It was past ten o’clock at night when Diao Zhuo pulled the car over near the Small South Gate. The beautiful woman in the passenger seat glanced around and was about to step out, when Diao Zhuo caught her wrist — she was quick as lightning, pressing her hand over his lips before they could land.

“I’ve got lipstick on — don’t kiss it off.” Ba Yunye warned him.

“Kiss it off and put it on again.”

“Get lost.”

“You look truly beautiful tonight.” His hand rested at the back of her neck, his thumb stroking her earlobe. “I regret picking out that dress for you.”

“Is that you praising me, or praising yourself?” She had done her makeup carefully tonight — like a little vixen, stunning beyond measure.

“Praising you.” Diao Zhuo got out of the car, walked around to the other side, and opened her door.

She didn’t get out. “I want you to carry me down.”

Diao Zhuo fixed her with a look. “I want to carry you back home.”

Ba Yunye pinched his chin. “You’re introducing me to clients — not a boyfriend.”

Diao Zhuo put his arms around her waist and lifted her out of the car, but still wouldn’t let go. He was hopelessly in love with this woman — couldn’t stop himself — it was in his bones, no remedy could cure it. Damn it.

Ba Yunye patted him on the back, smiling with a hint of scheming intent: “Darling, if you don’t let go, I’m going to have to use force.”

The bar they’d arranged to meet at had a giant “K” for its sign, followed by a glowing row of letters reading “LiquorStore.” At a small long table in the middle of the room, Diao Zhuo’s crew of friends was already there — some with girlfriends by their sides, the table piled high with all sorts of drinks in every color imaginable.

Diao Zhuo was about to head over when Ba Yunye stopped him. “You’re late — they’re bound to make you drink three glasses as self-punishment.”

“You don’t know how we drink — there’s no rule about self-punishment drinking.”

Ba Yunye listened, and thought to herself — this crowd is surprisingly refined? She was still following him over when she heard Diao Zhuo say —

“At least three bottles.”

“Hold on.” She grabbed his arm. “Make a bet with them — you don’t have to drink at all, and instead they each have to down a whole bottle.”

“Bet what?”

Ba Yunye whispered a few words to him.

The direct and no-nonsense northwestern men thoroughly disapproved of her scheme. “Is that how you treat your future clients?”

“You coming or not?”

Diao Zhuo put both hands in his pockets. “We’ll do it your way.”

Ba Yunye took a cigarette and went in, taking a seat at a table for two, pretending to smoke. Diao Zhuo walked over to the long table, and sure enough, that boisterous bunch immediately started hooting and shoved three bottles of beer at him, telling him to down them in one go. Diao Zhuo shot a glance toward Ba Yunye, then clamped a hand down on the shoulder of the loudest instigator — Da Qiang — “Let’s make a bet before we drink.”

“Since when does this guy not drink straight away!” Da Qiang got a good grip on him and wouldn’t let go. “All right, name it — what’s the bet?”

Diao Zhuo deliberately scanned the room, then pointed in Ba Yunye’s direction. “How’s that woman over there?”

“She’s stunning! Could be mixed heritage, or maybe an ethnic minority.” Da Qiang, who was always complaining that his hospital work left him no time to date, put on a look of utter infatuation and threw his arm around Diao Zhuo’s shoulder. “What are you thinking?”

“I get that woman over here within one minute — each of you downs a bottle.”

The men didn’t take it seriously. “There’s nothing difficult about that, if you can actually charm her in one minute.” “You guys give him too much credit — I bet on ten minutes.”

Diao Zhuo idly twirled the bottle opener. “Is it a deal?”

The men exchanged glances — “Diao Zhuo, just to dodge a few bottles, are you seriously going to do this?” “Isn’t this going too far? You’re not the type.” “That woman… don’t tell me she’s a foreigner. Take my advice, don’t embarrass us Chinese people.” “Don’t mind them, ha — let him go, I want to see if he’s actually got the gall to pull it off! Ten minutes, and if the woman doesn’t call the police, you win.”

Diao Zhuo stood up.

“He’s actually going…” Da Qiang was utterly stunned.

From the corner of her eye, Ba Yunye saw Diao Zhuo heading her way, and quietly suppressed a smile.

“Miss — does drinking alone get lonely?” Diao Zhuo sat down across from her and plucked the cigarette from between her fingers, tucking it between his own lips.

