CHAPTER 139: CHAPTER 23: A WORLD OF ICE AND FIRE

Su Ziceng never expected that Pello would actually invite her for a drink. Outside, the snow was falling heavily, and a layer of ice had already formed on the car windows.

After hesitating for three minutes, even though it was already a quarter past seven, Su Ziceng still decided to go out. She made up an excuse in her mind to check if the roses in the school’s greenhouse had blossomed, yes, the place Pello invited her for a drink was the greenhouse at Kelly Women’s College.

The greenhouse, which was surrounded by greenery before the holidays, had turned into a sheer pile of snow after several snowfalls during the winter break, losing its original rectangular outline. From a distance, it looked just like a big haystack covered in snow.

When she pushed open one of the greenhouse rooms, the air was filled with the scent of wet soil, a faint smell of alcohol, and a strong aroma of barbecued meat.

The snow that had drifted into the greenhouse had been swept out, and in the spacious area of the greenhouse, there was a table the size of a coffee table. The aroma came from a burning glass vessel on the table; four or five ceramic bottles were placed together, beneath which a laboratory alcohol lamp was mounted, only Pello would think of using these tools to warm up wine for drinking in this kind of weather.

Pello was a person who knew how to enjoy life. Not far from the coffee table, there was a small grill, on which slices of meat were sizzling, and a man beside it was sprinkling cumin seeds on it, the alternating red and blue flames licking between the turning pieces of meat.

"Why so stingy, such tiny cups," after a brief silence, Su Ziceng broke the ice, sitting beside the coffee table, fidgeting with the small ceramic cup, she always felt a profound calmness with Pello, a calmness as if the irascible Su Ziceng had never existed.

"In our country, New Year’s is always spent drinking, and he who drinks his cup last will own the good luck," the meat on the grill was done, Pello took another two plates, filled them with grilled meat and a few sticks of roasted asparagus, and laid them in front of Su Ziceng. He didn’t directly answer her complaint about the cups; he had specifically prepared them that way. With larger cups, the wine would be drunk quickly, and with the wine gone, so would be the company.

After that, he just drank silently. Countless bubbles rose and burst in the glass vessel, the warmed sake gaining a spiciness, compounded by the chili powder on the meat. Soon, a fiery flush appeared on Su Ziceng’s face. She wanted to drink wine to counter the spiciness, but the more she drank, the spicier it became.

Pello barely touched the appetizers in his plate, but seeing that Su Ziceng’s plate was almost empty, he pushed his plate towards her, muttering to himself: "You really suit red."

"Sister Mu said the same," Su Ziceng heard this and remembered the dress red as the morning clouds, "Angel’s Broken Wings". "Speaking of it, you and Sister Mu do have similarities." She unabashedly reached with her chopsticks into Pello’s plate.

"Similar?" Pello smiled, watching the alcohol lamp’s wick’s flame dimming, the wick turning from bright red to ash-black.

"It makes one feel very lonely, like a... wolf in the snow," Su Ziceng couldn’t help but toast herself for finding the right adjective, "It’s that kind of feeling, which isn’t felt from others."

"Because both she and I have lost the most important people in our lives, it’s a feeling others can’t understand," Pello observed the gradually extinguishing alcohol lamp, the wine in the glass had cooled, after the clear wine cooled, drinking it would only chill one’s stomach and heart, tying them in knots together.

Pello recalled the past, similar nights like this when his mother abandoned him and left, after which his life lingered for a long time in the scent of alcohol.

"I know that feeling," sitting opposite, the supposedly naive Su Ziceng interrupted Pello, chewing on her chopsticks, her lips still covered with chili powder, "I have also lost something very important, only, I was luckier than most, somehow I found it again mysteriously."

"Are you sure your luck is good enough?" Pello looked at Su Ziceng resting her chin on her hand, her speech starting to become unclear, he reached out, removing bits of chili from her lips.

When his fingertips touched her lips, besides the greasiness of the roasted meat, there was a pleasant sensation; Pello’s hand paused, not withdrawing immediately but gently caressing Su Ziceng’s lips.