LIAH 16. Barbecue

The rain kept falling through the next day and only began to ease up by evening. A thin strip of orange-red sunlight finally peeked out from the clouds, breaking up the heavy gray sky.

Pei Siyin had classes all day. By the time they ended, he was slumped over his desk, completely drained. He tapped his phone twice and groaned. “Seriously? Dead already?”

He’d forgotten his laptop, so he’d been using his phone for research the entire day.

Chen Zhaomian showed up behind him with his bag slung over one shoulder, followed by a few of their groupmates. “Phone died? No big deal. Just borrow a power bank when we go eat.”

“Exactly, let’s go. My treat tonight,” said Ji Zhen, their group leader, rubbing his hands together excitedly. “I heard there’s a new barbecue place downtown and it’s amazing. You guys are coming with me to test the menu. If it’s good, I’m taking my goddess there next week.”

“Test the menu?” Pei Siyin stood up from his seat. “Anyone who hears that’s gonna think we’re going to some Michelin-star spot.”

“Close enough,” Ji Zhen said as they headed out together. “Just take off the word Michelin. We’re still eating like kings.”

The air after the rain was fresh and damp. Pei Siyin wore a beige hoodie and didn’t feel cold at all.

Chen Zhaomian and another classmate, Xue Feng, walked ahead. Ji Zhen was the only one lagging behind, shivering on the sidewalk. Pei Siyin looked at his pale face and shook his head. “What were you thinking wearing a T-shirt in this weather?”

“Achoo—” Ji Zhen rubbed his red nose. “Trying to show off how strong I am.”

“Unbelievable.” Pei Siyin sighed, pulled off his hoodie, and tossed it over Ji Zhen’s head. “Put this on before you freeze out here and we have to drag your corpse off the sidewalk.”

Xue Feng turned around and burst out laughing. Ji Zhen looked deeply moved as he slipped it on. “Siyin, don’t worry. If I see a hot guy later, I’ll ask for his WeChat on your behalf and hook you up.”

Pei Siyin was only wearing a white long-sleeve shirt. With Ji Zhen’s arm slung around his shoulders, he joked, “Thanks in advance.”

The barbecue place was packed. While waiting at the entrance, Pei Siyin found an available power bank and plugged in his phone. The screen lit up with a giant red low-battery symbol in the center. The home screen wouldn’t even load.

He sat on the bench near the door, head lowered, not sure if Song Shengyang had tried to reach him or not.

Ji Zhen and Xue Feng had gone downstairs to buy milk tea. Chen Zhaomian was standing nearby, deep in some conversation. Pei Siyin held the numbered ticket in his hand, leaned against the glass wall and yawned.

These past two days had really worn him out.

The queue moved quickly. About thirty minutes later, their number was called.

Only the innermost table was left. Pei Siyin took the platter of meat from Chen Zhaomian and set it on the grill. The sizzle exploded across his tongue the moment the scent hit him. He placed the empty tray on the small cart beside him and called out to Ji Zhen, who was sitting by the aisle, “Get some oysters and shrimp too. Those grill really well.”

He flipped the meat with his right hand while checking his phone with the left. Once his phone finally reached fifty percent, he kept refreshing Song Shengyang’s chat window, but there was still nothing.

“…What the hell.”

Pei Siyin muttered under his breath. Xue Feng, his mouth full of beef, looked up in confusion. “What? You burned it?”

“No.” Pei Siyin froze for a second, then flipped his phone face-down on the table. “I’m starving. I’m just gonna eat.”

That’s what he said.

But three minutes later, Song Shengyang received a WeChat message, a picture of a piece of beef grilling on the iron plate.

Then Pei Siyin grabbed a dipping sauce, wrapped some meat and potato in a piece of lettuce, and took another photo with it in hand. He sent it off.

[Bet you’ve never tried this. Tastes amazing.]

There was still no reply. Pei Siyin chewed mechanically, no real taste in his mouth. Several empty plates had already been cleared from the table. Ji Zhen was unusually high-spirited tonight. He went up to the front counter and came back with several cans of fruit wine, including peach and grape flavors.

“Come on, drink a little. You can’t eat barbecue without booze.”

As soon as he opened the can, bubbles frothed up from inside. Pei Siyin took two cans of peach flavor. The more he drank, the better it tasted. The fruity sweetness was strong, but the alcohol burned underneath. He hadn’t paid attention to the alcohol content on the label. After finishing both cans, he asked Ji Zhen to grab him a few more.

“This tastes really good,” Pei Siyin said, his ears burning and his head slightly dizzy. He still had enough sense to remember he needed to eat something along with the alcohol. “I feel like I’m gonna burst.”

One of the gloves he’d been using to peel shrimp had torn. Both his hands were greasy. He ripped off the broken glove, shook his dazed head, and leaned too hard against Ji Zhen’s shoulder with his elbow. “Move, I gotta go wash my hands.”

He wobbled slightly on his way to the bathroom. The place was clean, not a whiff of bad smell anywhere. Lemon-scented air fresheners lined the counter, and the tiles gleamed from a fresh scrubbing.

Pei Siyin stood at the sink and pumped some green aloe hand soap. Still fuzzy, he forgot to roll up his sleeves. The foam and water soaked the cuffs of his shirt, clinging damp and sticky to his wrists.

“How’s your tolerance this bad?”

A voice rang out beside him. Before Pei Siyin could even look, someone stepped up to his left, helped him roll his sleeves up, and turned to rinse the soap from their own hands under the running tap.

Pei Siyin tilted his head and leaned over. “Song Shengyang!”

His brain took five seconds to fully reboot. Then he lit up and threw his arms around him, hands still dripping wet. He closed his eyes and clung to Song Shengyang like a koala. “Why are you here? When did you get here? You came to eat too?”

Song Shengyang peeled his arms off from around his neck. “Why do you ask so many questions.”

“Fine,” Pei Siyin mumbled, stepping back with a hint of disappointment. He rubbed his eyes. “It’s cold in here.”

The exhaust fan hummed in the ceiling, blowing out a steady breeze. It wasn’t that cold, but after drinking, Pei Siyin’s skin had become extra sensitive.

Song Shengyang stared at him for a moment, then turned to wash the remaining soap from his hands.

Pei Siyin was still watching him through the mirror.

When Song Shengyang finally looked up and reached for a paper towel from the dispenser, he spoke to the reflection with a dry, flat tone.

“You didn’t seem cold earlier. You looked pretty fired up when you were taking your clothes off.”