Zhang Shutong recognized from the English on the sign that the shop was called "Glenlivet Pizzeria."
The pizzeria sat at the northernmost edge of the long street. Although the storefront was very exquisite, it was the only old building on the entire street. The two-story little building naturally receded a bit compared to the other bright and glamorous shops.
The surrounding trees and outdoor air conditioning units hid half of it from view, making it hard for anyone to guess that this was an Italian restaurant.
This wasn't information he had deciphered from the English sign; rather, Zhang Shutong had been to this pizzeria before, and more than once.
Back when he was in high school, he had attended many group dinners here. The building had originally been an old newspaper office, and it still retained its solid hardwood floors from those days. Even with meticulous maintenance over such a long time, fading was inevitable; the floorboards creaked underfoot, and the freshly baked pizzas sizzled with oil. These two sounds blended together, only to be drowned out by the talking and laughing of the crowd.
The owner was said to be Italian, though Zhang Shutong didn't know if that was true, only that the man spoke fluent English. The owner was also a man full of stories, having traveled to many countries in his youth. Once he arrived in China, he met the girl he was destined to be with for the rest of his life. Italians possessed romantic bones from head to toe, and thus, this city became the final stop of his journey.
The restaurant wasn't large, with fewer than ten tables. Because it was an old building, the windows were designed in a small grid style, with the windowsills filled with potted plants. In addition, the restaurant featured an art wall, which was lined with travel photos the owner had taken while traveling around the world—gardens of Suzhou and Hangzhou, countryside of Northern Europe, ancient temples of Kyoto... The one that left the deepest impression on Zhang Shutong was a photo of the aurora borealis over a glacier. He had asked the owner if it was the South Pole or the North Pole, and the man replied that it was Iceland. Beneath the photo of Iceland sat a horn-shaped record player, which was currently playing a cold, drawn-out melody. However, the room was well-heated and the lighting was dim, allowing people to relax completely and feel a faint sense of cozy intimacy.
Zhang Shutong liked to pick a seat by the window. He didn't participate much in everyone's conversations, merely teasing the mimosa plant on the windowsill with his finger while spearing a piece of pizza to eat slowly. By that time, night would fall, and the commercial district opposite would be brightly lit, illuminating half of the dark night. Gazing out through that window the size of a square tile, he would sometimes feel that the world was vast.
He couldn't be called a regular here, but he had left behind some rowdy memories.
He hadn't expected Gu Qiumian to discover this place as well.
For a moment, Zhang Shutong didn't know if it was a coincidence... or if she had planned this all along.
Zhang Shutong suspected she had her eyes on this spot since last night, which was why she had so generously agreed to check out KFC with him first. Perhaps during that period when she went quiet, she had secretly switched to her browser to look up the exact time the Grilled Beef Twister was discontinued, keeping everything under her control just to let Zhang Shutong know exactly how he died.
Zhang Shutong thought to himself, Monitor, you really are getting more and more formidable, but you absolutely never expected that I've been to the place you picked too, and might even be more familiar with it than you.
Over the past few days, he had been chatting with Gu Qiumian on QQ and picked up some details about her past. Because her social circle had changed, even when she left the island on weekends to hang out, she rarely brought along a grand entourage of people like she used to.
If it was just about treating someone to a meal, the county town was never short of places to eat. But if they went to the city proper to play, she gravitated toward small, refined experiences, only inviting a few of her close friends. For instance, going to the polar world inside the aquarium to watch penguins and seals perform; or screaming continuously on roller coasters at the amusement park; or playing escape rooms—Gu Qiumian was a brave girl too, often closing her eyes to lead the charge at the front.
Zhang Shutong realized he used to understand her far too little; right now felt like getting to know her all over again.
At this moment, she turned her face back and asked, "Do you guys think eating pizza is okay?"
The three boys said yes in unison.
Satisfied, she turned her head back, her hair swaying with the movement.
The party of five entered the pizzeria, and the wind chimes at the door rang out with a loud clatter.
The inside and outside of the room felt like two different worlds. Their vision dimmed first. Overhead hung a massive crystal chandelier, serving more as decoration than illumination. A candlestick sat on each table, the candlelight warm, making it feel as if they were stepping into a Western-style mansion.
