My Heart Beats - Chapter 8

Chapter 8

The song selection was finally settled, and Xueman was in a great mood. After practicing at home for several hours, she came to the coffee shop again. She wanted to let that person know that her voice was not noise. The coffee shop was still quiet in the evening. She wasn’t there. A sudden sense of disappointment washed over her. Didn’t she say she was going to work?

“Whiskey coffee again today?” The owner’s voice rang out behind her just as Xueman was about to turn and leave. She sat down at the bar and thought for a moment, then said, “No need. Is Xiao Chi not working today?” The owner smiled, his expression suggesting he knew something. “She’s not an employee here; she only comes occasionally.” “Have you known each other for a long time?” “Her father and I are good friends; I treat her like a daughter. I’m very fond of her.” That scoundrel could actually be liked? Xueman was a little skeptical.

“She comes over to rest after work.” Just as he was speaking, Yinchi walked in. Xueman looked back upon hearing the voice. Only then did Yinchi see her. “Why are you here too?” “Are you that unwilling to see me?” Xueman muttered, getting ready to bicker again, “I’m a customer. Is there a time I can’t come?”

“Since you’re here, I’ll leave this to you.” The owner came out from behind the bar and switched places with Yinchi. Yinchi rolled up the sleeves of her black shirt to her elbows, then took the apron hanging on the wall and tied it on. “I promised you that if you came back next time, I’d make you a whiskey coffee. Still want to try it?” Xueman raised an eyebrow, “Sure.”

Yinchi skillfully picked up a tall glass, poured in whiskey and some granulated sugar, lit the alcohol lamp beside her, then placed the glass sideways over the flame, rotating it while roasting, before extinguishing the lamp and pouring the freshly brewed coffee into the tall glass.

Although Xueman loved the drink, she didn’t actually know how it was made. She kept staring at Yinchi, watching her focused movements as she spun the glass, as she concentrated on making the milk foam… Xueman was mesmerized by her dedicated expression.

“Drink it while it’s hot.” Yinchi handed the coffee to Xueman. Xueman took a few sips. The first sip was so intense it made her want to gag; the taste was different from the owner’s blend. Yinchi’s creation had a sharper, more pungent whiskey flavor, less bitterness from the coffee, but it was richer. You could say the taste was like an unpalatable bitter tea, not the usual flavor of long-lasting longing, but rather a combination of the conflict and passion of love. Just like the person in front of her, a spark beneath an iceberg.

“This is the version I invented.” Yinchi flashed the same smile as in the morning. “Whiskey and coffee are not traditional pairings, and not many people can accept it. Even the owner can’t replicate it.” Xueman put down the coffee, “This cup is very much like you.” “Is that so?”

Next, several customers came in, and Yinchi busied herself serving them. Xueman sat at the bar, slowly sipping her coffee, her eyes occasionally glancing at Yinchi’s busy figure.

Finally, Yinchi took off her apron and looked at Xueman, who was still sitting at the bar. “Walk together?” “Mm.”

On the cold night, there were only a few scattered people on the street. They walked quietly, one in front of the other. “Hey, scoundrel.” “What is it, lunatic?” Yinchi stopped and turned around. So, Xueman looked at her, and she looked at Xueman. Under the dim streetlights, their eyes were reflected, looking hazy and profound.

“Sing me a song.”

Yinchi frowned. Singing on the street? Don’t infect me with your crazy behavior. But Xueman’s eyes looked very expectant, and she didn’t know how to refuse. Fine… So she softly hummed the melody of “Xin Zai Tiao” (Heart is Beating). There were no lyrics, only a moving melody. The volume was low, but within a range that Xueman could hear. Xueman followed very closely behind Yinchi. Yinchi was taller than her, and from behind, Xueman’s gaze landed perfectly on the curve of her narrow shoulder.

The coffee shop was not far from home, and as “Xin Zai Tiao” ended, they arrived at the apartment building. In the elevator, Xueman gave Yinchi a warm smile: “Thank you, Xiao Chi.”

The two of them each took out their keys to open their doors. Yinchi’s hand paused on the doorknob. She looked back at Xueman’s retreating figure until she went inside and turned on the light before turning back. Hearing the door close, she softly said, “Good night, Xueman.”

That night, Xueman leaned against the balcony, looking at the person in the living room across the way. Yinchi was pacing back and forth with her head down, seemingly deep in thought. A piece of paper in her left hand, a pen in her right… Oh! She put the pen between her lips and bit it. That gesture was… so cool. Then, she sat down on the sofa, her feet crossed and resting flat on the coffee table, a pair of long, slender legs fully exposed. She looked very focused on writing something. Xueman suddenly recalled “Xin Zai Tiao,” such a perfect arrangement. She believed Yinchi must have put a lot of effort into her music.