This move made his friends suck in a collective sharp breath. “Dammit, Diao Zhuo tonight… what’s gotten into him?” “That woman isn’t his type — can he actually pull this off?” “We’d better watch — if the woman calls the police, we’ll say Diao Zhuo had too much to drink and drag him back.”

They exchanged a few lines of banter. Ba Yunye couldn’t keep a straight face any longer. She stood up and asked him: “One question — are you asking me over, or not?”

“Over.” Diao Zhuo gave a tug, she landed on his lap, and he pressed his hand to the back of her head and kissed her deeply.

His whole crew of friends was utterly floored. Someone looked down at their watch — barely five minutes had passed.

Diao Zhuo brought Ba Yunye over, pointed at the drinks on the table. “Drink.”

Despite not understanding a thing, the group of men decisively downed a bottle each.

Dong Bai, the tall man with glasses who worked for a fashion magazine, had been studying Ba Yunye for quite some time, trying to figure out whether she was a new catalog model. Finally he asked: “Miss, are you… a model?”

Ba Yunye shook her head.

“Do you and Diao Zhuo… know each other?”

Ba Yunye glanced at Diao Zhuo, tilted her head, and leaned against him. “My man — Diao Zhuo.”

The moment those words landed, several men descended on him at once. “You absolute scoundrel — you had a girlfriend and didn’t say a word, and you played us like fools!” “And all that stuff about charming some woman in one minute — charm this!” “Penalty drinks!”

The women at the table paid no attention to the men’s drinking contest and crowded around Ba Yunye with curiosity. “Are you mixed heritage?” “You’re so tall — you’re really not a model?” “Are you from Xi’an?”

“Yunnan.” Ba Yunye always only answered the last question.

“Wow, so are you an ethnic minority?”

“…I suppose so.”

“Can you do the peacock dance?”

Ba Yunye was completely thrown. “…No.”

Why would every ethnic minority from Yunnan know the peacock dance???

Once the men had finished their round of rowdy punishment drinking, they leaned in close to Diao Zhuo one by one: “You two look so right together — you should be with someone like her.” “Wait, no, this one’s too beautiful — I’m already a little worried for you.” “This time listen to your friends — hold on to her, will you put in some real effort?” “What does she do? Would she be interested in shooting print ads? I’ve got connections…”

Meanwhile, Ba Yunye had already launched into her sales pitch with the women: “This is our club’s official account… adding me directly works too. Right — off-road team, I have a Jeep Wrangler… we run western routes, all kinds of routes into Tibet, trekking too — Yuibeng Village, Motuo, all of it… even if you want to climb Everest, I can introduce you to a reliable Sherpa guide… the places we take you, most tourists never see, tour groups can’t get there… drones? Of course — standard equipment, we’ll film you from every angle and make you look gorgeous, free photo editing included. These are some short clips I filmed for previous clients — take a look…”

The men were drawn into this topic too. Dong Bai, who had been set on recruiting her for a print campaign, asked in astonishment: “You’re an off-road tour guide?!”

Ba Yunye nodded, and kept going — talking about the Qinghai trip they were planning in the coming days. Since she’d taken more than a dozen groups of clients there, she had plenty to say.

Ba Yunye made her way around the table with a drink in hand, and everyone ended up adding her on WeChat — they pored over her recent itineraries and fired questions at her from all directions. Ba Yunye kept pitching other routes: “…Everyone says Nyingchi is the little Jiangnan of Tibet — but really, Jiangnan is just the eastern version of Nyingchi. Come with me and I’ll take you to see the Patriarch Glacier, and we’ll catch baby Tibetan pigs and roast them over a fire.”

“The Patriarch Glacier?”

“That’s right — no tour group will ever get you there, but we can in an off-road vehicle. Whether you actually get to see it is pure luck — if it’s covered in cloud, you’ve made the trip for nothing. But if the clouds clear, you’ll see that the shape of the glacier looks exactly like the side profile of a great leader.”

One couple immediately put down a deposit, booking a spot for late March the following year to go to the Nyingchi Peach Blossom Festival. “Master Ba, come to Qinghai with us! We love listening to you talk.” The young woman grabbed her hand, and seemed to have become her fan on the spot.

“Our dates clash, otherwise I’d lead you there myself.” Ba Yunye showed her the itinerary. “In a few days I’ve got the western Sichuan ring road — that route is great too. The women can admire the Khampa men, the men can admire the Danba beauties. You’ll pass through plenty of famous spots — Yading, Seda, and you can even watch a sky burial.”

