kvmb Chapter 322 Bar
Chapter 322 Bar
June 16, 1998, 9 PM.
Palo Alto.
As Lingyun changed her clothes, her phone rang; it was Dell's number.
"Ling, it's 7:30 tonight. I'll come pick you up." Dell's voice came through the receiver, though the background was a bit noisy.
"No need, I'll drive myself."
"Don't drive yourself, let's drink tonight, until we're drunk." Dell chuckled. "Let the bodyguard drive!"
Ling Yun glanced at Zhao Hu sitting in the living room and said, "Okay."
"Then at 7:30, at your door."
After hanging up the phone, Ling Yun put it in her pocket and walked out of the bedroom.
Zhao Hu stood up and looked at him. "Are you going out tonight?" Zhao Hu asked.
"Yes. Dell arranged it."
Zhao Hu nodded. He was wearing a dark jacket, the kind that was so ordinary that you wouldn't notice him if he blended into a crowd.
At 7:30, a black Mercedes pulled up in front of the car. The window rolled down, and Dell, sitting in the back seat, waved to Lingyun.
"Get in the car."
Ling Yun opened the car door and got in. Zhao Hu got into the passenger seat. The driver was a white man in his forties, wearing sunglasses. He didn't say a word until everyone was seated, then he stepped on the gas.
The car drove into the night.
"Where to?" Lingyun asked.
Dell smiled mysteriously, "You'll see when we get there; it'll definitely be worth the trip."
Ling Yun didn't ask any more questions. He leaned back in his seat and looked out the window. The streets of Palo Alto slowly receded, cafes, bookstores, supermarkets, one after another. Then came the residential areas, the houses becoming sparser and the trees more numerous.
The car drove for more than twenty minutes and stopped in front of an inconspicuous building.
There were no signs, no neon lights, only two security guards in black suits standing at the entrance, earphones in their ears. The building was red brick and looked quite old, like a converted old factory. Ivy climbed the walls, its leaves gleaming a dark green under the streetlights.
"We're here." Dell opened the car door.
Ling Yun got out of the car, followed by Zhao Hu, who glanced around.
The security guard glanced at them, recognized Dell, nodded, and opened the door.
It's another world inside.
The lighting was dim, a warm yellow hue emanating from the wall lamps. The music was soft, jazz, with a saxophone playing slowly in the corner and occasional piano notes. There was a faint scent of perfume in the air, not pungent, but very subtle, almost imperceptible.
The bar counter was long, made of black marble, gleaming softly under the lights. Three bartenders stood behind it, dressed in white shirts and black bow ties, mixing drinks. One was shaking a jug; the clinking of ice cubes produced a crisp, bell-like sound.
The booths were furnished with deep red leather sofas surrounding a low table with candles lit on it. The candles were the kind in small round glasses, their flames flickering gently and casting swaying shadows on the wall.
Although there were quite a few people, it wasn't noisy; only soft music played, creating a very relaxing atmosphere. Some people were drinking, some were talking quietly, and some were leaning back on the sofa, twirling their wine glasses and looking away. Occasionally, laughter could be heard, very soft and brief, as if afraid of disturbing others.
Dell led Lingyun inside and sat her down in a booth against the wall. The sofa was very soft, and she sank in half of it. There was already a bottle of water, two glasses, and a small dish of nuts on the table.
Zhao Hu sat down at the next table and ordered a glass of water. His seat offered a perfect view of the entire bar, including the entrance.
"This place is nice." Ling Yun looked around.
"Absolutely great." Dale leaned back on the sofa, crossed his legs, and said, "The best bar in Palo Alto. No sign, no advertising, just regulars."
"How did you find it?"
"A friend recommended me," Dell smiled. "We've gotten to know each other better after a while."
The waitress approached; she was a young woman in a black dress, her hair styled in an updo, revealing her long, slender neck. She held the wine list in her hand, standing by the table, slightly bowing.
Dell took it, glanced at it, and handed it back to the waiter.
"Whiskey, old-fashioned," he said.
Ling Yun thought for a moment. "The same."
The waiter nodded, scribbled something in his small black notebook, and then left. She walked with a graceful gait, her high heels clicking softly on the floor.
Dell looked at him with a playful expression.
"Do you know why this bar doesn't have a sign?" he asked.
"have no idea."
"Because the people who come in don't want the outside world to know they've been here," Dell said, taking a sip of his water. "Politicians, lawyers, investors, Silicon Valley bosses. Everyone has things they don't want others to know."
He pointed to a booth diagonally opposite. A white man in his fifties, wearing a dark suit, was sitting there talking to a young woman. The woman laughed softly, her head slightly lowered, revealing a section of her snow-white neck.
"That's the senator's chief of staff," Dale said. "He comes every week."
He then pointed to a middle-aged man sitting at the bar. "That's a professor at Stanford, a Nobel laureate, and divorced three times."
Ling Yun didn't speak.
"But you're different," Dale continued. "You have nothing to hide."
How did you know?
Dell laughed. "Just a guess."
The drink arrived in two clear glasses, containing an amber-colored liquid with an ice cube and a slice of lemon peel on top. The glasses were thick-bottomed and quite heavy, giving them a substantial feel in the hand.
Dell picked up a glass and raised it to Lingyun.
"Cheers."
Ling Yun also picked up his glass and took a sip. The whiskey was strong, with a smoky flavor that burned from his throat to his stomach. The combination of the cool liquid and the burning sensation was strange.
Dell put down his cup, leaned back on the sofa, and looked towards the door.
"A lot of people will be here soon," he said.
Ling Yun also looked towards the doorway.
Before long, more people started to arrive. Groups of two or three people, men and women, mostly white and well-dressed, entered. The men were mostly in suits or casual suits, while the women wore skirts, wore makeup, and carried small bags. They went to the bar or found booths to sit down and begin drinking and chatting.
Like any other bar, it was nothing special, but soon, Lingyun noticed something.
More and more women came in, but none of them were the flamboyant type. They were all well-dressed and wore exquisite makeup. After they came in, they would sit at the bar for a while or in the booths, occasionally glancing around before lowering their heads again. It was as if they were waiting for something, or perhaps searching for something.
A few people walked up to their booth, slowed down, glanced over, and then walked away.
Dell picked up his glass, took a sip, and smiled.
"Ling," he said, "do you know where this is?"
Ling Yun looked at him with a puzzled expression. "Isn't this just a bar?"