Chapter 61

My nose is worth a hundred thousand, my eyes thirty-five thousand, filling twelve thousand—what does “520” mean? Am I just leftovers from someone else’s spa treatment?

Zhao Xiaorou really did go back for a second round, all because of something Diao Zhiyu said—

These days, drama school boys’ favorite part-time job was being in murder mystery games. The pay was higher than acting gigs, popularity was real, and they even got gifts. Some had stopped seeing these games as just a temporary way to make money. Entering the entertainment industry was hard and risky; immersive theater was more reliable. With high popularity, they could earn a good annual salary.

So Zhao Xiaorou used the dim lighting of the escape room to her advantage. She successfully waited until KinKi Kuniishi was lying in the morgue. She slipped him a note promising a 30% raise if he’d consider working at her escape room.

Though Zhao Xiaorou was brave, she was also very thoughtful. She didn’t offer double the hourly rate. As she put it:

“Men won’t feel grateful for special treatment, they’ll only think they’re irresistible.”

“Telling them they have many flaws but lots of potential is enough. For young employees, don’t give them money—just give them Shenzhen specialties.”

“Shenzhen specialties?”

“A pie in the sky.”

Ever since her breakup with Gong Huailong, it seemed like there were more people around her who wanted to put her down. It felt as if anyone could attack her.

At first, she didn’t pay much attention. She ignored comments online. But then these attacks started happening in real life, and she found herself having to defend herself again and again.

Four friends went on a road trip to check out escape rooms. Zhao Xiaorou was joking around in the back seat when she read a message that made her scowl. She picked up her phone and left a voice reply:

“Take your money back. I don’t need your sympathy. My nose cost 100,000 yuan, my eyes another 35,000, and the fillers added up to 120,000. What does ‘520’ mean anyway? Is this some leftover from a water-lightning treatment?”

People who couldn’t recognize Zhao Xiaorou might be less hostile, but they still extended olive branches of admiration towards her pretty face.

One night after dinner with clients at a restaurant, she stopped by a bar for a drink. A man from the next table suddenly came over and said:

“I’ll keep you as my mistress.”

This was just asking for trouble.

“You? How much do you make in a month?”

“Three hundred thousand a year.”

“Oh...” Zhao Xiaorou held back a laugh, trying not to be too harsh. “I made five hundred thousand this month alone. You think you can afford me?”

Talk about bold...

Only at REGARD did she truly find her peace. She’d help Li Ai handwrite menus, doodling wobbly patterns with a black pen before listing coffee names in both Chinese and English.

The coffee names she chose were all girlish, just like her face. A black sugar soe with cinnamon became “Black Sugar Girl, Real Spicy”; hot mulled wine paired with South American beans turned into “Mulled Wine-Loving Peruvian Gentleman”; earl grey Canadiano got an affected British accent, becoming “Dr. Louis Turns White”; and an egg nog latte was simply “Tipsy Egg Nog Knight”.

Add to that osmanthus lemon pound cake, Afghani desserts, British scones, and more—a whole page of handwritten items took up most of the afternoon.

She sat in a corner without speaking much. With pen in hand, she’d draw a few lines, then step outside to bask in the sun for a moment, as if recharging.

Li Ai didn’t approach her either, as if giving her space to relax. He chatted with customers, played guitar, and occasionally glanced at Zhao Xiaorou kicking leaves outside, standing still amidst the passing crowd.

His phone screen kept flashing, and vibrations sent his pen flying from paper to table. Li Ai quietly walked over to steady it, then looked at the half-finished menu with a soft smile—it seemed they shared a silent understanding.

This was the afternoon view Hu Xiu could see from her bar stool: something blank and boring floating between the air and shadows.

It was a rare luxury for them, since they were always busy to the point of burnout, every spare moment snatched like stolen time.

The three of them enjoyed their own peace in the same space. Li Ai seemed to have a natural calming presence that made others feel more relaxed when near him.

Hu Xiu felt anxious too right now—Diao Zhiyu was auditioning at a suburban location. He’d sent her a message before leaving this morning saying he felt nervous. The story took place in a small town in the southwest, against the backdrop of a murder case, where the victim’s daughter rediscovers herself. He had landed a role as a young man from the town—a character with both explosive anger and stubbornness—who commits suicide out of fear of being accused of attacking a police officer. It certainly suited him, but Hu Xiu was still very worried—

That feeling of heartbreak Qin Xiaoyi experienced after scattering roses under the lights while gazing at Rongcheng’s giant iron gate quietly resurfaced.

She tried to comfort herself by thinking that since his boyfriend was an actor, she needed to accept this reality. He would always be standing in the spotlight, the center of attention, and couldn’t stay hidden in darkness just for someone else alone.

The door opened, and Zhao Xiaorou stepped inside. Hu Xiu looked up briefly before lowering her gaze again, feeling a bit disappointed.

The translation materials in her hands were the only thing she could really focus on right now. Tomorrow was the big meeting.

