No Ghosting Allowed

As the twilight enveloped Beijing, the city was immersed in a colorful sea of lights. Cars queued up at traffic lights, slowly inching forward.

A taxi stopped at the intersection of Sanlitun. Zhou Qingbo handed the remaining 100 yuan to the driver, opened the car door, and stepped out with his long legs.

Just past seven o’clock, the bar street was bustling with young people seeking entertainment after work. Brilliant neon signs intertwined and flickered under the dim lights, creating vast areas of light pollution.

The taxi struggled to turn around and leave, but Zhou Qingbo wasn’t in a hurry to leave. He stood still, surveying the surroundings for any signs of danger. Satisfied, he raised his collar slightly and disappeared into the crowd.

He walked swiftly, his brows slightly furrowed, sidestepping past a couple, and then turning into an inconspicuous alley.

That alley was located behind the bar street, with garbage bins on both sides, reaching higher than a person’s height. Zhou Qingbo avoided the greasy trash containers and leaped over a dirty plastic bag on the ground, walking to the end of the alley where a colorful iron gate stood. He reached out and rang the doorbell.

“Who’s there?” A voice came from inside the gate.

“It’s me,” Zhou Qingbo replied.

The rusty iron bolt inside the gate scraped, and after a few seconds, a pair of bright eyes appeared through the gap.

“Zhou-ge!” The young man who opened the door was excited. “I thought you weren’t coming!”

“Who else would come if not me?” Zhou Qingbo laughed and pushed the door with a casual gesture, producing a teeth-grinding creak as he opened a passage wide enough for a person to pass through.

The young man was pushed back repeatedly but didn’t get angry. He leaned against the railing with a smiling face, making way for him.

“Ah, forget it, Zhou-ge.” The young man said, “During the time you were away, many people came to the bar looking for you, asking us when you’d perform on stage.”

“What do you mean to perform on stage? Why don’t you say ‘appear on stage?'” Zhou Qingbo teased.

“Slip of the tongue, slip of the tongue,” the young man said with a smile. “It’s just a sign of respect for you.”

“That’s right,” Zhou Qingbo couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, feeling proud. “With my skills, you little kids won’t catch up even after three more years of learning.”

Underneath his tailored suit, which was uncomfortable to wear all day, Zhou Qingbo couldn’t wait to take it off. By the time he reached the bar counter, his daytime appearance as a polished and elegant elite had disappeared entirely. His coat was haphazardly draped over his arm, the shirt collar unbuttoned, looking wrinkled.

“Qingbo!”

In front of the bar counter, someone had been waiting for him. A man held a glass of whiskey and greeted him with a smile.

Zhou Qingbo raised an eyebrow in surprise and took a couple of quick steps. He jumped onto the bar counter and sat down on a high stool beside him.

“Why are you here?” Zhou Qingbo asked. “Where’s Qiang-ge?”

“He had something come up last minute.” Ge Xing rested his arm on the bar counter and supported his head, smiling as he said, “ How come you’re willing to come out after being in seclusion for so long?”

“I’m dying of boredom at home.” With Ge Xing owning half of that bar, Zhou Qingbo never held back when he visited. He leaned forward, not minding that Ge Xing pulled a glass from under the bar and poured soda water for himself, saying casually, “Recently, my brother has been scrutinizing me to death. You’re not unaware of it but he doesn’t agree with me being a mixologist.”

Zhou’s eldest brother, with an old-fashioned mindset, preferred to keep a low profile and stayed away from places with indulgence and extravagance, viewing them as dangerous waters where he and Zhou Qingbo should not set foot.

Knowing the situation at his home and aware that Zhou Qingbo didn’t like to discuss such topics outside, Ge Xing smiled and didn’t say anything more. He raised his glass and clinked it with Zhou Qingbo’s.

“What’s the theme tonight?” Zhou Qingbo asked.

“Free performance,” Ge Xing said, “You can do whatever you want, as long as it heats up the crowd.”

“That sounds good.” Zhou Qingbo raised an eyebrow excitedly, whistled, and then casually threw his suit jacket onto the bar counter. He stepped on a high stool and turned half a circle, clapping his hands towards the servers on the dance floor.

“Kids!” Zhou Qingbo whistled, “Bring the King’s treasures here!”

Zhou Qingbo was thrilled as soon as he entered the bar. Shedding the “society’s elite” image he had during the day, at night, he was like a wild man.

