Seven Days of Love

When I woke up, Jin Lan was already at the bar.

There’s a lounge on the second floor of the bar for me to use when I close up too late or drink too much and am too lazy to go home.

Because sometimes, even if I do go home.

Jin Lan isn’t there.

He’s either at the office or off on a business trip.

The bed in the lounge is very small, a single.

The morning sunlight leaked into the room from behind the curtains.

As I woke up, I felt someone wrapping their arms around my waist from behind, pulling me closer into their chest.

Jin Lan’s voice was hoarse, laced with exhaustion.

“I’m sorry.”

Jin Lan didn’t go to the office the next day.

Instead, he stayed at the bar with me all day. That evening, his friends brought in the young thugs who had smashed up the place the night before.

After Jin Lan finished applying medicine to my wound, he calmly rolled down his sleeves.

He reached out, grabbed a beer bottle, and smashed it.

Then he handed it to the guy.

His tone was calm but carried an unquestionable, ruthless edge:

“A police record or the beer bottle.

“Choose for yourself.”