"Wow, a candlelit dinner..." Du Kang muttered in a low voice as soon as he entered. "How come there are even foreigners?"
He stepped carefully onto the wooden floorboards, terrified of breaking the silence inside the room.
"It's a Western restaurant, after all." Qingyi maintained a deadpan face no matter where he went, but his voice instinctively lowered as well. "It's my first time coming to a place like this. It feels very high-end."
"It must be expensive," Ruoping also said in a low voice.
"Definitely expensive. Look over there, they even have a dedicated wine cabinet," Du Kang said with sound logic. "My dad said that for restaurant owners, as long as there's a dedicated wine cabinet, the alcohol fees are absolutely the major component. Restaurants that make money off alcohol fees are bound to be expensive."
The three of them looked at the silhouette ahead at the same time. While they were hesitating, Gu Qiumian had already struck up a conversation in a low voice with a waiter wearing a black vest and a white shirt. Following that, the waiter bowed slightly, extended his arm, and led them to a table.
"Don't just stand there in a daze," Ruoping nudged the two of them, muttering under her breath. "We're already here, so stop being so sheepish..."
Gritting his teeth, Du Kang was the first to follow, thinking to himself that even if they belonged to two different worlds, it wasn't as if they hadn't spoken at school before. They weren't the only four in the entire school who had eaten with Gu Qiumian, so there was no reason to lose his nerve here.
But once he sat down, he faced another dilemma. The waiter brought over a tray containing hot towels; he knew these were meant for wiping hands. The waiter then served a glass of lemon water; since it had a lemon slice, it should be for drinking rather than rinsing his mouth. However, a napkin folded like a flower was stacked on the plate—how exactly was this thing supposed to be used? Tucked into the collar like they did in the movies?
"Take it away, please."
Zhang Shutong waved his hand to dismiss the waiter; he hadn't understood what use this thing had back then either.
He pointed at the goblet again. "And the glasses, we won't ne—"
But before he could finish his sentence, Gu Qiumian closed the menu with a snap. "Do you guys want to drink?"
"Drink... alcohol?" Ruoping instinctively glanced at that wine cabinet that looked very expensive.
"Yeah," Gu Qiumian said with complete carelessness. "We have nothing to do this afternoon. Do you guys usually drink beer? It shouldn't get you drunk."
She whispered something into Ruoping's ear again. Who knows what the two said, but Ruoping actually nodded and agreed. As long as Ruoping agreed, the three boys had no say in the matter.
The waiter, who was just about to clear away the goblet, withdrew his hand.
It was inevitable for Zhang Shutong to wonder if Gu Qiumian quite liked to drink.
He remembered that in the past, when they were browsing the supermarket on the island, Gu Qiumian had stood in front of the cocktail shelf staring for a long time, asking him if he wanted to buy a few cans to drink with his friends. When asked then if she drank often, she said she did okay—she would drink a bit when she was in a good mood.
Zhang... Shutong hadn't understood the underlying meaning of those words back then, but now he did. The times when she was in a good mood were actually quite frequent. It stood to reason that her home was not short of alcohol either; he just didn't know what her tolerance was like.
"Red wine or white wine?" Gu Qiumian asked again, propping her chin up.
She looked a bit like President Gu again now, her aura pressing down a head above the four of them, looking as if this Italian restaurant were her personal cafeteria. Without even looking at the menu much, she had casually ordered the dishes while discussing the alcohol—from appetizers to main courses to desserts after the meal. Sometimes she would pause to ask about flavor preferences, and hearing it, everyone naturally raised no objections, so she nimbly moved to the next step.
"Just order whatever you see fit," Zhang Shutong couldn't help but speak up to remind her.
The number of times the four of them usually drank was truly sparse. When they grandly shouted for a bottle of spirits in a restaurant, they were referring to Nutrition Express juice; if they encountered the real deal, they would instantly expose their ignorance.
He typed in the group chat again, saying, I've been here before. It's not as expensive as you guys think, even though the decor really is a bit intimidating.
The young miss pondered for a long time but still hadn't selected a wine. They always said red wine pairs with red meat and white wine pairs with white meat, with every type of meat having a suitable type of wine—acidity, astringency, aroma... even the season had to be taken into account.
