Forcing Me to Be Reborn?!-Chapter 139 - 120 Let’s Enjoy the Evening Breeze Together

Chapter 139: Chapter 120 Let’s Enjoy the Evening Breeze Together

Persistent Visit’s studio was at the bottom, Brother Zhu bid farewell to Little Wang.

Little Wang looked at Brother Zhu’s pink little electric scooter, wondering if he should get one for himself as well.

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Riding a donkey to impress girls on campus would be one of the great joys in life, wouldn’t it?

Unfortunately, sometimes you encounter girls who look for horses while riding donkeys, prefer crying in a BMW rather than laughing on a little electric donkey.

After some thought, Cheng Zhu decided to head to Jiuyin to check things out.

This time, he truly came from the perspective of a concerned friend, afraid that something might have happened.

“It’s just after ten in the evening, and Ming Lang is already drunk?” Cheng Zhu was puzzled.

Ming Lang, well, he claimed to be the Little Prince of the Drinking Table.

Horrible at drinking games, but his main trick was his drinking ability!

Just an alcohol container without a brain.

Logically, it was only him and Qingning. His sister wouldn’t be the one to maliciously get him drunk, so why did he get hammered so early?

The only explanation was that he had been pouring drinks for himself!

Cheng Zhu was very aware that some things, you just can’t help solve as a friend.

But sometimes, friends aren’t there to solve problems.

A friend is just there to show up.

In life, many problems need to be solved by oneself, but in such circumstances, having someone willing to show up by your side, to care a little about you, would certainly make one feel much better.

“Of course, I have to take a few photos to commemorate his drunken state,” he thought.

“Wanzhou will probably pay a high price to buy the embarrassing pictures. Consider it covering my travel expenses,” Cheng Zhu chuckled to himself.

The pink little electric scooter traveled at a steady pace through the night scene of Hang City when a red Ferrari 458 whizzed past him. Through the glass, he caught a glimpse of the white thighs sitting in the passenger seat.

In his previous life, he owned a gray Ferrari F8 but didn’t use such transparent window film.

Because back then, the streets were just overwhelmed with car photographers.

If your car was too flashy, the photographers would go nuts and post pictures of it online.

If the window film was too transparent, wouldn’t that mean people could see the interior – and potentially, the model inside?

That’s inviting major trouble.

The bar Jiuyin, run by Ming Lang, was somewhat far from Cheng Zhu’s starting point. It took him about twenty minutes to get there.

After pushing the door open and entering, he found the business at the bar was indeed poor.

He had previously given Ming Lang some tips which momentarily improved Jiuyin’s business. Yet clearly, Boss Shen probably added personal touches in his management and ventured down the wrong path afterward.

He felt that Ming Lang really wasn’t cut out for business.

Many people like opening stores, not necessarily because they love the business, but because they enjoy being in their environment, doing things they like, passively Waiting for others to acknowledge their taste and then incidentally making some money.

Fundamentally, it’s a form of personal expression.

Many people would see this as a dream.

—I can’t even imagine how wonderful that kind of life would be.

Cheng Zhu thought to himself: I can’t even begin to imagine how deep into the red that would be.

Running a store is not about being artistic. You can’t just do whatever you personally like.

It’s like Cheng Zhu’s Youu Come to Play, some parts aren’t up to his personal taste, but he knows clearly that his taste is not important.

Many wealthy second-generation kids like Ming Lang are far too individualistic, hence not so suited to running businesses.

They might have the means and conditions to run a business casually, but speaking of a real business startup, how many people can truly ignore the business aspect?

If that’s the case, why not just decorate your own home in that style and every now and then invite a few friends over to drink? Not to mention, it’s humiliating when a business turns out poorly. Losing money is a trifling matter, but losing face is everything.

After Cheng Zhu walked inside, Ye Zi smiled at him and then waved.

He nodded slightly.

Ye Zi immediately made a gesture, pointing in the direction where Ming Lang and Qingning were sitting.

They were in the most secluded corner of the bar, where no one else was around.

Ming Lang had already laid himself down. It looked like he was genuinely passed out from drinking.

Qingning, on the other hand, was propping up her face with one hand, seemingly spacing out, while her other hand clutched her car keys, muttering something to herself.

Cheng Zhu had won her a Pikachu keychain previously, Qingning had been a fan of “Pocket Monsters” since she was young, and she had put that keychain on her car keys.

From a distance, he watched her, trying to guess her lip movements.

“Pika pika?” He frowned, confused. She wasn’t trying to talk like Pikachu, was she?

Or was she having a conversation with the Pikachu keychain?

This kind of thing that Lin Lu might do every day looked odd and somewhat curious when Qingning did it.

He took a few steps closer towards her, and it wasn’t until Cheng Zhu stood beside her that she lifted her head and noticed the newcomer.

When their eyes met, Cheng Zhu was struck by her startling beauty.

The usually cold aura around Qingning had cleared away completely, leaving her eyes slightly hazy from the intoxication.

Her fair and cold skin flushed a natural rosy hue, as though bathed in a layer of natural blush.

It seemed that Cheng Zhu’s sudden appearance made her lips part slightly in surprise.

“Cheng Zhu?” Qingning blinked, then asked in confusion, “Why are you here?”

“Came to spend some money at your brother’s bar,” Cheng Zhu offhandedly lied.

