Chapter 1: That Autumn When I Was Eighteen (1)

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The night air was cool, yet the entrance to the bar remained lively as ever.

Meng Yier raised her head, lost and disheartened, to look at the bar’s sign, then strode inside without hesitation.

Since returning to her homeland, she had deliberately drowned herself in alcohol every night.

Being drunk was a good thing, she thought—it allowed her to forget, at least for a while, all that pain.

As she reached the entrance, a security guard stopped her, looking her over from head to toe. “Miss, are you over eighteen?”

Meng Yier thought smugly, “What a coincidence—I just turned eighteen two months ago.”

She glared at the guard and straightened her back. “Do I look under eighteen to you?”

Though her face was still youthful, her figure was striking. The guard said nothing more and let her in.

Inside, handsome men and beautiful women danced to pulsing beats, the atmosphere electric.

Meng Yier found a secluded spot near the backstage area. Glancing inside, she saw various musical instruments and a few young people—likely the bar’s singers—resting in their lounge.

She ordered a drink, and the bartender quickly brought it over. Wanting to think of nothing else, she began drinking one glass after another.

Several men tried to strike up a conversation, but she dismissed them impatiently.

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A man sat at the lounge entrance with a guitar in his arms, glancing curiously at Meng Yier from time to time.

She returned his gaze without reservation. He wore a clean white shirt, appeared to be in his early twenties, his figure slender and tall. His features were delicate yet sharply defined, his eyes deep and captivating—a handsome man, no doubt. But Meng Yier was in no mood to admire good looks; all she wanted was to drink herself into oblivion and forget her sorrows.

A few drinks in, her cheeks flushed and her eyes grew hazy—she was already tipsy, her head swimming. She slumped over the table, intending to rest before drinking more.

Through her haze, she was roused by a commotion. Looking up, she saw a heated argument in the lounge.

A long-haired man grabbed the collar of the man in white, snarling, “Kid, you’ve only been here a few days and customers are already asking for your songs. You’re stealing all our business. If you’re smart, you’ll get out of this bar.”

“If you’re so capable, why don’t the customers ask for your songs? Here, talent speaks for itself.” The man in white calmly brushed off his hand and straightened his collar.

Another man with blue, curly hair, anger flaring, was about to step in. “Hey, you dare ignore what Brother Zhao says?”

Meng Yier was not one to meddle, but she was drunk now—who knew what she might do.

Suddenly, she stood up, pouting and shouting, “Hey! What are you doing? So many of you bullying one person—don’t you have any shame?”

Still tipsy, she wobbled as she got to her feet, nearly falling, and quickly steadied herself on the table before staggering over.

The men in the lounge exchanged glances, eyeing the drunken girl.

The long-haired man shot her a sideways glance. “Mind your own business, you little brat.”

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Meng Yier drew closer with a half-smile, poking his protruding belly with her finger. “Look carefully, now—how am I meddling? I was just sleeping over there, and you all woke me up, and now you’re telling me not to interfere?”

She slurred her words, her tongue heavy from the drink.

“You—” The group looked at her helplessly. Knowing she was a customer and they were just employees, they dared not offend her.

The man in white found her behavior amusing, his gaze lingering on her delicate figure as he laughed softly.

“What’s going on? What’s going on? It’s almost time to go on stage—what’s with all the noise?” The bar manager strode over, impatience evident in his voice.

Seeing the manager, the group fell silent and quickly busied themselves elsewhere.

The manager turned to Meng Yier, immediately switching to a friendly smile. “Miss, if there’s anything we haven’t done to your satisfaction, please let me know—”

Meng Yier waved him off indifferently and returned to her seat. “It’s nothing. Just bring me two more drinks—”