of the waves and singing off-key songs...

It was clear that she had been living a comfortable and free life for the past two months, and Shen Qingyao was genuinely happy for her.

Shen Qingyao held the warm teacup, her fingertips touching the rim, listening to her rambling.

The tea room was quiet, with only Fang Shuning's voice and the occasional sound of boiling water.

At noon, Cheng Qidong cooked a welcome dinner for Shen Qingyao.

A delicious aroma wafted from the small kitchen next to the tea room, a smoky scent of stir-fried scallions and ginger mingling with the freshness of mushrooms.

When Cheng Qidong, wearing a plain apron, brought out the last plate of braised chicken, a thin layer of sweat still clinging to his forehead, he smiled and said, "These are all local Dali home-style dishes. Try them out."

"Thank you, Brother Dong!"

Fang Shuning praised, "Qidong's craftsmanship is among the best in the ancient city."

The three sat around a stone table, with the bamboo curtain half-drawn to block the direct sunlight.

Shen Qingyao took a sip of the incredibly delicious wild mushroom soup. "It's so good!"

The group ate and chatted.

Cheng Qidong is a native of Dali. A few years ago, he went to Beijing, Shanghai and Guangzhou with a lot of enthusiasm. He worked hard and saved up some money. Tired of the fast pace of the city, he returned to his hometown and opened a homestay in this courtyard.

"Later, I took over two more shops in the old town, a bar and a coffee shop." Cheng Qidong added a bowl of rice to Shen Qingyao's bowl, his tone indifferent. "They're just casual businesses, earning enough to make a living, and enjoying a carefree life."

Shen Qingyao looked up at him. The man had gentle features and spoke with a soft, local accent, exuding a relaxed aura.

After dinner, Cheng Qidong came out of the kitchen wiping his hands and said to Shen Qingyao with a smile, "I have live music at my bar tonight, want to come over?"

Shen Qingyao was sharing her life with Meng Jiangyu when she heard this. She looked up, a faint smile in her eyes: "Okay."

Fang Shuning joked from the side, "You're lucky. His plum wine is exceptional. It won't get you drunk, and it even has a slightly sweet taste."

Cheng Qidong laughed out loud upon hearing this, and reached for his coat on the back of the chair: "Then it's settled, I'll come and call you later."

"good!"

As night fell upon the ancient city's bricks and tiles, Fang Shuning and Shen Qingyao walked along the stone-paved road to Cheng Qidong's bar.

The deafening drumbeats, carrying the aroma of alcohol, wafted over, neon lights danced on the swaying glasses, and the venue was already buzzing with excitement from the throng of people.

Cheng Qidong had already reserved the best view for the two of them.

He smiled and waved, pushing two glasses of chilled plum wine in front of the two of them; two green plums floated in the amber-colored liquid.

After sitting for a short while, Fang Shuning stood up, took the microphone from the resident singer, and waved it to the audience: "I'll add a performance at the last minute, as a gift to my best friend."

Cheng Qidong raised an eyebrow, and in perfect unison, picked up the guitar beside him, his fingertips plucking out a crisp intro.

As the familiar melody began to play, Shen Qingyao's fingertips paused slightly; it was "Special Person".

Fang Shuning's voice was slightly hoarse from drinking, yet exceptionally beautiful. Cheng Qidong's guitar playing gently enveloped her melody, and the lamplight fell upon the two of them, casting a warm glow.

Shen Qingyao held her wine glass, looking at the two people on the stage whose eyes were shining, and a faint smile appeared on her lips.

Seeing Fang Shuning's current enthusiastic and flamboyant demeanor, Shen Qingyao's eyes were filled with a fine layer of moisture.

Shen Qingyao took out her phone and took a picture of Fang Shuning on stage.

-

Shen Qingyao wanted to bring some local specialties for her roommates, so Fang Shuning took her to a tie-dye shop.

The tie-dye shop at the alley entrance was filled with a faint scent of indigo. Fang Shuning pulled Shen Qingyao and lifted the curtain to go inside. Everywhere they looked, there were blue and white fabrics hanging from bamboo poles, which swayed in the wind like the ripples of Erhai Lake.

"The landlady, Sister Fang, has a family tradition of craftsmanship," Fang Shuning said, picking up a handkerchief printed with a pattern of mountains and clouds. Her fingertips traced the delicate lines. "The dress I sent you last time was made here. It's really interesting."

Hearing the commotion, the proprietress came out from the inner room and greeted Fang Shuning with a smile, "Shuning, did you bring your friends over today?"

Fang Shuning nodded: "Sister Fang, my friend wants to make some small purses and hairbands!"

"Sure!" The proprietress enthusiastically brought over two small stools and handed over two snow-white cotton and linen squares. "We'll tie-dye them first."

Shen Qingyao rolled up her sleeves and used a rubber band to tie a crooked knot in one corner of the handkerchief.

The proprietress guided them on how to tie the fabric to make the patterns more dynamic; with nimble fingers, the plain square scarves took on a unique shape.

When the handkerchief was dipped into the indigo dye vat, the two of them crowded around the vat, staring intently.

Half an hour later, the dyed handkerchief was taken out to dry. The moment the rubber band was untied, the two of them couldn't help but exclaim in surprise.

The delicate blue patterns on the fabric are elegant and unique.

The proprietress helped them sew the fabric into small pouches and hairbands. Shen Qingyao picked up a pouch and hung it on her bag, then picked up a hairband and tied it in Fang Shuning's hair.

"It looks great!" She cupped Fang Shuning's face in her hands, her eyes crinkling with laughter. "It matches your dress perfectly today."

Fang Shuning raised her hand to touch the blue and white camellia in her hair, then turned to look at herself in the mirror, unable to hide the smile on her lips.

Sunlight streamed through the shop's wooden lattice windows, falling on the two people and on the blue and white fabrics, filling the room with a gentle, homey atmosphere.