For those who were even more particular, they would consider the origin of the wine, which estate and which vintage. She had maintained an aura of being perfectly in her element just now, but right now her brows were knitted slightly.
Everyone looked on with solemn respect, thinking to himself that something capable of making even Gu Qiumian look as if she were facing a formidable enemy was bound to be extraordinary.
Zhang Shutong didn't understand wine, but his past job gave him a conceptual grasp of these things.
"Shutong, should we advise her to stop ordering?" Du Kang asked in a low voice.
Zhang Shutong said, "Let me look." He tilted his head, watching Gu Qiumian's gaze waffle back and forth on a certain page of the menu, thinking to himself, So that's how it is.
He had nearly been fooled as well, thinking she really was seriously considering what wine would pair appropriately with this meal. However, Zhang Shutong scanned the names of the wines and realized she wasn't picking wine, but rather seriously picking a beverage.
Most were sweet sparkling wines. This kind of wine was generally used as an aperitif, so there was no need to consider the main course. To describe it in Zhang Shutong's words, it was sweet water; gulping it down in one draft was about the same as soda. No wonder Gu Qiumian suggested drinking; he had thought she was having a sudden burst of inspiration to open a bottle of champagne.
"This one will do." Zhang Shutong extended his finger, making the decision for her. "Moscato d'Asti. It has a great aroma and a faint hint of peach flavor."
Zhang Shutong had drunk this brand of wine quite a bit in the past. It wasn't expensive, around eighty yuan. His taste buds were dull, so he couldn't tell the quality of average wine apart. When his classmates ate pizza, he would just pick up sparkling wine to drink as a thirst-quenching beverage; after drinking back and forth, he had nearly tried all the wine here.
Zhang Shutong had also guessed what she had whispered into Ruoping's ear just now. White wine generally needed to be chilled, so she was likely asking if it was convenient for her to drink recently and things of that nature.
He felt Gu Qiumian should like this kind with a bit more fragrance. He spoke a sentence casually, only to find that the dining table had fallen silent.
"Since when do you understand this too, Shutong?" Du Kang was shocked.
Zhang Shutong thought to himself, Can you stop being so surprised, acting as if I didn't understand it in the past. It's just that the island lacked the conditions. He thought about it and shifted the blame to his mom, saying she loved to drink it.
But it was wrong for Gu Qiumian to follow up with surprise as well:
"How do you know I like to drink peach-flavored things?"
Zhang Shutong couldn't say why either; he felt it was more like... intuition? It was as if his subconscious mind told him Gu Qiumian liked this flavor.
"Are you doing this on purpose?" Gu Qiumian suddenly sized him up seriously for a moment.
"What do you mean on purpose?"
But Gu Qiumian stopped talking. Instead, she leaned her face slightly closer, the flickering candlelight on the dining table making her eyes dim and bright alternately, looking as if she were about to press against his face. Just as Zhang Shutong was about to speak, she spared the others a glance and drew her body back again, appearing as though she were saying, I'll settle the score with you later.
Zhang... Shutong discovered that he had done a bad deed with good intentions? It was better to keep a low profile instead.
Next came today's main course—
Coming to a pizzeria was naturally about eating pizza.
On matters like this, girls were naturally more dilatory than boys.
The three boys took one look and settled on the mushroom and ham one, but the two girls whispered into each other's ears again.
"I don't understand it very well, Qiumian. Just order whatever you see fit," Ruoping acted very ladylike.
"It's fine, ah," Gu Qiumian was seriously using her modal particles. "I come here often, and I feel they are all very delicious. Can we eat seafood?"
"Sure. But you don't need to look after me too much; what about you? What do you like to eat?"
"Me..."
For some reason, Zhang Shutong felt he was spared another glance by Gu Qiumian.
There were only five categories on the menu. This was an Italian restaurant, so it was naturally impossible to be as wild as Pizza Hut, with durian, roast duck, fried chicken, and the like... Everything was strictly classic flavors.
Margherita, seafood, ham and mushroom, meat sauce.
The final item was the seasonal pizza.
Zhang Shutong knew this was the hidden option of this shop. On the surface, it meant leaving it to the chef's discretion based on today's ingredients, but if you became familiar with the owner—who was also the head chef—or rather, if you could communicate with him smoothly, you could actually make requests yourself. As long as the restaurant had the ingredients, he could serve it to you.
