032 The Bar Rules Are Quite Peculiar

Musa and I fell into a brief silence, but Ayoub stayed busy. He summoned a waiter and ordered several bottles of fine wine—the kind not included in the evening’s happy hour specials.

I glanced at the price list and felt a flicker of anxiety. "Actually, I didn't bring enough money for this..."

Ayoub laughed, entirely unbothered. "Don't worry about it. Musa is paying."

Wealthy indeed, I thought to myself, watching him squander money with such ease. I snuck a glance at Musa and said, "This... doesn't feel right."

Musa shook his head gently. "You did most of the work on our group project, and we weren't able to help much. Consider this a token of our gratitude."

With him putting it that way, I felt a bit more at ease. Yet, the realization that Musa kept such a precise tally of our favors left a strange taste in my mouth. I bit my lip slightly and turned my head toward the dance floor.

While Musa and I were quiet, Lianpian and Bill were already entangled in a display of affection, bordering on a kiss.

Back home, bars were prime spots for casual encounters; groping and kissing were commonplace, and no one batted an eye. But here, as soon as Lianpian and Bill began to get physical, a bouncer strode over, exchanged a few joking words with them, and effectively put an end to their intimacy.

"What was that about?" I asked, confused. In Dubai, are even bars restricted from such displays of affection?

Ayoub didn't seem to mind. "Even legal couples aren't allowed."

"I see..."

Dubai’s bars were indeed vastly different from those back home.

I scanned the room and noticed that not a single person was smoking. Dubai had strict laws on alcohol, but they had bars; as for smoking, the enforcement seemed even more absolute.

"In China, bars are always filled with people smoking, usually shrouded in a thick haze of fog," I remarked. "But here, there's none of that."

Ayoub nodded and explained, "Here, you must go to designated areas to smoke, and the same goes for drinking. It’s strictly against the rules to bring drinks onto the dance floor."

I thought of the dance floors back home, which were a chaotic blend of drinking, smoking, dancing, and flirting, and sighed thoughtfully. "Under the constraints of religion, even a bar is so wholesome and well-behaved."

Ayoub took a sip of his wine and added, "Actually, there are more liberal bars—the kind with belly dancing or strip shows. They are hidden away in Dubai, but if you look for them, you can find them. However, most people looking for a good time prefer to drive to nearby Bahrain."

I had heard of Bahrain; it was known as the most open and decadent place in the Middle East, famous for its nightlife and alcohol. If people from the surrounding Middle Eastern countries couldn't contain themselves, it was the perfect place to blow off steam without fear of arrest.

I nodded. "That makes sense. With a group as massive as the Muslims, it’s impossible for everyone to strictly adhere to the commandments. There are always those who stray. I can understand that."

Hearing this, Musa, who had been elegantly savoring the rich aroma of his wine, suddenly choked. He coughed repeatedly until he could finally smooth his chest and catch his breath. Regaining his composure, he spoke in a seemingly casual tone, emphasizing, "But Ayoub and I have never been there. We only come to Barasti occasionally for a glass of wine."

I spread my hands, my tone playful. "I never said you had been. Why are you in such a hurry to explain?"

At this, Musa’s clear, golden-brown eyes widened in surprise. He lowered his lashes and remained silent, taking another drink.

Though the lighting was dim, I could easily imagine him blushing. He was gentle, mature, and steady, yet when faced with certain things, he still carried the innocence of a child.