Chapter 34

Hu Xiu was dumbfounded by this sudden accusation of ignorance. “Then what should I be called? Police Chief’s wife? Madam Feng? Those sound terrible!”

“Someone who can’t even get the title right doesn’t deserve to be my wife—what a disgrace for a humanities student to be so bad at history.”

“I’m a science student… The marriage certificate is already signed, so you can’t deny it now!”

Her phone went silent again. Another one of Zha Zhiyu’s habits—he would disappear mid-conversation without explanation, usually to jump straight into another role. His responses always carried a hint of emotion, and right now, he was probably secretly pleased. Hu Xiu stared at the scenery outside the window, smiling to herself. If their timing was right, she would meet Zha Zhiyu again at REGARD.

The moment she pushed open the café door, the rich aroma of coffee greeted her. REGARD’s Christmas tree had already been set up earlier than at other shops. She had seen the pinecones, bells, and gingerbread men in Zhao Xiaorou’s Weibo video. It seemed she had ordered two identical trees and meticulously arranged them before having them delivered to the café. Sure enough, Zhao Xiaorou was sitting at the far end, talking on the phone while working on her laptop, barely able to keep her eyes open but still negotiating seriously with clients. Li Ai was busy attending to customers, greeting Hu Xiu with a nod before discreetly glancing back at Zhao Xiaorou, trying to act casual.

Besides her laptop, Zhao Xiaorou also had a notebook on the table, filled with dates and tasks circled numerous times. It seemed she had gone through a fair share of client negotiations. Hanging up the phone, Zhao Xiaorou sighed, “I really need to find a reliable business partner soon. Managing assistants and handling business while still taking client calls—I went to bed at 6 a.m. and got up at 10 to post a video. Now clients are asking about next month’s content calendar. I feel like I’m going to have a mental breakdown.”

“Is Weibo and the official account stuff that hard?”

“I started a Douyin account too. I recently met someone who specializes in fashion content on Douyin. They promised traffic support, so I quickly bought followers. The natural flow from Weibo is only a few tens of thousands, so this is the best time to buy followers—it looks natural. But if you fake data later, you’ll get exposed. I used to not handle this stuff myself, but now I’m using a small WeChat account to ask questions. I still don’t trust my assistant to buy them.”

Hu Xiu had heard of influencers faking metrics before, but hearing it from Zhao Xiaorou directly was a first. Of course, she couldn’t dig too deeply. “Doesn’t this make you miss Wang Guangming?”

“What are you talking about? Did his urn spring a leak?”

“…Have some decency, Zhao Xiaorou.”

“It’s just tedious. All I did was buy a million followers for 40,000 yuan in one transfer. Now I have to monitor the follower count while factoring in natural growth. It’s exhausting!” Zhao Xiaorou leaned closer to Hu Xiu, still carrying the sweet scent of Bailey’s. “Li Ai said he’d help me recruit a team for this later.”

Her tone was clearly cheerful. Feigning surprise, Hu Xiu deliberately said something flattering: “Does that mean you two have something going on?”

“Who knows? When he heard I was losing sleep, he immediately offered to take over. But he has surgery coming up, and I feel bad for him.”

Not quite a couple, but closer than friends. Shaking her head, Hu Xiu teased, “No wonder Ning Zechen wanted to break up with you.”

“Oh, we had a fight, and the next day he packed up and left. Great in bed but not clingy—he handled it pretty cleanly.”

“Huh?”

“He has plenty of ambiguous contacts on his phone—lots of players secretly adding him on WeChat. There’s a blind spot for the surveillance cameras, right at the corner near the casino entrance. That’s where they all enter. Last time, he took me there and wrote his WeChat ID on my palm in just a few seconds—very smooth. I caught a glimpse of new players calling him ‘brother’ and ‘darling.’ I confronted him about it, and he said I didn’t really care about him anyway. We had an argument and broke up. Relationships like ours—just physical—aren’t solid. The sex was great, but the emotional void was unbearable. Ning Zechen is all brawn and no brain. So many times after a cigarette post-hookup, I thought to myself, Forget it, at least he’s good in bed. I’ll tolerate the nonsense he says. But one time, while I was rushing to prepare for a meeting with a client, he sat there eating instant noodles and reached over to grope me. What’s the deal? Does he only think with his lower half?”