Ultimately, Gu Qiumian made the call.
One ham pizza was ordered by the boys, and one seafood pizza was what Ruoping wanted to eat. She added that seeing no one had anything particular they wanted to eat, they would order one more seasonal pizza and leave it to the chef to improves freely.
Everyone nodded one after another, and the matter of ordering food came to a close.
The waiter poured the sparkling wine for them. Gu Qiumian took a sip, but said she needed to go to the restroom.
She tapped Zhang Shutong's chair crossly—a habit formed back when they were desk mates. Knowing she wanted to get out, Zhang Shutong sensibly cleared the way.
Gu Qiumian let out a huff and left with her long hair fluttering behind her.
...
Antonio was pondering what flavor today's "seasonal pizza" should be.
This "Glenlivet Pizzeria" was in its fifth year, which was also the fifth year he had spent in China.
To be honest, there wasn't much time for him to think, because the restaurant's seats had been completely booked up over midday, which meant he would be fighting in this kitchen filled with ovens for the next hour.
He adjusted his chef's hat, having just come up with a few ideas, when the kitchen curtain was pulled open.
"What is it, honey?" Antonio asked casually.
Usually, only his wife would come to the kitchen to find him.
But the one who came this time was a young girl.
She had long black hair, an oval face, fair skin, and rosy lips. She wore a black shirt, and when she didn't speak or smile, her entire person exuded a cold aura, like a noble little princess.
For an Italian, appreciating and respecting beauty was practically an instinct etched into his bones.
Antonio froze first, then smiled. He held a deep impression of this girl; or rather, who wouldn't hold a deep impression of a beautiful and generous customer?
"Oh, it's you. What can I do for you, beautiful young lady?" he said in English.
As for whether the other party could understand it, that had nothing to do with him. Antonio actually knew how to speak Chinese, and even knew that "wo ta ma" was a Chinese curse word.
But sometimes speaking English was a manifestation of making people back off. Some people always felt a "foreigner" was a very amusing thing, which made him rather helpless as a foreigner; sometimes when the number of casual conversations grew too numerous, it would get a bit annoying.
And even though the girl in front of him would come here to eat every once in a while, she had never interacted with him.
In reality, he didn't quite want to speak to anyone right now, not even his own wife, because he was already busy to the point of being overwhelmed. However, his good upbringing made him keep his patience and slow his tone down.
"Do you have beef tenderloin in the restaurant?"
To his surprise, the girl was blunt, likewise asking in fluent English.
Antonio knew he couldn't stump this girl, so he simply switched to Chinese and said, "Beef tenderloin? Do you mean tenderly roasted, marinated steak?"
"Close enough. But place it on the pizza."
"Oh, you mean today's seasonal pizza. Of course that's possible. Excellent idea." Enlightenment dawned upon Antonio. The price of this kind of pizza where requests could be made was naturally not fixed either. He snapped his fingers. "My pleasure. I was just wondering what to make."
Now a very fresh conception had already formed in his mind—some Red Leicester cheese to provide a rich, aromatic undertone and color, some shredded buffalo mozzarella to complement the savory and tender beef tenderloin, and then a few basil leaves to garnish, making it a wonderful...
"What about chili sauce?"
Antonio froze again, almost blurting out that wo ta ma am Italian. "What?"
The girl, however, stared at her phone, and followed up by asking, "And lettuce, diced tomatoes, and tortilla chips?"
"That sounds like a Mexican flavor profile."
"Can it be done, or can it not be done?"
"That's no problem, of course, except that tortilla chips cannot be provided."
Antonio thought to himself that this girl was a bit strange; why come to an Italian restaurant to eat a pizza with a Mexican flavor profile?
"The rest you can improvise yourself."
"Of course I can," he repeated once more.
The girl nodded and left. Antonio let out a breath; in truth, he hadn't wanted to take this job, but his professional ethics told him to do so. Even though as an Italian he really, really didn't want to make a strange Mexican-style pizza, the customer was god.
Next, this war belonging exclusively to him was about to be waged, but the door curtain was lifted open again.
"Is there any other request, beautiful young lady?" Antonio forced a smile.
But the one who came this time was a youth.