Love for You

"I'll pick you up after work. Do you want to eat out or cook at home?"

"Whatever, you decide."

"How about instant noodles at home then?"

"Sure."

She's always been easy to please since childhood.

"Come here." He propped his long legs on the ground, holding her helmet with a slight smile curling his lips. "Come closer."

Miao Jing took two steps forward. He pinched her chin and sought her crimson lips for a kiss: "Focus on work and don't wander off. Leave the company with colleagues, call me if anything comes up."

Their breaths intertwined briefly before parting. Miao Jing quickly glanced around, reminding him to be careful on the road and stay safe.

The life of a househusband was generally leisurely. Chen Yi first went to Paloquemao market for groceries - this was considered Bogotá's trendy market, with endless stalls displaying colorful fruits and vegetables. There was even an Asian vegetable stall where you could buy mushrooms, tofu, water spinach, and bean sprouts. The flower section boasted ocean-like blooms and delphiniums in fairy-blue hues costing just two yuan per stem.

Passing by a bakery, he bought a blueberry pie to thank Pierre for lending his car. This French old man was shrewd about details yet generous and warm-hearted. Chen Yi would chat with him daily - Spanish wasn't too difficult to pick up initially, though grammar and speaking speed remained challenges. The two men would sit in the garden reading newspapers over coffee, stumbling through conversations about everything from Bogotá's weekend hiking trails and motorcycle parades to China's major cities and global influence, managing to kill half the morning. Chen Yi's broken Spanish improved rapidly, gradually becoming sufficient for daily conversations.

With household chores still waiting, he couldn't linger. Chen Yi went upstairs to tidy up, iron clothes, and turned on the TV for local news before hanging laundry on the rooftop. Sitting on the edge, he lit a cigarette contentedly, watching snow-white sheets flutter gently in the breeze.

Someone called "Chen" in a strange accent from downstairs, bicycle bell ringing - it was Ramirez's eldest son Gino. Only seventeen this year, Gino worked part-time dog walking during the day and served as a restaurant waiter at night. Today he came to take Chen Yi around the old town district, mainly the Santafe area - Bogotá's most vibrant nightlife neighborhood packed with bars, hotels, and backpackers.

Gino brought Chen Yi to a somewhat famous billiards hall.

Having played Snooker and Chinese Eight-Ball back home, Chen Yi found Colombia favored Carom and Pool with particularly fierce gameplay. He wanted to try South American billiards styles.

The local billiards culture was quite casual - worn tables and aggressive cue strokes focused mainly on pocketing balls. The young locals had never seen a Chinese person in the billiards hall before. Tall and nonchalant, dressed in flashy yet cheap clothes that contrasted sharply with typical Chinese restraint. Watching his shots revealed standard Snooker techniques.

Chen Yi only brought 100,000 pesos, openly placing them beside the table - 10,000 pesos per game. Everyone thought the money would be easily won, but by 3 PM he still hadn't lost it all. With the remaining cash, Chen Yi bought everyone drinks, thus making a group of billiards friends.

At dusk, Chen Yi took the bus to pick up Miao Jing after work. Though they'd agreed on instant noodles at home, pushing the door open revealed fragrant aromas from the kitchen - a seafood medley simmering with onions, tofu, tomatoes, and mushrooms in the pot, plus Caribbean lobster with basil seasoning in the oven. Whistling, Chen Yi boiled two packets of instant noodles and served them steaming hot to Miao Jing.Her beautiful eyes sparkled, gazing at him with surprise and amusement.

"Try it and see how it tastes?" Chen Yi casually picked lobster meat for her. "Made following a lazy cookbook recipe."

The flavor wasn't perfect, but it exceeded expectations. The meal was thoroughly enjoyable, and after dinner, they opened a bottle of wine and brought out small cakes, curling up on the sofa to watch a movie.

Life was simple, time flew by, and weekends were leisurely and free. In Bogotá, the city's main roads were closed to vehicles on weekends, allowing citizens to cycle, run, or exercise. The city's atmosphere relaxed as they went out for a stroll. Street vendors grilled corn coated with cream and sprinkled with salt, creating a unique sweet and salty flavor. They then sat in a café with a cup of coffee and French bread, easily passing the morning hours.

Pigeons in Bolívar Square swarmed and nearly knocked people over, while playing children and cheerleading performances erupted in laughter. Bogotá had many renowned museums to pass the time. Chen Yi took Miao Jing wandering through the old town, walking to local markets where they could find interesting trinkets—handicrafts from various ethnic groups, hard-to-find records by Latin American singers, earrings and necklaces woven by Venezuelan refugees, and uniquely styled clothing and shoes.

Lunch usually consisted of local snacks from the market: blood sausage with rice, pink roasted potatoes, fried ants and insects, and cold shrimp in sour soup. After the meal, they hiked up Monserrate. Dinner, of course, was reserved for the restaurant on the mountain, serving delicious Peruvian cuisine. They chose a table by the window in the dimly lit restaurant, where a band played the accordion and sang softly, and nearby diners whispered. The table was laden with appetite-whetting seafood paella, spicy grilled skewers, lamb chop pasta, and Peruvian beer.

Overlooking Bogotá at the foot of the mountain, the nightscape glittered with endless lights, revealing the city as a metropolis of ten million people. The terrace breeze was cool, and whether due to altitude sickness or corn-based liquor, there was a faint sense of weightlessness. A foreign couple nearby was already passionately kissing. Chen Yi wrapped Miao Jing's slender frame in his coat, kissing her earlobes and cheeks meticulously. Enveloped in his intense scent, she felt the stubble on his chin brush against her sensitive neck and ears, her fingers trembling and curling pale. The dazzling lights before her eyes blurred into a dizzying spin.

Evening entertainment awaited. Avoiding risky elements, they immersed themselves in the local vibe. The night market in the old town bustled until 2 a.m., filled with Latin American girls with delicate features, curvaceous figures in skinny jeans or miniskirts, exuding freedom and a hint of provocative danger. They went to a bar for drinks, where the locals, unfamiliar with East Asian faces, greeted them with constant "holas," frequently asking for photos or to share a drink. Miao Jing ordered a mojito at the bar, and the bartender handed her a 1-liter tankard, leaving her cheeks flushed and gaze hazy.

The entire bar was dancing—Colombian salsa, with its spicy, ambiguous moves and passionate energy. Miao Jing blushed as she watched, swaying in Chen Yi's arms to the music before retreating to a secluded corner for a lingering, deep kiss. Heat and intoxication rose from within, leaving them both unable to restrain themselves.