Late Night Bookstore - Chapter 11
Next to Zhou Ze’s bookstore, there was a noodle shop. Its business was rather lackluster, much like Zhou Ze’s own bookstore—customers were few and far between. This entire pedestrian street had been built around a plaza, which had since fallen into disrepair. Aside from a movie theater, most of the other businesses had long shut down, turning the plaza into a desolate, rarely-visited place.
In Tongcheng, the effects of overzealous urban development had become apparent. A few years ago, large commercial centers were constructed in abundance, but this wasn’t Shanghai— Tongcheng couldn’t sustain such high foot traffic.
Fortunately, the noodle shop was still able to do some business through delivery and it seemed to be doing quite well in that regard. However, it is clear that no one would suddenly feel “hungry” for some spiritual nourishment and order a few books to munch on.
Zhou Ze leaned back in his chair, still feeling a bit dizzy. Dr. Lin sat across from him, carefully wiping a pair of chopsticks with a napkin before placing them in front of him. She was thoughtful and attentive, just like how she let Xu Le sleep on the bed while she slept on the floor. Yet, there was always a coldness to her demeanor.
Zhou Ze didn’t bother asking whether she truly opposed arranged marriages or if she just wasn’t interested in men. Either way, it was irrelevant. The complex web of relationships that Xu Le had left behind wasn’t something Zhou Ze cared about.
“Are you sure your health is fine?” Dr. Lin asked again.
“It’s just a minor issue, nothing to worry about,” Zhou Ze replied. Being a doctor himself, he knew that his problems with eating and sleeping couldn’t be explained or treated by modern medicine. Fortunately, he had solved the issue of sleeping— eating, however, was still a headache.
If he didn’t eat, he’d pass out like he had earlier. But whenever he thought of food, a wave of nausea would hit him.
“Poor appetite? You should start with a bowl of sour plum juice.” The noodle shop owner, a man in his thirties with noticeable wrinkles from the weight of life’s hardships, suggested.
“Sour plum juice… will that help?” Zhou Ze asked with a hint of resignation.
“It’s good for digestion,” the owner replied with a smile before turning toward the kitchen and calling out, “Honey, is the pickled vegetable noodles ready?”
The owner walked back into the kitchen, where the sound of conversation between him and his wife could be heard.
Zhou Ze stared at the sour plum juice in front of him. He scooped up a spoonful and swallowed it, his face immediately twisted.
“What’s wrong?” Dr. Lin pulled out a tissue and held it up to Zhou Ze’s chin.
Zhou Ze clutched his stomach, took a deep breath and said, “It’s really sour.”
It was so sour that his whole body tensed up but at least the sharpness of the sourness drowned out his nausea.
“Here you go, the noodles are ready,” the owner’s wife said, placing a bowl of noodles in front of Zhou Ze. “You shouldn’t drink sour plum juice so fast.”
Dr. Lin glanced at the noodles and frowned slightly. “These noodles are overcooked.”
She was pointing out that the noodles had been boiled for too long, losing their chewy texture and affecting the flavor.
“Well… our noodles are always like this,” the owner’s wife admitted, looking somewhat embarrassed.
“It’s fine, it doesn’t matter,” Zhou Ze waved it off. Overcooked or not, it was irrelevant. What mattered was that he could get the food down, he needed energy. If he couldn’t manage to eat this, he might have to go to the hospital for a glucose injection.
With a determined look, Zhou Ze straightened up as if he were preparing for battle. Then, without hesitation, he downed the entire bowl of sour plum juice in one gulp.
Hiss…
The sourness was overwhelming, like pouring acid into his stomach. But right after that, Zhou Ze grabbed the chopsticks and began wolfing down the noodles as fast as he could, devouring the entire bowl in just a few bites. Then, he picked up the bowl and gulped down the remaining broth.
Whew…
Smack!
With a long exhale, Zhou Ze put the empty bowl down.
He had done it. He had eaten the food.
In the next moment, Zhou Ze reached out and covered his chest. The feeling of nausea returned after being suppressed by the sour plum soup, but the food was already in his stomach. Zhou Ze nearly choked himself with his hands around his neck to keep from throwing it all up.
If it stayed down, it was a success. He had eaten, finally.
Sweat beaded on Zhou Ze’s forehead as he wiped it away with a napkin.
Both Dr. Lin and the owner’s wife were staring at him in shock, visibly disturbed by his ravenous display.
“Hehe, it seems you were really hungry. Do you want another bowl?” the owner’s wife asked.
“No, no, that’s enough,” Zhou Ze declined.
“Alright then,” the owner’s wife said as she cleared the dishes. She shouted back toward the kitchen, “Honey, make sure the dough for the afternoon deliveries is ready. We’ll be getting some orders soon.”
She walked back into the kitchen. Though she wasn’t exactly graceful or beautiful, there was something alluring about her—her full figure and shapely lower body gave her a certain charm.