“No need to go into such vivid detail,” Hu Xiu coughed a few times, the sudden mental image catching her off guard.

“When we first started dating, I joked that I was ‘bones, flesh, and skin,’ but do you know what he called me later? He said I was ‘Bak Kut Teh’—what kind of nonsense is that? He talks about genitalia all day long, and if it’s not about lower-body stuff, he has nothing else to say. Can you imagine how suffocating that feels? It’s made me seriously think recently: is it more tragic to be with someone who has a sexy brain but can’t satisfy you physically or someone who’s physically satisfying but an idiot?”

Hu Xiu laughed. “Isn’t there a happy medium?”

“No, there isn’t. In this world—vaginal orgasms and intellectual orgasms never come at the same time.”

“That thought of yours earlier... Can I suspect you’re hinting at Li Ai?”

Just as she finished speaking, Li Ai hobbled over on crutches. “Hinting at me about what?”

“Nothing!” Hu Xiu’s spoon fell onto the table in her panic. “X-ray—uh, your leg. Your leg.”

Even she didn’t believe her excuse. Zhao Xiaorou, however, remained unfazed. “Your surgery’s coming up in a few days. Nervous?”

“Not really. Worst case, I lose the leg and get around in a wheelchair.”

“Ugh, so unlucky. I don’t want a partner with missing limbs—mobility issues will slow me down.”

Li Ai opened his mouth, hesitated, then glanced at the two women before turning and walking away. Zhao Xiaorou pointed at the bar and said, “That woman has been coming around a lot lately.”

“A customer? Regulars are normal,” Hu Xiu replied.

“Not just that. She only ever sits at the bar. Once, the café was empty except for me, and she still came in and sat there. Isn’t that odd? And she only drinks black coffee. While waiting for Li Ai to do a pour-over, she always chats with him. That smile of hers—I know that look. She definitely likes him.”

Following her gaze, Hu Xiu saw a woman with black curly hair. She seemed to be over thirty, wore no makeup, and had a slightly wan complexion, but her features were striking. Her dark pupils betrayed a nervous fragility, yet her entire face was captivating. Occasionally, her cheeks would flush with a gentle red when looking at Li Ai, her demeanor serene when they exchanged smiles. It was clear to any attentive observer that her feelings for Li Ai were far from ordinary—an unhidden yet restrained affection.

The woman turned her head, and the three of them briefly locked eyes. It was Hu Xiu who first looked away. The woman, sensitive as she was, seemed to notice something, said a quick goodbye to Li Ai, and left. Zhao Xiaorou, suppressing her frustration, left to make a phone call but not before declaring, “I refuse to lose to her.”

Hu Xiu sighed. What more could she say? The struggle between love rivals was always fierce, even in eye contact. On the laptop screen was a photo of REGARD taken by Diao Zhiyu, with a blurred background showing Li Ai smoking outside the shop—an image anyone with eyes could understand. Sighing again, Hu Xiu lamented how Li Ai, despite the many women around him, was steadfastly focused on his lawsuit for his late wife and even refused to treat his injured leg. Such devotion was almost ridiculous.

Li Ai brought over a slice of cake. Hu Xiu asked, “That woman... has she been coming around often?”

“We met in a mutual aid group for legal cases. She’s fighting a lawsuit too and has been feeling down, so she comes here sometimes.”

“Oh?”

Li Ai leaned down, resting on the table with his hands, his voice dropping to a low volume. “I don’t know all the details, but it seems she and her husband worked together to buy a school district house for their son. But because of ‘five types and twelve categories,’ their kid was forcibly reassigned to a subpar school. Recently, she’s been protesting at the education bureau, filing complaints in court, running all over the place. She and her husband fight constantly now, and she comes here to escape.”

