A leisurely life starting in a bar after being reborn

That evening, Fu Yan asked Sister Zhou to cook a few more dishes.

For no other reason than that Chen Jian had come all this way, so they had to treat him properly. Sister Zhou asked a few people, and Fu Yan said three—himself, Chen Jian, and Xu Wenshu.

Chen Jian, unaware of Xu Wenshu's impending arrival, was charging his phone in the west wing. Hearing a woman's voice in the courtyard, he peeked out and saw Fu Yan helping a young woman remove her scarf. The two were quite close, and the woman was smiling with her head tilted to the side. The lamplight illuminated her face—she was a very beautiful woman.

Chen Jian pushed the door open a crack, then pulled it back inside.

He quickly touched his face, smoothed his hair, and then looked down at his jacket—it was wrinkled, and there was a drop of oil on the collar from the afternoon.

Never mind, there's no time to change it.

When Fu Yan led Xu Wenshu into the west wing, Chen Jian was already sitting upright with his hands on his knees, like he was in an interview.

"Chen Jian, my childhood friend, just came from Bincheng," Fu Yan introduced simply. "Wen Shu, Xu Wen Shu, my girlfriend."

"Hello, hello!" Chen Jian stood up, stretched out his hand and then pulled it back—his hand had just been holding the charging cable, and he was afraid of sweating—so he wiped it on his trouser leg a couple of times before stretching it out.

Xu Wenshu smiled and shook hands: "Hello, I've heard Fu Yan mention you."

"He mentioned it? What did he mention about me?" Chen Jian asked instinctively, then glanced at Fu Yan, who remained expressionless. "It certainly wasn't anything nice. He wouldn't say anything good about me."

Xu Wenshu was amused.

At the dinner table, Sister Zhou's cooking skills were as solid as ever—braised pork ribs, braised sea cucumber with scallions, steamed sea bass, garlic broccoli, plus a pot of sauerkraut and pork belly hot pot, all steaming hot.

Chen Jian picked up a piece of pork rib, chewed it a couple of times, and then started beating around the bush: "Wen Shu, where do you work?"

CCTV (China Central Television).

Chen Jian's chopsticks paused: "Yang—which central bank?"

"The central bank you're thinking of."

Chen Jian slowly put the ribs down.

He turned to look at Fu Yan, his eyes like he was looking at an alien. Then he turned to Xu Wenshu and looked her over carefully—beautiful, truly beautiful, and not just pretty, but the kind of beauty that would make the whole country swoon if she stood on stage.

"host?"

"Yes, I work on Channel 2."

Chen Jian took a deep breath, picked up his glass, and downed the wine in one gulp.

After putting down his cup, he suddenly leaned close to Xu Wenshu with a serious expression: "Wenshu, let me tell you something from the bottom of my heart—you need to see Fu Yan's true colors."

Fu Yan stopped using his chopsticks to pick up food.

"This kid has always had a knack for fooling girls since he was little." Chen Jian counted on his fingers, "In elementary school, he tricked his female deskmate into copying his homework, but it turned out she had written it wrong; in middle school, he lied to the teacher that he had a stomachache to avoid running, but he went to play basketball with a female classmate and got caught by the teacher; in high school, he lied to our female class monitor that he would tutor her in math, but after half a year of tutoring, her grades didn't improve but actually dropped..."

"It wasn't me lying, it's that they're just stupid," Fu Yan interjected.

Chen Jian ignored him and continued, "Look at him, how persuasive he is, he can make black seem white. You'd better be careful, don't be fooled by him!"

Xu Wenshu suppressed a laugh: "Then what do you think he'll lie to me about?"

"Liar? Definitely!" Chen Jian thought for a moment. "He's deceiving you! That kind of man is the best at deceiving people. Look at him, he's rich, handsome, and now he's good with words—how dangerous!"

Xu Wenshu finally couldn't hold back her laughter.

Fu Yan rolled her eyes.

Seeing this, Chen Jian immediately changed tactics, holding his wine glass and leaning closer with a sincere expression: "But speaking of which, Wen Shu, are there any single girls in your workplace?"

"..."

"I'm single too. Look at me, I'm hardworking and reliable, I can make barbecue, and I'll open a shop in Yanjing someday—could you keep an eye out for me?"