“You like… that type?” Dr. Lin asked, noticing that Zhou Ze had been watching the owner’s wife as she left.
“No,” Zhou Ze shook his head. I like your type, but you won’t even sleep with me, he thought to himself.
The thought of not being able to sleep with Dr. Lin had been nagging at him for a long time, almost becoming an obsession. He had to admit that Dr. Lin was indeed very beautiful and young. Even though she was Xu Le’s wife and despite Zhou Ze never having been married in his previous life, he couldn’t deny that he wanted her. It was precisely because he couldn’t have her that it gnawed at him constantly.
“Not going home?” Dr. Lin asked again.
“Not going,” Zhou Ze confirmed.
“Then I’m leaving,” Dr. Lin stood up. “Call me if you need anything.”
After all, he was her nominal husband, even if they didn’t have a real marital relationship.
“Okay,” Zhou Ze nodded. If he had known she was so easy to talk to and so considerate, he would have borrowed some money from her when he was broke.
Dr. Lin left, driving off in her Porsche Cayenne.
Zhou Ze remained seated in the noodle shop. His bookstore was just next door and although he had finished eating, it wasn’t a bad place to sit and chat, given that they were neighbors.
The owner came out from the back, offering Zhou Ze a cigarette.
“How much do I owe you?” Zhou Ze asked.
“Don’t worry about it. One bowl of noodles isn’t going to bankrupt me,” the owner replied generously. “We’re neighbors, after all. No need to be strangers over a bowl of noodles.”
“Your wife won’t scold you?” Zhou Ze asked, half-jokingly.
“She’s a woman. What does she know? It’s not her place to speak,” the owner replied, his chauvinistic attitude clear.
No matter how things were at home, a man still had to put on a front outside. No one wanted to admit they were henpecked, just as no one wanted to admit any personal shortcomings.
“Heh, your wife is quite attractive,” Zhou Ze said.
Teasing someone else’s wife was usually taboo. But if two men were casually commenting on a woman passing by, it became a light-hearted topic.
The owner paused for a moment, but then smiled. He had a good temperament, knowing that in small businesses, maintaining friendly relations was important.
“She’s got a great figure—big up top, big down below. Sturdy, full of flavor, just like the noodles I ate. Plenty of broth,” Zhou Ze continued.
The owner took a deep drag on his cigarette.
“How is she in bed?” Zhou Ze asked, pushing the boundaries further this time.
The owner clenched his fists but quickly shrugged it off with a smile. “Her legs could crush a man. Real strong.”
Zhou Ze laughed and the owner chuckled along.
“Can you handle it?” Zhou Ze pressed on. “She’s in her prime, after all.”
The owner patted his waist. “Can’t keep up anymore. Not a young man anymore.”
“How about I give it a try?” Zhou Ze asked.
The owner’s face darkened, his knuckles cracking as he clenched his fists tighter.
“You might be done, but I’m still young,” Zhou Ze muttered. Although this statement was somewhat insincere, Xu Le’s physique, no matter how young, felt more like a wax figure than anything else. Zhou Ze had actually maintained his own body better in his previous life.
“This joke’s gone too far, don’t you think?” the owner said, trying to suppress his anger.
“What if your wife agrees?” Zhou Ze continued.
“Was that woman earlier your wife?” the owner asked, changing the subject.
“Yeah,” Zhou Ze nodded.
“Would you be willing to share her?” the owner countered.
Zhou Ze hesitated for a moment before shaking his head. Though Dr. Lin had been Xu Le’s wife, she was now his in name and he wasn’t willing to let her go.
“Then why do you think I’d be willing?” the owner asked.
“You never know, maybe you’ve got some peculiar preferences. These days, it’s not so uncommon,” Zhou Ze replied.
“Brother, it’s been a long time since I hit someone,” the owner said, standing up.
“Call your wife out. I want to hear what she has to say,” Zhou Ze leaned back slightly, smiling.
“Heh.” The owner stepped closer to Zhou Ze.
“Stand here and call her out,” Zhou Ze insisted.
“You’re asking for death!” The owner lunged at him.
“Can she even come out?” Zhou Ze asked suddenly.
The owner froze in place, his face instantly draining of color as he stumbled backward in terror.
Zhou Ze stood up, walked to the back room and pulled aside the curtain.
The room was empty.
Hanging from a clothes rack was a woman’s skin, swaying gently in the breeze that came in when the curtain was drawn.
“How did you know?” the owner asked as he slowly approached, his voice devoid of emotion.
“There’s a saying… Are you trying to fool a ghost?” Zhou Ze replied, turning to face the owner. “That skin of yours… it’s time to take it off as well.”
“I’m curious,” Zhou Ze continued, “just how bored are you, playing this kind of double act here?”
Storyteller Bamboo Ninja's Words
Hey! ༼ つ ◕‿◕ ༽つ Thank you for reading! Hopefully you enjoyed it! Updates will happen daily (will notify in discord if I take a break)
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