Dongda Bartender

The two rode a car, directing the driver to a convenience store in town.

It was a no-name store, one Ming Shuzhen hadn’t seen before, but it was well-stocked.

“Boss, can you mix drinks?” Ming Shuzhen asked, standing before the liquor cabinet.

“Nope.” Ming Shuyan had never tried, lacking the leisure or the right moment to unwind with a few drinks.

“Hehe, I can.” Ming Shuzhen beamed proudly.

Though her gaming skills were lacking despite Zhong Shuo’s coaching, her mixology was top-notch.

“Tonight, I’ll whip up something amazing for you.”

Ming Shuyan smiled at her confidence. “Good.”

Recalling the tools and liquors needed, Ming Shuzhen glanced at her. “Boss, you want to get smashed or just sip?”

Ming Shuyan considered. Drinking in their hotel room meant no worries about drunken antics, and with Ming Shuzhen, she was happy to let loose.

“Mm… no holds barred.”

*No holds barred?* Ming Shuzhen eyed the cabinet, ready to go all out.

She grabbed vodka, liqueur, rum, then hit the beverage aisle, picking up several bottles.

Arms full, Ming Shuyan offered a basket. “Put them here.”

“Mm.” Ming Shuzhen loaded it, eyeing her. “Heavy? Need help?”

Ming Shuyan shot her a look, a smirk in her eyes. “I’m not *that* weak.”

“Oh…”

They moved to the snack aisle.

Ming Shuzhen grabbed cookies. “Ooh, Pop Rocks!”

Following her voice, Ming Shuyan tossed a pack of Pop Rocks into the basket.

At checkout, Ming Shuzhen looked around, disappointed. “No ice.”

With only them in the store, the clerk overheard. “There’s a freezer over there—check it out.”

Ming Shuzhen followed the clerk’s direction but found no ice, just grape-flavored ice pops.

Good enough. She added two bags to the basket.

Spotting Fenjiu, she asked the clerk to grab it from a high shelf.

Ming Shuyan, amused, watched her enthusiasm.

She paid, and they left.

Outside, a fruit stall caught Ming Shuzhen’s eye. “Pineapple!”

“Want some?” Ming Shuyan stepped toward it.

Ming Shuzhen insisted on paying. “Pineapple soaked in booze is divine.”

The vendor cut the pineapple into chunks and sliced a few lemons as requested.

Each carrying a bag, they walked back, a cool breeze brushing past.

“Boss, doesn’t this feel so happy?” Ming Shuzhen’s face glowed.

“Hm?” Ming Shuyan slowed to walk beside her.

She’d never heard anyone call happiness out so easily.

“Why’s this happy?”

“It just *is*,” Ming Shuzhen said. “Should we order fried food to the hotel? Can’t drink on empty stomachs. I want jajangmyeon. What about you? Drinking needs carbs.”

“I’ll have jajangmyeon too.” Ming Shuyan watched her, imagining her lively gatherings with friends.

Before work, Ming Shuzhen’s Moments were full of friend outings—picnics, escape rooms, mahjong. The photos, likely shot by a photographer friend, had a cinematic quality, with cozy compositions and Leica-like tones.

One post, a nine-photo grid of a home-cooked meal, felt like movie credits: friends laughing, leaning on doors awaiting food, showing off dishes, or lounging on sofas, legs splayed, exuding charm.

Someone who called out happiness so freely must truly be happy.

Back at the hotel before noon, their delivery hadn’t arrived.

“Ahem.” Ming Shuzhen cleared her throat, striking a pose. “Tonight, I’ll show off for Boss—behold the Dongda Cocktail Queen.”

“Dongda Cocktail Queen?” Ming Shuyan laughed, genuine. “Does Dongda know?”

“Dongda doesn’t need to.”

Ming Shuzhen grinned, proud. “Kidding—I was in a wine club, okay?”

“Wine club?” Ming Shuyan had been in one. “What’d you do? Mix drinks?”

“Uh.” Ming Shuzhen faltered, sheepish. “Went once, drank red wine, took a group photo…”

“Pfft.” Ming Shuyan laughed.

Oddly, despite her earlier foul mood—wanting to kick the gloomy sky—she’d been smiling with Ming Shuzhen, genuinely wanting to.

“First, a sweet cocktail to start.” Ming Shuzhen winked, serious.

Ming Shuyan crossed her arms. “What do I do?”

“You taste and cheer me on.”

“Haha, deal.”

Ming Shuzhen grabbed two lowball glasses from the hotel.

“Ahem, we add vodka, liqueur.” She played teacher, explaining her steps.

