Yina had been in Luzhou for two years, and in the blink of an eye, it was time to return home. She had come here seeking her dreams, but never expected to leave disappointed. Having lived through that era of great upheaval, Russians now lacked faith—decades of belief had crumbled, and they still hadn't recovered. In a way, Yina was a beneficiary; otherwise, she wouldn't have had the chance to become a university professor. Yet, the more she saw, the more unsettled she felt. A gloom lingered in her heart, unable to lift. What could ease her sorrow? Only vodka.
*Bang, bang.*
Yina lazily got up from the sofa, her long legs—nearly six feet—nowhere to rest, and listlessly opened the door.
"Teacher Zhou, you're here to study already?"
"Yeah, I want to learn as much as I can before you leave." Zhou You looked at Yina's languid demeanor and wondered if she was even fit to teach.
As he spoke, he set the vodka on the coffee table. These foreign exchange teachers all lived in two-bedroom apartments, fully furnished with everything they needed—much better than the newly hired university faculty. Best of all, it was free.
"Vodka, and Stolichnaya Elit! Wow, I love you, Zhou!" Yina's eyes lit up at the sight of the vodka he'd brought. She threw her arms around him in a hug and planted a loud kiss on his cheek.
Zhou You was taken aback. Around here, he wasn't used to such customs. Her embrace was generous—he could feel the pressure even through their clothes.
"I bought it specially, pure import. Hope you like it, Yina?" Zhou You asked knowingly; her expression said it all.
"Like it? I love it! This is my favorite brand. I can't get used to the liquor here," Yina gushed, the topic of alcohol setting her off on a tangent. "You guys have all these types—sauce aroma, strong aroma, light aroma—it's too complicated. Our vodka is better, especially the plain kind."
Zhou You nodded in agreement. He sometimes enjoyed vodka himself—pure and natural. Plain vodka was colorless and tasteless, with no burn on the tongue, almost like drinking mineral water. But the moment it hit your throat, everything changed. It was like a trail of fire sliding down into your stomach, as satisfying as eating ice cream in the dog days of summer or stepping into a warm room in winter. The only problem was that vodka went down too easily, with no warning from the taste buds, so many people drank too much without realizing it. In Russia, it was a winter staple for keeping warm.
"Zhou, can I have a glass first? I haven't had it in so long—I'm really craving it." Yina looked at him sheepishly. Even in Russia, this wasn't the most polite request, but she couldn't help it.
Watching Yina, nearly six feet tall, bow her head and speak softly, there was a certain charm in the contrast.
"No problem, I'll join you for a bit." Zhou You felt like having some too.
Yina excitedly grabbed two glass cups from the cabinet and poured a glass for each.
"Wait, don't you have any snacks or appetizers? Even a plate of peanuts would do?" Zhou You frowned. Drinking straight like this didn't feel right.
"I do, I do! I still have some sausages I brought from home. I'll slice a bit, but that's all that's left—sorry." Yina suddenly remembered the ham sausages she'd brought from her country, originally to stave off homesickness if she couldn't stomach the local food.
She took them out of the fridge, quickly sliced them, and set them on the table.
"Back home, we sometimes drink with pickled cucumbers or smoked fish," Yina explained again. "If you ever come to Russia, Teacher Zhou, I'll show you the local cuisine."
Well, something was better than nothing. Zhou You was here to learn, after all.
"Cheers!" Yina took an eager gulp.
She closed her eyes as the liquor went down, and when it reached her stomach, she let out a satisfied sigh, sinking into the sofa, completely relaxed.
Zhou You was stunned. That one gulp was half a glass—at least an ounce or two. No wonder they called them a warrior nation.
Alcohol gave courage to the timid, and she was already fierce to begin with—this was like adding a buff.
Zhou You took a small sip and picked up a slice of sausage. It was chewy, with plenty of tendons—good for drinking.
And so they chatted, switching between Chinese and Russian as they went. Whether anyone else could understand didn't matter; Zhou You found it enjoyable.
Halfway through the bottle, Yina stood up from the sofa and walked to an open space, unable to resist breaking into song:
*"When the pear blossoms spread across the horizon,* *Soft veils drift on the river;* *Katyusha stands on the steep bank,* *Her song like the bright spring sun.* *Katyusha stands on the steep bank,* *Her song like the bright spring sun.* *The girl sings a beautiful tune,* *She sings of the eagle on the steppe."*
She sang and danced, shedding her jacket to reveal a white tank top underneath, her long hair flowing as she moved gracefully. If only she'd put down the bottle in her hand. Midway through, she'd opened another bottle and was drinking straight from it, abandoning the glass. As Yina put it, "We don't have a habit of using glasses back home!"
Respecting others' customs.
Zhou You eventually recognized the song—it was "Katyusha." Yina sang it well, or he wouldn't have caught on. It was a familiar tune in Russia, and many Chinese knew it too, though its popularity had waned in recent years. But whether in Chinese or Russian, the word "Katyusha" was unmistakable.
Yina seemed moved by the dance. She set down the bottle, went to the sofa, and pulled Zhou You up.
"I'll teach you to sing—I can dance too!"
Zhou You didn't refuse.
They held hands, linked arms, and stepped in sync, their feet tapping rhythmically. Honestly, singing and dancing like this was quite fun.
The alcohol blurred their senses.
When Zhou You woke up, he found himself in bed. Beside him, Yina, her hair disheveled, opened her eyes and looked at him.
Her big blue eyes blinked.
"Zhou, you have a great body!"
"You too. I've practiced Sanda before." Zhou You gave her an appraising look.
"Really? No wonder you're so strong." Yina gasped.
"Of course. Look at me—unyielding and proud!" Zhou You felt that drinking had led to trouble. Last night, tipsy, he'd lost his virtue, and he wasn't sure if he'd come out on top.
Yina glanced downward and saw it was indeed unyielding and proud. "I want to learn Sanda."
"Sure."
Teaching was about mutual help, and aiding international friends was a duty.
Sanda emphasized using the whole body's strength, circling behind the opponent to strike deep. But sometimes, you had to charge head-on, relying on momentum—you couldn't give up or cry out, or you'd lose your edge.
Yina gritted her teeth, refusing to surrender.
Zhou You had no choice but to use a classic Sanda move—the leg-catch throw, specifically the upward lift. Only then did he subdue her, forcing her hands to slap the ground.
He shouted, "Katyusha!"
And then he called a halt.
After this battle, Zhou You had tested his combat prowess. If he could even subdue someone from a warrior nation, conquering the world was within reach.
It was near the end of the month. With a single "Katyusha," he lay back, begging for monthly votes.