The bar’s servers were familiar with him and were willing to join in the fun. They laughed heartily upon hearing him and a young man quickly ran up, circled around the bar counter, and bent down to take out a leather box about one meter in size from a cabinet underneath.

“Here you go, King,” he said, opening the box and pushing it in front of Zhou Qingbo, “Take a look.”

Beneath the facade of a high-level white-collar worker, Zhou Qingbo was actually a seasoned mixologist, who once won the national championship in cocktail mixing. He was skilled but also eccentric, never willing to use the bar’s standard tools and insisting on using his own set.

The bar owner knew about his habits and would always prepare his tools before he arrived.

The leather box was padded with soft sponge, and the metallic tools had been cleaned, reflecting beautiful shards of light under the lights.

Satisfied, Zhou Qingbo whistled again and closed the box. He stood up from the chair.

“I’m going to shower and change my clothes.” Zhou Qingbo placed his empty glass onto the bar counter and said casually, “You can take the stuff upstairs for now.”

Black Bar regularly held themed nights, and the fancy cocktail performance was the reserved opening act. Zhou Qingbo knew the routine like the back of his hand.

He rushed to the dressing room behind the bar and took a quick shower, then changed out of his stiff and formal suit. Without drying his hair, he walked out wet.

The lights in the hall were being turned off one by one, and the backstage crew made the final adjustments to the ambient lights. Zhou Qingbo grabbed a chilled bottle of cola from the bar counter, wiping his slightly damp hair with a towel as he walked to the control booth. He changed the record to his favorite album.

The sharp-eyed DJ noticed his movements from across the counter and leaned on the mixer to chat with him.

“Zhou-ge, you’re in good spirits tonight,” the DJ said, “Are you feeling wild?”

“I’ve been bored at home,” Zhou Qingbo said, “I need some sensory stimulation.”

Not far away, a server gestured to Zhou Qingbo, indicating that the bar was officially open outside. Zhou Qingbo nodded, picked up a pair of headphones from the sound booth, and put them on his ears.

The crowd surged in, and the ethereal and real night officially began.

Just before going on stage, Zhou Qingbo’s phone vibrated. He casually took it out and found a surprising message from Pei You.

[Sorry, could you please tell me the exact address?]

The message was abrupt, and Zhou Qingbo raised an eyebrow in confusion. Before he could reply, the message suddenly disappeared from the chat.

“Sorry.” The sender retracted the message and quickly sent two new ones, “I sent the message to the wrong person.”

As the explosive bass drumbeat burst from the speakers, the colorful lights in the hall disappeared and reappeared, and the emcee took the stage to warm up the crowd. Zhou Qingbo didn’t pay too much attention to the mistaken message and casually tossed his phone to a server waiting on the side of the stage. He then took a long step onto the platform.

…………….

At the intersection of Sanlitun, Pei You copied the mistaken message and sent it again in a new chat box.

The bar street was bustling with noise and excitement at night, and some distinctively styled bars even placed their speakers outside, using heavy metal rock to create a vibrant atmosphere and mood.

Pei You rarely visited such places. At most, he sat in the music bar downstairs of his office building with colleagues. Now, he felt a bit lost when he first entered the bar street.

However, there was no way out. After thirty-three failed blind dates, Mrs. He Ping, feeling that mature men who matched Pei You’s personality weren’t suitable for him, changed her approach and found a “young and lively” person for him to meet.

Pei You tried his best to decline, but ultimately couldn’t succeed. He had to compromise with his mother and agree that that would be the last one in the short term.

The new date was young and had a lifestyle completely opposite to Pei You’s. Rejecting the usual friendly meeting places like coffee shops, restaurants, and shopping malls, he insisted on meeting Pei You at a bar.

Pei You appeared aloof, but he was actually quite easy to talk to. So, despite being uncomfortable with the setting, he reluctantly agreed.

However, the address the other person sent him was ambiguous. Only after arriving at the scene did Pei You realize that there were dozens of bars on that street, and he couldn’t distinguish which one it was. He could only ask again on the spot.

Thankfully, the other person seemed to keep his phone close and replied quickly, not keeping Pei You waiting for too long.

“Have you arrived?” the other person asked.

“Yes,” Pei You replied, “But there are many bars here. Which one are you referring to?”

“Go down the main street of the bar street, and it’s the third from the end. Black Bar.”