Qingning did not pursue the matter further but glanced over at Ming Lang.

The two couches in that area were right against the wall, with Ming Lang sprawled out snoring. Cheng Zhu naturally couldn’t sit there.

This made Qingning shift over a little to make space and then told Cheng Zhu, “Here, have a seat.”

After he sat down, he pointed at Ming Lang and asked, “What’s up with him, getting this drunk so early?”

The sibling conversation about their mother and stepmother wasn’t intended to have outsiders present.

But now that it had finished, it was alright to share some of it with others asking about it.

“Nothing much, just this almost-thirty-year-old missing his mom,” she replied nonchalantly.

Cheng Zhu glanced at this proud tsundere, and spoke up directly, “What about you?”

His voice was uncommonly gentle, and his eyes held a soft and warm smile.

Qingning met his gaze, and as if something had struck her—unbeknownst to her whether it was the alcohol or the tears she was trying to hold back—her lips quivered slightly, “A little bit, too.”

The conversation opened up with Cheng Zhu’s intervention. Qingning bowed her head, looking down at her cocktail glass and stirring it continuously with a straw while speaking up:

“They say your day’s thoughts are your night’s dreams, but it’s strange. For six years, neither my brother nor I have dreamt much of her.”

As she said this, there was another sentence in her heart that went unsaid:

—I’m no longer the little child who was afraid of ghosts; mom, why don’t you visit my dreams to see how I’m doing?

Cheng Zhu just sat by her side, listening quietly, not saying a word.

After a while, he suddenly asked, “What would you like to become after you die?”

The abrupt change of subject caught Qingning slightly off guard.

She genuinely thought Cheng Zhu was trying to prevent her from dwelling in sadness, so he forcefully steered the conversation elsewhere.

A topic she would have normally found childish and boring.

But now, she considered it with seriousness, then gave a typical response, “Many say when people die, they become stars in the sky, which I think is quite nice.”

“Why?” Cheng Zhu inquired.

“Because that way, can’t you keep watching people from up there?” Qingning said.

Cheng Zhu nodded, “I, for one, don’t want to keep watching the people I care about from the sky.”

He valued his own feelings; he believed if he could watch from the heavens everything that happened in this world after death, it wouldn’t necessarily feel good.

It’d be nice to visit when you miss someone, sure.

But to always watch, that’s something else altogether.

There are things you might not be able to bear to see.

“What about you?” Qingning turned to look at him.

Cheng Zhu was silent for a moment, the only sound being Ming Lang’s thunderous snoring.

He wasn’t thinking about what true answer he actually had in mind.

He was just looking for a moment, a chance to comfort her.

Or perhaps, setting the stage for what was to come.

After a good ten seconds, he finally said, “As for me, I’ve heard another saying that people become wind after they die. I’d like to be the wind!”

“Why?” Qingning asked with her chin propped up, then, due to the alcohol-induced drowsiness in her head and body, she slowly slumped against the wall, almost slipping her face off her propped-up hand, appearing slightly silly.

“I’m not like you. I think constantly watching the person you want to see from the sky would make me weary,” he replied.

“Me? I’d become a breeze.”

“Whenever I want to see someone, the wind would gust over them.”

On hearing this, Qingning looked at him, pondering deeply as if considering something serious.

In the end, she nodded, “That does sound pretty nice.”

Cheng Zhu watched her, relieved, feeling like he’d laid out all the comforting groundwork, and now it was just a matter of how things would unfold.

Time moved forward by fifteen minutes, Ming Lang began to show heavier signs of drunkenness. Originally able to sit on the long sofa, he almost slid off and tumbled onto the floor.

“Let’s not let him sleep here anymore; we should send him home,” Cheng Zhu suggested.

“We don’t have to send him; the manager will. He often gets drunk here until he blacks out; it’s become routine,” was Qingning’s reply.

Cheng Zhu nodded and went to find the manager of Jiuyin.

Then, together with the manager, they helped the drunken Ming Lang up and staggered out of the bar, with Qingning following behind Cheng Zhu.

Ye Zi watched their departing figures intently, wordlessly wiping the bartop with a cloth over and over.

Though there was no water or stains, she wiped for a very long time.

Outside the door, after Cheng Zhu and the manager loaded Ming Lang into his Panamera, he gave the manager his phone number, asking him to call after they’d delivered the man home.

Then, he walked over to Qingning, who was standing aside, and said, “Let’s go. I’ll drive since you’ve been drinking. I’ll take you home.”

Qingning shook her head; though she had her car keys in her bag, she didn’t drive today. Ming Lang had come to pick her up.

“I didn’t drive today,” she said, looking at Cheng Zhu.

Cheng Zhu stood with his back straight, appearing very confident as he said, “Well, it’s a good thing I drove!”

“Come with me!” he beckoned to Qingning.

He didn’t park his flashy pink electric scooter directly in front of Ming Lang’s store.

People who run stores typically hate cluttering up their storefronts, so when he visited friends’ places, he stuck to that principle, not insisting on convenience at the cost of just a few steps.

Soon, he pointed to his electric scooter.

“Do you remember what I said to you back in the bar?” Cheng Zhu said to Qingning, now retrieving the groundwork he had laid earlier.

He grinned at Qingning and gestured toward his electric scooter:

“Let’s go then, I’ll take you to… get some wind.”