Chapter 26: Gold dal Bartender (3)
The next day.
In the morning, Bai Lengci worked on practice problems.
In the afternoon, she sat by the window, staring blankly at the hazy gray sky.
At dusk, as part of her routine, she walked into the kitchen, cooked at, ate, vomited, and cleaned up.
As night deepened, neon signs lit up one by one, sketching out another hazy outline of the city.
Bai Lengci pulled her coat tighter and, right on ti, pushed open the glass door at twilight.
The bar was filled with soothing, lazy jazz music.
The warm-toned lights were not glaring, just right to create the kind of atmosphere only found in old films—a mix of intoxication and faint lancholy.
Just as Zhou Zheng had said, this place was more like a refuge from reality.
Unfortunately, in this slow-paced city, after work, people preferred skewers and flirting, or simply lying flat at ho, rather than coming to a quiet bar for drinks and jazz.
There were only a few scattered guests inside, making the place look sowhat deserted.
Behind the bar, Ah Ken saw Bai Lengci and imdiately gave her a friendly smile, shifting slightly to make room for her.
Bai Lengci put on the bar’s standard black vest, white shirt, and tied a black tie.
The simple uniform, worn on her, was elevated by that aura of cold detachnt, making it seem like haute couture.
She walked behind the bar, resting her hands casually on the polished counter, waiting for custors to arrive.
Ti flowed slowly, only the music murmuring in the background.
Just when Ah Ken thought tonight would once again be empty, a figure pushed the door open, bringing with him the chill from outside.
The newcor was a man in his early thirties, wearing a wrinkled faux leather jacket.
His greasy hair stuck to his forehead, and his eyes darted about, carrying a deliberate air of street-toughness.
His gaze swept across the room before finally landing on Bai Lengci’s dazzling face behind the bar.
His eyes instantly lit up.
He swaggered over and plopped himself onto a high stool, leaning forward.
A stench of cheap tobacco mixed with stale alcohol hit her nose.
“Hey, beauty!”
He grinned, revealing a mouthful of smoke-stained yellow teeth.
“Get a drink!”
Bai Lengci’s eyes landed on his face as she spoke calmly.
“What kind of drink?”
The man pretended to flip through the drink nu on the counter, though he never actually picked it up.
His gaze lingered around her neckline and collarbone.
“Got a minimum spend?”
“No.”
“Oh?”
A flash of self-satisfaction crossed the man’s eyes.
He waved his hand dramatically.
“Good then. Gim the cheapest beer! And get a plate of beef jerky, so peanuts too!”
Ah Ken frowned slightly beside him.
Bai Lengci remained calm, simply pointing at the nu on the bar.
“Please order from the nu.”
The man impatiently snatched up the nu.
After one glance at the prices, his face instantly changed, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
“Damn! A beer for 128? Daylight robbery! Not even side dishes! What kinda bar is this?!”
He slamd the nu onto the counter with a sharp “pa!”
A few scattered custors in the corners cast annoyed glances his way.
Bai Lengci acted as if she hadn’t heard his complaints, only repeating lightly.
“Take your ti. Call when you’ve decided.”
The man was choked by her unyielding manner, growing even more irritated.
He glared at Bai Lengci’s expressionless, almost demonically beautiful face, and a wave of anger mixed with a strange desire to conquer surged up.
He slapped the counter hard.
“Damn it! Looking down on , huh? Fine! Get a can of beer! The cheapest one! Hurry up!”
Bai Lengci turned, retrieved a can of Oettinger wheat beer from the fridge, opened it with a sharp “pshh,” poured it into a glass, and slid it over.
The man grabbed the glass and gulped down a big mouthful.
“Tastes the sa as regular beer!”
Bai Lengci, watching his attempt to stir trouble, replied.
“That’s because you ordered regular beer.”
“I want sothing not regular.”
“Please order from the nu.”
He slamd the glass down on the counter and jabbed a finger at her.
“What kinda trash bar is this! Can’t even serve a proper drink! And your service? I’ll complain about you, believe it or not!”
Bai Lengci was sure he was here to cause trouble.
She looked at him and said.
“Of course there are proper drinks.”
“Oh? How much?”
He raised his chin challengingly.
“250 a glass.”
Bai Lengci stated a number.
“What?!”
The man shot to his feet, face red with anger.
“Beauty, are you insulting ?! 250? Who’re you calling a fool?!”
Bai Lengci’s eyes rested calmly on his twisted, angry face as she added.
“If you mind the number 250, just order two glasses.”
“You!… Fine!”
He let out a sinister laugh, pulling a crumpled wad of cash from his pocket.
He counted out five red 100-yuan bills and slapped them onto the counter with such force that the empty glasses nearby jumped.
“Five hundred! Bring two glasses! At your price! Let’s see what damn drinks are worth that money! If you dare trick …”
His eyes glared fiercely at Bai Lengci.
He didn’t finish his threat, but the aning was obvious.
Ah Ken looked at Bai Lengci, silently asking if she wanted him to step in.
Bai Lengci gave the faintest shake of her head.
She calmly collected the money.
No flashy bottle flips, no dazzling flas.
She simply picked up a plain rocks glass.
Opened the cheapest vodka bottle.
Poured it full.
The clear liquid shimred under the lights.
Then she reached for a bottle of cheap red syrup from the flavoring rack.
Unscrewing the cap, she carefully dripped… one single drop into the vodka.
The crimson syrup sank slowly, trailing down as a fine red line.
Bai Lengci slid the finished drink in front of the man.
“The first glass.”
Her voice was cold.
“This one is worth your 250.”
The bar fell into a strange silence.
Everyone was stunned.
This… this was called mixing a drink?
Not even perfunctory—it was blatant humiliation!
The man looked at the glass of almost pure vodka, his face twisting with fury, nearly green with rage!
He was about to erupt.
But Bai Lengci had already picked up a second glass.
A classic martini glass.
This ti, her movents were quicker.
Gin, dry vermouth, ice cubes—poured into the shaker with precise, fluid motions.
“Cha-cha-cha-cha—”
The sound of ice clinking against the tal was crisp and rapid.
She strained the mixture into the glass.
Finally, she picked up a cocktail pick, skewering a single olive.
Then, under everyone’s puzzled eyes, she reached for a tiny bottle of decorative edible gold leaf.
With tweezers, she carefully placed a small piece of gold leaf onto the olive.
A flawless dry martini slid toward the man.
In the glass, the olive glead with a sharp speck of gold.
“The second glass.”
Bai Lengci’s voice was still calm.
“Worth 250.”
“Pfft!”
Soone in the corner couldn’t hold it in and let out a muffled laugh.
Imdiately, like a lit fuse, the entire bar burst into uproarious laughter!
“Hahaha! Brilliant! Damn brilliant!”
“One drop of syrup, 250! One piece of gold leaf, 250! Hahaha!”
“This guy just spent 500 on a glass of straight vodka and an olive with gold leaf! Hahaha!”
“Beauty, you sure know how to price drinks! Hahaha!”
The mocking laughter swelled like a tide, nearly drowning the man at the bar.
His face turned from red to green, then purple, veins bulging on his forehead, teeth grinding audibly.
He stared at the two drinks before him—one blatant humiliation, the other refined mockery.
Then he glanced around at the laughing crowd, and finally at Bai Lengci’s incomparably beautiful face behind the bar, still calm, untouched, as if nothing had happened…
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