“Oh, I want to go to all of them…” the fan was torn.

Da Qiang clapped Diao Zhuo on the shoulder. “Man, since you walked in, you haven’t given us a proper look — your eyes have been stuck on your Master Ba the whole time. That’s not like the old you.”

“Have I?” Diao Zhuo pulled his gaze back.

His crew of friends found that when you first met Ba Yunye, it was easy to be misled by appearances and assume she was the kind of woman who needed to be put on a pedestal before she’d stay quietly by your side. Then you talked to her and found her refreshingly direct, and drinking with her felt like drinking with a buddy — the longer you talked, the more she felt like one of the guys.

“Good on you…” Dong Bai’s elbow nudged him quietly. “Where did you find this treasure? Does she have a younger sister or cousin? Don’t forget your brother either — I’m still single!”

Diao Zhuo didn’t think much of it. Dong Bai had no shortage of beautiful women around him, he was just spoiled for choice and never settled down.

Before they knew it, it was past two in the morning. Every drink on the table was gone, and the group was in various states of drunk and collapsed, with only a few still sober enough to call for designated drivers.

Ba Yunye was drunk too, her words a little slurred, her walking unsteady — without Diao Zhuo propping her up, she might well have collapsed to the floor. Once outside, the wind was bitterly cold. Diao Zhuo stripped off his outer jacket and draped it over her. She kicked off her heels and wanted to walk barefoot to look at the ancient city wall — so he simply lifted her onto his back.

“I want to eat wonton soup!” She was sprawled on Diao Zhuo’s back, giving her drunken silliness free rein, her voice very loud. “Tang dynasty! The kind from the Tang dynasty!”

“Tang dynasty?”

Ba Yunye’s hand waved vaguely forward: “The kind Princess Taiping ate on a street stall in ‘Palace of Desire’!”

Diao Zhuo finally understood. That she’d seen such an old television drama… He vaguely remembered passing a late-night stall somewhere around here, so he carried her along from memory, while she belted out a folk tune from his back.

Not a proper song — a little folk ditty: an old version of “Farewell to My Dear One.”

“My little darling walks her man to the door, hey hey! Walks him to the gate facing north! Look up and there’s a stone tortoise bearing a stele! If you ask what sin has the tortoise committed—”

A stone tortoise bearing a stele… Diao Zhuo thought — what sins must I have committed in a past life?

From a distance he spotted a small, simple stall with a red sign bearing several rows of bright yellow characters that read: hand-pulled noodles, braised pasta, small steamed buns, rice noodles, and wonton soup — nine yuan each. The old man running the stall was dozing, but when these two sat down, he gave a yawn and got up to boil the wontons.

The night breeze swept a carpet of golden ginkgo and plane-tree leaves along the ground. The autumn night in Xi’an was dry and cold — but not bone-chillingly so — just enough to cool down an overheated, post-drinking head. The wontons were shaped like little gold ingots, floating in a clear broth scattered with chopped celery, steaming and fragrant. A big bowl was set before them, with a spoonful of chili oil poured on top and a few drops of rice vinegar splashed in — impossibly good.

Ba Yunye scooped several times and couldn’t get a single wonton.

“Can you still function?” Diao Zhuo looked up at her.

Ba Yunye kept her head lowered, drowsy and half-asleep. “…I’m not letting you feed me. I can eat by myself.” She buried her head and ate a few, then looked up at Diao Zhuo with wide eyes, staring at him intently. “So good.”

“What’s good?”

Ba Yunye pulled his jacket over and pressed her face into it, breathing in deep — his scent. “You’re good.”

“You’re drunk.”

“I’ve been genuinely happy these past few days…” Ba Yunye held Diao Zhuo’s hand. You could tell she was exhausted, fighting to keep her eyes open as she rambled. “These are the happiest days I’ve had all year… Princess Taiping once slipped out of the palace to roam the night market and eat wonton soup, and she met Xue Shao. And here I am, sitting at the foot of the ancient city wall eating wonton soup, with you. Many years from now, when she thought of wonton soup, what she was really thinking of was Xue Shao. Before I knew you, Xi’an never crossed my mind. But if I ever think of Xi’an in the future, what I’ll really be thinking of is you. That’s what they call… sentiment.”

She ate and murmured on, even singing fragments of “A Xi’an Person’s Song,” and didn’t know when she fell asleep, nor how she made it back to the hotel.