Hu Xiu, surprised by the backstory, glanced at Zhao Xiaorou, who was outside arguing dramatically on the phone. Clicking her tongue, she remarked, “Li Ai, Zhao Xiaorou broke up with her murder mystery boyfriend, by the way.”

Li Ai didn’t seem shocked. “How did they break up?”

“She said... their souls weren’t compatible.”

Li Ai just chuckled. “Sounds like a reason she’d give.”

“They broke up so cleanly, I think it’s because her heart’s set on you.”

Li Ai froze momentarily as he cleaned a coffee cup. Before he could respond, he was interrupted by Hu Xiu’s timely diversion: “Oh, your murder mystery boyfriend is here.”

Just as she said that, Diao Zhiyu walked in the door with a big backpack, arriving just in time to catch the words “murder mystery boyfriend.” He raised an eyebrow. “So you’re going around declaring I’m your boyfriend after marrying me?”

“Married?” Li Ai, stunned, glanced over.

“This person was outrageous today—went to a murder mystery game and married me,” Diao Zhiyu explained.

“Oh.” Li Ai turned back to his cup. “That’s a bit disappointing.”

Hu Xiu had gotten used to Diao Zhiyu’s antics by now. “Marrying you is outrageous? Do you want me to file a complaint with Snowpiercer?”

“You wouldn’t dare. Where’s the marriage certificate?”

“Left it on Snowpiercer.”

Diao Zhiyu was incredulous. “You didn’t even keep it? Plenty of players would treasure something like that.”

“It’s not real. I just went to relax after work,” Hu Xiu lied. The certificate was actually in her bag, and she’d scrutinized every stroke of Diao Zhiyu’s handwriting until it blurred, but she wasn’t about to let him know that—no way was she inflating his ego.

Diao Zhiyu, surprisingly, seemed a little let down. “So you didn’t come just to marry me?”

If it had been when she first met Qin Xiaoyi, she would have earnestly reassured him. But seeing Diao Zhiyu’s expectant expression now, she suddenly felt like teasing him. “Sorry—no.”

Diao Zhiyu went silent. No matter how Hu Xiu tried to catch his attention, he ignored her, burying himself in his laptop and chatting with Zhao Xiaorou about murder mystery games. Zhao Xiaorou, who had been pondering her next business move with the money she’d earned, lit up at the discussion. As they talked about location scouting, renting spaces, decorating, and hiring actors, Zhao Xiaorou’s eyes sparkled. “Diao Zhiyu, I’ll remember this. Let’s properly plan something next spring. I’ve always seen big potential in your interactive NPC gigs—good looks, decent acting, no need for Oscar-level performances. Just having a service-oriented mindset brings in female players ready to throw money at you.”

Diao Zhiyu suddenly grew serious. “We’re actors with dreams of theater, not just NPCs. Being an NPC is a profession, but we prefer to be called performers. If you see us as creators of dreams, we’re willing. But if we’re merely treated as playthings or glorified escorts, then forget it—I don’t want this industry reduced to a shallow money-making scheme.”

“Brother, I understand your theater dreams, but the fact that you’re in this profession without pursuing actual theater shows you’re also drawn to the fact that it’s lucrative. High salary, generous tips—so just embrace that it’s a hot commodity. Don’t make money and then turn around to criticize it. Be straightforward.” Zhao Xiaorou’s tone grew more pragmatic. “It’s like me taking on ads for the money. Let’s not beat around the bush—truly ‘clean’ people can’t make as much money as I do. You have to accept that those who benefit are essentially hypocritical. If you can’t let go of your pride, you won’t succeed.”

“Idealism and reality aren’t so easy to separate. You have to understand that many people in this world feel sympathy for what they dislike, while being unable to maintain purity for what they genuinely love—drawing such clear lines is irresponsible.”

