CHAPTER 72: CHAPTER 66: SAVORING WINE BY THE SEASHORE

After leaving the restaurant, Su Ziceng was momentarily at a loss. In Zone 3, her favorite was this French restaurant; eating anything else wouldn’t compare to the meals prepared by her own chef back home.

"I know a place," under the bustling lights of Zone 3, Yan Wuxu’s eyes showed less desire for the bright nightlife.

After the argument they had tonight, the grievances between Su Ziceng and Yan Wuxu had somehow all dissipated. For both of them, it was their first time having such in-depth communication with someone of the same sex, stripping off the facades they wore and exposing the raw, unadorned selves—though not in a naked, fleshy sense, but rather an enjoyable honesty.

The bus swiftly shuttling through the city soon brought them to their destination. As Yan Wuxu stepped into the Sixth District, she shed the heavy mindset of needing to please people she encountered at Kelly Women’s College, her steps becoming noticeably lighter; her detested Kelly uniform seemed to dance in the dim light of the Sixth District.

Under Yan Wuxu’s guidance, the labyrinth-like Sixth District became as elastic as a rubber band beneath the girls’ feet, their movements exuding agility.

After walking for over ten minutes, Su Ziceng saw the street lamps still on at the Sixth District Car Shop; Yan Wuxu stopped in her tracks, gazing at a lamp that always seemed to wait for the distant traveler’s return, her mind wandering.

When she was eight, she once fell while returning home, gashing her knee badly. Brother Han, seven years her senior, despite his family’s objections, insisted on installing a high beam light outside the car shop. Since then, the part of her route home was always brightly lit, unimpeded by wind or rain.

The piercing light shone on the dry cracked earth, as if it was covered in frost, with quartz sand grains sparkling here and there on the ground—Yan Wuxu’s steps halted, and she somewhat awkwardly suggested, "Let’s take a detour."

Su Ziceng guessed that Yan Wuxu was afraid of running into Boss Han from the car shop, and even after this setback, she had no intention of returning to the Sixth District. Seeing might not be better than forgetting, so the two of them turned into a side path. After a few steps, Su Ziceng recalled something and pointed at a low house hidden at the end of the lane, "Who lives in there?"

After visiting twice, Su Ziceng could confirm that the small courtyard with the newly fixed door was indeed the residence of Yuhua’s God Stick.

"That family? Seems to have the surname Wang, a fortune teller or Taoist. People in the Sixth District are quite diverse, they usually interact politely in the neighborhood and recognize each other’s names after greetings. Only that household keeps its doors tightly shut and does not mingle with neighbors," Yan Wuxu glanced and replied based on memory.

No light shone through the cracks of the God Stick’s door; he was likely out. Su Ziceng couldn’t help but rub her palms, checking them under the cover of darkness, noticing no significant changes.

After passing a couple more broken walls and small houses, the view suddenly opened up. The small houses gave way to sparse shacks, and further down, a serpent-like coastline appeared.

Mo City is surrounded by mountains on three sides and faces the sea on one. There is a roughly ten-kilometer long beach on the outskirts of the city, but due to poor management and unrestricted industrial wastewater discharge, it’s less a beach and more a trash shore.

Thus, while a sun-soaked beach tourism trend had surged particularly in the South Sea regions of Z country, Mo City’s white trash-laden muddy shore remained unnoticed. The city’s wealthy chose to sail their yachts in nearby lakes or rivers, rarely visiting the seaside for sightseeing.

However, Su Ziceng believed that Yan Wuxu did not intend to take her to a place of trash. Ahead, the petite silhouette followed the stone embankment by the sea, her previously hastily tidied hair unraveled by the seabreeze, fluttering in the air like a lost scarf.

They reached a collapsed section, and the figure in front disappeared down below; Su Ziceng followed suit, jumping down. The landing point, due to the lack of rain these past days, had dry yellow sand that was blown away by the wind, causing it to slide over their shoes.

The obscured sea surface lit up, the sound of waves crashing and the breezing wind played a symphony of a seaside rhapsody.

This was a spacious, meticulously tidied stretch of beach. Temporary seaside barbecue setups and electric lights hung on tent beams were scattered all around.