She heard that Boston University would be streaming the event live this time. Even though it wasn’t directly related to her field, Pei Zhen might notice her if he paid attention.

Looking at the unfamiliar content spread out in front of her, Hu Xiu felt somewhat bored. Most of what she translated wouldn’t stay in her head for long since it wasn’t part of her expertise—it’d just be like memorizing lines for an actor.

Translating at the hospital didn’t make you a famous doctor. You were just a tool moved around wherever needed. The only positions available were always administrative roles, and even finishing a medical PhD seemed impossible—everything was just a facade.

While most things in life were empty facades, she didn’t want to feel like just another puzzle piece fitting into society.

This probably wasn’t the kind of life she wanted.

Her dad sent a text message: “Tingting, do you have time for dinner tonight?”

Can’t let him mess with my state tomorrow. After a moment’s thought, she replied: “No thanks. I’ve got the conference tomorrow. Is there something important?”

“Xiao Pei went to America. Have you been in touch with him?”

“No...”

The phone call came through direct and forceful:

“How come you didn’t stay in touch with him? Men like Dr. Pei are hard to find even if you search high and low. Are you out of your mind?”

“Why... should I have stayed in touch?” Hu Xiu asked.

“It’s been three months! Relationships need nurturing. What if he met someone else while he was in the States for those three months?

Proximity makes things happen—you know that’s how he fell for you back then. Don’t tell me you think your average looks at the hospital caught his eye for no reason.”

Hu Xiu didn’t argue. Instead, she patiently pressed on: “How is it that a man like Pei Zhen couldn’t find anyone better?”

“Do I really need to explain? How many young and talented associate professors are there at the hospital? He went to the US for an exchange program at just thirty-two, with such high research standards. Any woman would be lucky to marry him—grab the opportunity before it slips away.

That guy who dumped you years ago had far less to offer than this one. Even the manager of a credit card center thought you weren’t good enough. Shouldn’t you know by now what you’re worth in the dating market?”

Seeing Hu Xiu’s silence, he seemed to gain more momentum:

“Remember that Xiao Qian I introduced you to earlier? They’re almost having a child now. Guess what—he picked another Shanghai woman, one with a car and a house. She’s handling pregnancy without any complaints. Still, they both agree you’re not quite up to their standards and lack manners.”

I should have let you run free when you were young. Learning piano or dance was useless; your ambition didn’t match your talent. All you wanted was to date handsome guys. Do you even care about anything else?

Hu Xiu stood outside the shop. Next door, a two-meter-tall Christmas tree sat in front of a designer clothing store, wrapped in fluorescent orange chains that glowed brightly.

The voice on the phone kept asking:

“Talk already! What do you think?! Who gave you the right to talk back?”

She took a deep breath, knowing she couldn’t stutter now.

“Shanghai is full of beautiful and talented girls. Any student I teach now has more natural ability than you ever did.”

“What are you so proud of? You’re still hanging around that no-name actor like some flightless bird!”

“No matter how good Pei Zhen is, he’s just another man. He’s not worth my time. I have work, ideas, and plans—I never let him into my life. Just because he flies while I run doesn’t mean he’s better than me.

“That Qian Jinxin guy is nothing but a gold-digger. With his lack of skills and obsession with money, it’s no wonder he picked a Shanghai woman. He called me an immoral wife—why should I listen to him?

“My ex-boyfriend left me because you chased away Mom, not because of anything I did. Your petty jealousy and grudge-holding for ten years—it’s pathetic. And you dare to be smug enough to oppress me and Mom over this? You are the shame of our family.”

Take care of your teacher, Dad. After all, I’m not even as important as she is in your eyes. If there were a class on how to be a decent man, you’d probably be the first one who should take it.

This will be the last time I answer your call. I can’t repay you for raising me, and I can’t live up to your expectations. If you really want to show some fatherly love, why don’t you go to America after the teacher passes away and look after her son instead?

After hanging up, the phone vibrated non-stop. When Zhao Xiaorou walked in, he clapped at her. “Hu-laoshi, that was amazing.”

“I’ve been holding back for too long...” Her hand was still shaking.

“You needed to let it out ages ago. Don’t you think?” Zhao Xiaorou looked at Li Ai. Li Ai smiled and ground some coffee beans. “I never thought Hu-laoshi would have a day like this.”

Hu Xiu’s shock had just settled when she felt even more heartbroken. The vibrations from her cell seemed to reach her heart. It had been so long since she’d seen her mom.

After being kicked out by their dad, Mom hadn’t contacted her for two whole years. She didn’t know where Mom had moved or who she was with, if she was doing well now, or if she ever thought about her. There was no way to find out.

Dad’s questions bombarded the screen:

How could you talk to your father like that?

Did that little actor teach you bad manners? Show some respect! I’m still your dad!

“Hu Xiu, I’m warning you. Answer my call within three minutes or don’t blame me for showing up at your office.”