“Then what are you being so awkward about?” Zhao Xiaorou chuckled. “Has anyone denied your dream?”

“Nothing. I’m leaving now.” Diao Zhiyu grabbed his bag without saying more. Hu Xiu, observing silently from the side, didn’t make a sound. Once the shop was left with only the three of them, Zhao Xiaorou sighed. “If Ning Zechen had half his brains, I wouldn’t have grown to resent him. Hu Xiu may not have the best luck, but her taste in men is solid. The guys she picks all have something going for them. But someone tell me—what is he angry about?”

Li Ai pointed at Hu Xiu. “Ask her.”

Zhao Xiaorou tilted her head to look at Hu Xiu, who spread her hands. “I went to Snowpiercer and ‘married’ him in that wealthy-lady role-playing session, officially became his ‘wife’ for a bit. He texted me saying I was uncultured and unworthy of being his wife, so I joked that I threw away the marriage certificate.”

This made Zhao Xiaorou burst into laughter. “That’s it?”

Hu Xiu felt wronged. So, he could tease her, but she couldn’t poke fun at him? He’d clearly joked about her lack of refinement, saying she didn’t qualify to be a “warlord’s wife,” yet now he was upset because she said she tossed the marriage certificate? This inexplicable push-and-pull possessiveness made Hu Xiu both happy and frustrated. Diao Zhiyu cared more about players who liked him than she expected, but considering how many “brides” he’d had, she was likely just one of many admirers with ulterior motives.

Climbing the old, dim staircase, the damp air mixed with dust filled her lungs. Hu Xiu thought to herself, Your wish, Diao Zhiyu, is to gain as much love as possible. But I also wish that marriage certificate were your exclusive promise to me.

It was a paradox.

She turned on an outdated TV—its fabric cover, untouched like a bride’s wedding veil, had gathered dust. The channels were lackluster, switching from financial news to home shopping. Finally, she landed on a teen romance drama. The youthful male lead, exuding a boyish charm, stared earnestly at the female lead and shouted, “Do you love me or the idea of me?”

The line startled her.

Diao Zhiyu struggled to separate himself from his roles, and perhaps she hadn’t really seen him outside of them either. On Snowpiercer, she saw Qin Xiaoyi, Li Rong, and Feng Youjin—all characters she liked—but only as “roles.” Perhaps she’d never genuinely looked at Diao Zhiyu beyond the mask of his characters. She once adored Qin Xiaoyi as a projection of her own dreams. As part of Snowpiercer’s fantasy, Qin Xiaoyi offered her a dazzling illusion; Li Rong, cunning and sly, greedy for both money and pleasure, was utterly untrustworthy; Feng Youjin was domineering and crass, overly concerned with her “lack of refinement”… Every time Diao Zhiyu finished playing a role, he struggled to step out of it. But beneath those layers, he was still a man—only 22 years old, yet with enough life experiences to make him mature. His sensitive possessiveness was no less intense than that of older, more experienced men.

The TV suddenly began to glitch, randomly flipping through channels. The remote refused to work properly. Frustrated, Hu Xiu tried to switch it back to the romance drama, hoping to see something in the young actor’s expression. Immersive theater, live-action roleplay, fandom—whether it was distant stars or nearby lights, the thrill they brought her was real. And now, the actors from immersive theater were no longer distant; they’d entered her life. To him, she wasn’t meaningless.

Maybe it wasn’t entirely unreasonable for her to show some possessiveness.

Just as that thought crossed her mind, her phone rang. It was a voice call from Diao Zhiyu, sounding urgent. “Hu Xiu, come downstairs. I’m outside your building.”

“Huh?”

“I need to ask you something. If you don’t come down, I’ll come up.”

Hu Xiu’s heart pounded. “What is it…?”

“You got married and then denied it—that’s dishonest. Anyway, come downstairs now. I’m counting to three. If you don’t answer, I’ll come up.”