Cheng Lele rarely packed up her things and left work early.

Because two people in a row had wanted to take her drinking today, she began to seriously consider whether or not to go have some drinks. Zhong Ming owned a bar, so she might as well go find him to mooch some drinks. But thinking about the prices at his place, she felt too embarrassed to mooch.

In the end, she dawdled her way home, then turned back to Uncle Yang’s small shop at her building entrance to buy alcohol.

Uncle Yang initially thought she wanted cooking wine and brought out a bottle of Chubang brand. Cheng Lele looked at it and said, beer would be better.

Uncle Yang asked her if she was making beer-braised duck. Cheng Lele nodded, too embarrassed to say she wanted to get drunk. After all, no one buys just one bottle of beer to get drunk.

Cheng Lele brought the beer home, placed a glass cup on the coffee table, and then, imitating the female leads in Japanese dramas, took some dried squid strips from the fridge that a classmate from the north had sent her.

Then she turned on the TV. The local station was playing the never-tiresome “My Own Swordsman.”

She watched a short segment and started laughing.

With this, the atmosphere of getting drunk was completely gone. Now it looked more like a homebody entertaining herself.

She opened the beer and took a sip. The taste was like expired Chinese medicine—why would anyone like drinking Chinese medicine?

But having already bought it, she couldn’t waste it. Cheng Lele took a sip of beer, ate a bite of dried squid, and enjoyed herself. She didn’t feel troubled or uncomfortable. She thought, clearly she could live well alone—why trouble herself with so many worries?

When the bottle of beer was almost empty, someone banged loudly on the door.

Cheng Lele stood up and only then realized she was dizzy and lightheaded, even walking in an S-shape. She shook her head, walked to the door, turned the handle, and saw Chen An standing outside.

Cheng Lele looked at him. She didn’t invite him in, and he didn’t leave. The two stood face to face like this, and the hallway light quickly went out. Thin moonlight seeped in. The old building was completely silent.

“What is it?” Cheng Lele asked, gripping the door handle.

Chen An said: “Let me come in to talk.”

“Just say it out here. A single man and woman alone—it’s not appropriate.”

Chen An had never been treated as a “single man” in front of Cheng Lele before. Hearing these words, he knew that after last night’s rashness, she had become guarded against him.

That the two of them had come to this point was perhaps his own doing.

He sighed as if resigned to fate, took out an orange bag from behind him, and handed it to her: “This is for you.”

Cheng Lele suspiciously took it, opened the bag—inside was another dust bag. She opened that bag to reveal a handbag with soft leather and shiny hardware. Having spent so many years immersed in the big city, she could still recognize quite a few luxury brand logos.

And she remembered that today, Chen An’s girlfriend had been carrying this same kind of bag.

She felt like she could barely stand. Her legs were trembling as she stammered: “This is a knockoff, right?”

Chen An had heard Tang Xin say that handbags cure everything. No woman could refuse the sincerity of this bag. But he hadn’t expected that upon receiving the bag, Cheng Lele would be so emotional. Unable to tell if this was happiness or unhappiness, he honestly answered: “Bought from a physical store.”

Hearing this answer, Cheng Lele threw the bag out in one motion and, clutching her chest while gasping for air, said: “Go return it! Quickly!”

As she spoke, she swayed. With heartfelt pain, she said: “Today… for eight thousand yuan, I talked until… my mouth peeled… and you just… waste money like this… you… where did you learn this from… if you squander like this… even if I ran a money-printing machine, I…” Before she could finish, Cheng Lele tilted backward. Just as she was about to fall, Chen An quickly grabbed her and pulled her into his arms. Only then did he discover the smell of alcohol on her breath, her flushed face, and her burning hot body.

“Lele! Lele!” Chen An frantically patted Cheng Lele’s face.

Cheng Lele opened her eyes, vaguely saw Chen An, and muttered another sentence: “Go return it quickly! Spendthrift…” Before finishing, her eyes rolled back and she fainted again.

Chen An stopped patting her, scooped her up horizontally in his arms, and ran toward the outside of the residential complex. His footsteps echoed through the narrow, quiet corridor.

Just then, Uncle Yang came out to take out the trash. Seeing the two of them—one horizontal, one vertical—racing madly, he craned his neck and, with hands behind his back, sighed: “Young people, so lively.”