“Now, Pillow Teacher squeezes in cream.”

“Then, our Pop Rocks magic.” She worked deftly, narrating. “Wish we had cocoa powder.”

“No worries, Pillow Teacher’s got this.” She pulled instant coffee from the bag. “A pinch’ll do. Hope it tastes okay.”

Ming Shuyan, watching, doubted the flavor.

But she was eager to try this likely-awful drink.

“Done! Final touch.” Ming Shuzhen stuck a cookie on top.

“Taste!” She handed over a glass grandly.

Ming Shuyan stirred with a straw, sinking the cream.

“Hey, don’t stir!” Ming Shuzhen stopped her. “It’s layered.”

Ming Shuyan eyed the glass—beyond the cream, no layers were evident.

Still, she took a sip.

“…”

Ming Shuzhen sucked a big gulp through her straw, then yelped, “Oh god, Grandpa’s armpit!”

“Pfft.” Ming Shuyan, barely holding it together, burst into laughter.

“Boss, tell me, does life have meaning? No meaning, and you’re sipping Grandpa’s armpit?” Ming Shuzhen glared.

Ming Shuyan grinned back, unstoppable. “You sound like a cocky dude right now—so greasy.”

“Greasy?” Ming Shuzhen’s eyes widened, rolling up her sleeves. “Fine, Pillow Teacher’s making you eat your words.”

“Hold on, I’m grabbing salt from the front desk.”

She returned with a dish of salt.

Using new glasses, she spun one, squeezing lemon juice onto the rim, dipping it in salt, then adding purple ice pops.

“No ice, so we make do.” She stayed in character.

Ming Shuyan watched, intrigued.

“Rum, liqueur, and our lemon baby.”

“Oh, we’ve got…” Ming Shuzhen rummaged, pulling out canned coconut milk. “A splash of this—I’m all about layers.”

She was obsessed with layering.

This drink looked better, the coconut milk’s white blending like clouds.

After the first flop, Ming Shuzhen tasted hers first. “I’ll try.”

A small sip, savoring. “Yes! This one’s good.”

She passed the other to Ming Shuyan. “Your turn.”

The delivery arrived. Ming Shuyan unpacked it on the table.

“Eat and drink.”

“Mm.” Ming Shuzhen nodded.

She grabbed the Fenjiu, new glasses, and started her creative mixology.

First: Fenjiu, jasmine tea, grapefruit juice—light orange, with grape ice at the bottom, a faint grapefruit scent.

Second: Fenjiu, Greek yogurt, grape juice—thick yogurt base, purple juice on top, somewhat layered.

Using a chopstick from the delivery bag, she stirred.

White and purple blended into a delicate lavender.

Ming Shuyan, on the sofa, watched her chopstick-wielding hand.

Her slender, long fingers pinched the chopstick, wrist gently turning, swirling the liquid.

Ming Shuyan didn’t warn that mixing so much alcohol could hit hard.

She waited for the drink, took it, and downed it.

“Eat something first, don’t chug,” Ming Shuzhen urged.

Ming Shuyan saw her soak pineapple in lemon juice and Fenjiu, submerging it.

“Wow, this’ll be explosively sour,” Ming Shuzhen marveled, tasting the acidity.

She’d only sipped her mixes, but Ming Shuyan finished her leftovers, gulping them down.

The flavors muddled—spicy, fragrant.

Ming Shuzhen’s voice droned, “Fenjiu’s clear-scented…”

Ming Shuyan’s head fogged, blinking hard, unsure if she was drunk.

Ming Shuzhen’s jajangmyeon was gone; Ming Shuyan’s barely touched. But the drinks, even Grandpa’s armpit, were empty.

Ming Shuzhen pulled out Qian Duoduo’s green lipstick. “Boss, want some? It’s edible—grassland cake flavor.”

Whether it was or not, the maker didn’t say, but Ming Shuzhen, a Lazy Sheep fan, decided it was.

Ming Shuyan recalled the badge on its red-and-white checkered strap. “That licked ice cream head—Lazy Sheep, right?”

“Whoa!” Ming Shuzhen was shocked their thoughts aligned. She always thought of Lazy Sheep with this lipstick.

Holding a mirror, she applied it, smacking her lips.

Ming Shuyan, reclining, squinted. “Sure it’s edible?”

“Yep, Duoduo said it’s clean.” Ming Shuzhen offered it.

Slightly tipsy but clearer than Ming Shuyan, she said, “Smell.”

Ming Shuyan heard nothing, only saw her green lips moving.

Poisoned-looking lips, but two words stuck: *edible*.

She leaned in, gently biting the green.