Chapter 20 : The Taste of Wine

The second time camping at night, Jiang Yanlin was already a seasoned pro.

She helped Péi Wanyi set up the site, arrange the table and chairs, put up the windproof canopy, and finally, lit the charcoal and started cooking a sweet soup in a small aluminum pot.

On the way there, Péi Wanyi had asked her what she wanted to eat. Jiang Yanlin wasn’t really hungry, but camping should have some flavor. She thought for a moment and replied, “Cream of mushroom soup.”

So the two of them made a detour to a fresh food market, bought all the ingredients, and by the time they reached the campsite, it was already night.

Jiang Yanlin had brought wine, which Miss Péi unceremoniously took out, saying, “You’ve quit drinking. I’ll drink it for you.”

“There are three cans here. Are you going to drink them all yourself?”
Jiang Yanlin said, raising an eyebrow.

Jiang Yanlin wasn’t quite sure what Péi Wanyi’s alcohol tolerance was like.

At the first party, she hadn’t seen Péi Wanyi drink much, and she didn’t seem drunk afterwards.

The next time they drank together, it was just a low-alcohol cocktail. Jiang Yanlin had a sip and didn’t have much of an allergic reaction.

Realistically, today was probably the first time she was actually drinking with her.

Jiang Yanlin had no intention of forcing herself and let her take all the wine.

Péi Wanyi was at least considerate enough to cook her cream of mushroom soup and make her a glass of lemon water with just a hint of sweetness.

The charcoal fire was banked low, and the aluminum pot sat on top, simmering the soup slowly.

Péi Wanyi took a wine glass out of the RV, added some ice, and with a “click,” opened a can and poured the wine into the glass.

When Jiang Yanlin looked up, she saw her standing beside her, head slightly bowed, her expression focused, yet casual.

“Do I look good?”

After pouring the wine, Péi Wanyi spoke softly, looking at her.

Jiang Yanlin lifted her fingers and pushed the frame of her glasses up her nose, saying casually,
“You’re too far away. I can’t see clearly.”

Péi Wanyi leaned over, placed the wine glass on the small table in front of her, but didn’t stand up. Instead, she reached over and took the glasses off Jiang Yanlin’s face.

“Let me see your prescription then.”

She said, putting the glasses on her own face.

Her words, carried on her breath, landed between Jiang Yanlin’s eyebrows. The moment the glasses were taken away, her world was covered with a layer of frost, blurring the outlines before her.

Péi Wanyi’s face was so close, yet she couldn’t see it clearly.

“A bit dizzy.”

Péi Wanyi said, taking off the glasses.

She brushed a stray strand of hair from Jiang Yanlin’s ear and put the glasses back on her.

“I’ll give them back to you.”

Jiang Yanlin adjusted the slightly uncomfortable frames and let out a light laugh.

“Be careful not to get dizzy before you even start drinking.”

But Péi Wanyi’s expression didn’t change, as if she hadn’t caught the hidden meaning in her words.

She sat back down, stirred the cream of mushroom soup in the pot with a spoon. The aroma drifted out, a gentle, creamy sweetness.

Jiang Yanlin liked the bacon in the cream of mushroom soup; the touch of saltiness balanced the richness of the cream. The person who invented this dish was a genius.

As they chatted, Péi Wanyi took out a portable Bluetooth speaker and connected it to her phone.

“What do you want to listen to?”

Jiang Yanlin looked away from the soup and at her.

“Whatever you like.”

Péi Wanyi laughed, opened her playlist, and selected a few songs to play.

The gentle sound of an electric guitar and electronic drums flowed out, slow and dreamy. Paired with the campfire and the distant city lights, the wind carried a sweet scent, creating a hazy, intoxicating atmosphere.

Péi Wanyi raised her wine glass and clinked it against Jiang Yanlin’s lemon water.

“Cheers,” she said, her eyes reflecting the light.

Jiang Yanlin looked at her and brought the rim of her glass to her lips.

The melody from the speaker enveloped their small world. A lazy, androgynous voice sang softly:
“…Got the music in you baby, tell me why.”
—Baby, let the music move you, tell me your story.

The alcohol flowed slowly through her veins. Péi Wanyi casually held the glass, her gaze drifting to the distant scenery before returning to her face.

Jiang Yanlin listened intently, one hand propping up her chin. Her leaning body caused her long black hair to slide over her shoulder, and the firelight cast a red glow on her profile and in her eyes.

The light dancing in her eyes was like a series of soft, low calls.

Péi Wanyi took a sip of wine and sang along softly with the music:
“…Got the music in you baby, tell me why.”
—Baby, let the melody reveal everything about you.