Xu Wenshu laughed so hard he slapped the table.

Fu Yan glanced at Chen Jian. After a couple of drinks, the kid was even more outspoken, but he had to admit that he had definitely livened up the atmosphere. Sister Zhou was peeking out from the kitchen, secretly amused.

That night, we drank quite a bit. Sister Zhou's sauerkraut and pork hot pot was almost empty, so she added more. Fu Yan opened two bottles of baijiu, and Chen Jian drank about a bottle and a half. In the middle of it, he insisted on showing Fu Yan his amazing skill of opening beer bottles with one hand—by biting them with his teeth—and almost broke his front teeth.

It was almost eleven o'clock when the show ended. Chen Jian was staggering as he walked. Fu Yan shoved him into the bed in the west wing, and Chen Jian fell asleep immediately, snoring louder than the old locust tree in the courtyard being blown by the wind.

-

The next morning, Chen Jian was woken up by the aroma of Zhou Jie's porridge.

Drinking a bowl of hot porridge after a hangover is a universal principle. Chen Jian drank two bowls and ate three meat buns before he felt better.

"My flight is this afternoon." Chen Jian wiped his mouth. "Brother Yan, no need to see me off, I can just take a taxi myself..."

"Come on, I'll take you there."

Fu Yan didn't give him a chance to refuse, and had Zhao Gang drive the A8 straight to the Capital Airport. Chen Jian didn't say much on the way, leaning back in the back seat and looking at the scenery outside the window. In March in Yanjing, the trees weren't fully green yet, but the forsythia along the roadside was in bloom, a bright yellow expanse.

Upon arriving at the airport, Fu Yan accompanied him to check-in. As they walked towards the security checkpoint, Fu Yan suddenly called out to him.

"Chen Jian".

"Um?"

"Regarding opening a shop, if..." Fu Yan paused, "...just ask if you need money. I can lend you some. Don't worry about money."

Chen Jian looked at Fu Yan but didn't answer immediately.

The two had known each other for over twenty years, playing in the mud together since they were toddlers. Chen Jian knew Fu Yan's temperament well—this wasn't just polite talk, it was the truth. But Chen Jian also knew himself; he was a proud man who would never ask for help if he could handle things on his own.

"Okay." Chen Jian nodded. "If you need it, I won't hesitate."

"Um."

"Then let's go."

"Let's go."

Chen Jian turned and took two steps, then turned back: "Brother Yan..."

"What?"

"Your girlfriend is really beautiful."

"Get lost!" Fu Yan laughed and cursed, then said nothing more.

Chen Jianchong gave him a thumbs up, then turned and entered the security checkpoint.

Fu Yan stood there watching his back disappear into the crowd, and only after a while did she turn around and walk back. Zhao Gang had already driven his car to the side of the road and was waiting. Fu Yan got in the car, leaned back in her seat, and didn't say a word.

Zhao Gang glanced at him in the rearview mirror: "President Fu, back to the courtyard house?"

"Um."

……

After seeing Chen Jian off, Fu Yan had some free time again.

Even he himself felt that this kind of leisure was a bit excessive.

During the day, he took Zhao Gang for a stroll around. In Yanjing, if you really wanted to have some fun, there were plenty of options. Fu Yan first went to Guangming Pavilion to listen to crosstalk, a small theater packed with people, cracking melon seeds and drinking tea. The performers on stage made the whole audience laugh with just a few words. Fu Yan sat in the third row, laughing louder than anyone else—he found himself particularly prone to laughter lately, probably because he had no worries.

I went to the Poly Theatre again to see a play, Meng Jinghui's "Rhinoceros in Love." Zhao Gang sat next to me, expressionless throughout. After the performance, Fu Yan asked him how he thought about it, and Zhao Gang thought for a moment and said, "I didn't understand it."

"That's right, you didn't understand it." Fu Yan patted him on the shoulder. "Understanding it would be worse."

The two also went to the National Centre for the Performing Arts for a concert, a chamber music performance by Mozart. Fu Yan sat in the front row on the second floor, listening with his eyes closed all night. He used to go to concerts often in New York; tickets for Carnegie Hall weren't hard to get, just expensive. The tickets here were much cheaper, but the quality was just as good—at least he couldn't tell the difference.