In a quiet bar in the southern part of the city, Lai Hui and Cheng Lan sat in a corner, half a bottle of 1982 Lafite already gone. Lai Hui lifted the crystal glass, taking a sip, the rich fragrance lingering on her lips. She teased, “Such good wine, if Ouyang finds out you’re wasting it, won’t he fight with you?” Cheng Lan, already slender, seemed even more delicate with a touch of drunkenness, her fingers playing with the crystal glass, a seductive smile on her lips. “Over a bottle of wine? No way!” The red liquid in the glass swayed, her smile stiffening. “Besides, he’s at home with his wife, I’m just evening the score with a bottle of his wine!”
Lai Hui looked at her with pity. “Are you just going to drag this on?” Cheng Lan gave a self-deprecating laugh. “What else can I do? I’m not a virtuous woman to be honored. I can’t leave him, I’ve already wrecked his home, can I drive his wife away too? It’s just bad luck that I met him a year too late!” She laughed again, a laugh with a tinge of mystery, mixed with a few painful groans. “Lai Hui, guess what he and his wife are doing now? Watching TV? Taking a walk? Having a midnight snack?” She laughed until tears streamed down her face. “I bet they’re in bed!” As tears dropped into her wine, she didn’t give Lai Hui a chance to speak, “Don’t guess, it’s twelve-fifteen now, he goes to bed at twelve, starts undressing at twelve-oh-five, ten minutes of foreplay, then showers after half an hour. See, I told you, you can’t guess better than I can!” Her voice broke, trembling, “Lai Hui, just thinking about it hurts so much, every weekend night for three years, I’ve been driven mad with jealousy, I’m afraid one day I won’t be able to take it and end up killing myself!”