Jiang Yanlin lifted her eyes, her gaze meeting hers.

Péi Wanyi just looked at her, singing in a clear, low voice:
“…You’ve been locked in here forever and you just can’t say goodbye.”
—Your heart will be imprisoned here, unable to escape.

Her voice seemed to have no impurities, yet it held the richest wine, the final note lingering in an ambiguous warmth.

Jiang Yanlin laughed and put down her glass.

She hadn’t chased the feeling of being drunk in a long time, only allowing herself a small taste.

Too much strong wine only left behind alcohol that her body struggled to metabolize, lingering for a long, long time.

But tonight’s wine, she suddenly didn’t want to just give it to Péi Wanyi.

“Is it good?”

Jiang Yanlin stood up and took the wine from her hand.

She had bought this wine herself, so why shouldn’t she drink it?

Péi Wanyi sat in her chair, looking up at the person in front of her who had condescendingly snatched her glass, slowly brought it to her lips, and took a sip.

So she asked back, “Is it good?”

Jiang Yanlin tasted the cold liquid. Her body temperature rose quietly with the firelight and the rhythm of the drums.

Her raised arm pulled at the hem of her white short-sleeved shirt, revealing a small patch of skin on her waist, divided into light and shadow by the glow.

Péi Wanyi’s gaze swept over her, inch by inch, then moved to her quickly flushing face.

“Jiang Yanlin, why don’t you answer me?”

Péi Wanyi said, sitting up straight, her breath almost touching her waist.

But the person standing before her, drinking leisurely, let out a few soft laughs. The sound, muffled in her throat, tickled the eardrums.

The next second, Péi Wanyi saw her lean down, bit by bit, the smell of wine returning to a distance within reach.

“What does the young miss want me to say?”

Jiang Yanlin whispered in her ear, her tone teasing, yet mischievous.

Péi Wanyi turned her head and suddenly reached for the glass in her hand.

But Jiang Yanlin was prepared, taking a light step back, creating distance.

She swirled the wine in her hand, a silent provocation.

The cream of mushroom soup in the aluminum pot had thickened, its sweet, rich aroma enveloping their soft nerves. Only the lazy voice continued to sing from the speaker:
“…Come out and haunt me, I know you want me.”
—Come, sink into the vortex with me, I know you desire me.

“…Come out and haunt me.”
—Come, pull me into your entanglement.

A glass of wine passed from one hand to another, swaying through several cycles.

She held the glass high, retreating unhurriedly. So someone got up, taking one step, then two, in pursuit.

The liquid swayed and spilled, on her face, on her body, on her hand.
—The owner of this glass of wine squandered it carelessly.

She lightly stepped onto the step of the RV, turned around, one hand propped on the door, her gaze fixed on the person chasing her.

There wasn’t much wine left. She tilted her head back and drank another half.

Another round, and it would all be gone.

“Jiang Yanlin, you’re really stingy.”

Péi Wanyi walked up to the RV door in a few steps and pressed down on her hand.

“It’s stingy not to let you drink?”

The alcohol had warmed her cheeks. Jiang Yanlin stood on the step, looking down at her face.

Péi Wanyi gripped her wrist, and in a moment, squeezed it, not letting her break free.

“Yes, it is.”

She answered without blinking.

Jiang Yanlin laughed.

The distant city lights were reflected in her eyes. When she lowered her head, her hair also fell loose, brushing against Péi Wanyi’s shoulder.

“So what can you do about it?”

She whispered, slowly and deliberately.

Péi Wanyi stared at her, then laughed as well.

With a slight twist of her wrist, she forced the disobedient hand to loosen its grip.

This time, all the remaining wine spilled out. The glass fell to the ground with two dull thuds, becoming unnoticed fragments.

The cold liquid drenched her, sliding from her chin to her chest. Black strands of hair clung to her pale skin, the contrast between black and white once again striking.

Péi Wanyi slowly took a step forward, onto the step.

This time, their gazes met at the same height.

“Now you can’t drink it.”

Jiang Yanlin said with feigned regret.

But the person in front of her took another step forward, forcing her back into the RV, step by step, like the synchronized dance of a tango.

Until there was no more room to retreat, Péi Wanyi looked at her, her gaze moving down, inch by inch.

From her wet hair, to her wine-soaked neck, and finally to the drenched white collar of her shirt.

She lowered her eyes, the tip of her nose brushing against her skin, her lips caressing the lingering wine.

In the silent RV, Jiang Yanlin heard her voice vibrate against her chest:
“Then I’ll drink it like this.”