Hu Xiu responded coldly, “Are you planning to trash my office? Go ahead. Worst comes to worst, I’ll quit. It’s just an administrative job anyway.”

“No way! This is the most stable position you can find! Pick up the phone!”

After half an hour, Hu Xiu finally replied, “Send me Mom’s current address. You must know where she is since it was your mistake.”

“She’s a whore!” he snapped.

She didn’t reply immediately. After fifteen minutes, the address arrived. Hu Xiu’s face darkened. Her mom had moved to a city with cheaper housing, hiding away in a place Hu Xiu couldn’t easily find. Memories of her mother were hazy and chaotic, leaving only fragmented scenes: adjusting an old sewing machine in the fading sunlight, cutting vibrant fabrics for cheongsams, leaning against the balcony railing while smoking.

Dad’s messages kept coming. Hu Xiu blocked him, not wanting to deal with him anymore. This method worked well—at least for now. She wouldn’t let his messages affect her mood, letting anger simmer and grow as he wallowed in neglect and self-doubt. That’s probably how PUA tactics work, she thought.

She felt uneasy inside. Distractedly, she flipped through a few pages of her notes before closing them again. Her writing was messy and disorganized. Glancing at the calendar, she saw there were only ten days left until New Year’s Day. If Mom was alone up north, would she miss me?

“Diao Zhiyu’s audition took forever,” Zhao Xiaorou said, checking her watch. “Can we still make it for dinner together before heading to the escape room? I wanted to hear his story for my next vlog.”

Just as she finished speaking, Diao Zhiyu pushed open the door with a greeting. It wasn’t cold in Shanghai this February; he entered panting heavily, likely rushing back from REGARD.

The group sat in the restaurant, dishes arriving one after another. Diao Zhiyu didn’t mention his audition, focusing on eating like someone trying to avoid trouble. Zhao Xiaorou leaned her head almost onto the table. “Diao Zhiyu, not passing an audition isn’t something to be ashamed of. Just say something already.”

“I got the news on my way back—I passed.”

An incredulous expression crossed Zhao Xiaorou’s face. “Damn, why so mysterious?”

Hu Xiu remained outwardly calm, silently pouring herself some orange juice and drinking without comment. Under Zhao Xiaorou’s persistent stare, Diao Zhiyu finally spoke when his bowl was empty. “The director is quite famous these days for making artsy films. The producer seemed less friendly though. Some actors before me acted all humble, saying they’re eager to learn and willing to follow directions. But when the producer banged his fist on the table, things got nasty. He practically said, ‘This big production isn’t just about your learning experience.’“

“What did you say?”

“They wanted me to join the production team first and then adjust my role later. I said if it wasn’t this specific part, forget it. There’s nothing else in the script that suits me anyway.”

“Wow! So you’re set as the main actor now?”

“Not entirely sure. As new as can be, they might even replace me before filming starts and editing is done.”

Despite his words, the corners of his mouth curved slightly upward, hiding his excitement at being chosen.

Li Ai tapped their glasses together. “Sounds like you still got the role. Maybe your personality convinced the director—you’ve got the charisma for a lead.”

“He’ll make it big, for sure. With such a clean, aloof face—those eyes are gorgeous too—it’d be hard not to get noticed by girls. Out of all those students at the theater school every year, there probably aren’t more than ten like Diao Zhiyu. If he signed with an agency and started acting in idol dramas, he’d definitely land top billing.”

“Nah, not really interested. I don’t play well with rules or sugar-coated melodramas. It’s just boring puppet shows.”

Diao Zhiyu turned to Hu Xiu. “We have a meeting tomorrow. Should we skip the escape room tonight?”

“It’s okay, I’m not tired.” Her heart was in a mess, so it’s better to change the mood.

Diao Zhiyu cupped her face and looked at her carefully, pinching it and then letting go: “You have something on your mind, you should tell me.”

As she picked up the chopsticks that had fallen on the floor, Zhao Xiaorou pointed at the next table and shouted: “You, if you want to take a picture of me, just do it openly. Why sneak around and point fingers? I dare to do it, and I’m not afraid to admit it. What kind of man are you, talking bad about me behind my back?”

Her shout was heard by everyone around. Zhao Xiaorou hadn’t finished venting her anger yet: “No matter who you gossip with, just take a picture of me alone, don’t involve my friends. I remember your face. If you talk nonsense with my friend’s photo, I’ll sue you for invasion of privacy.”

Li Ai held her hand, signaling her to calm down: “It’s no big deal, don’t take it to heart.”

She stared for a long time before finally looking away, and her voice finally returned to a normal decibel: “I just can’t stand it. Why is there not enough gossip online, and now I have to be made fun of in real life? Are people’s boundaries so blurred?”

“Forget it, forget it. Since you’re all here today, I have something to say too.”

Hu Xiu looked at Li Ai, and she seemed to be looking forward to hearing Zhao Xiaorou’s reaction after the reconciliation. Li Ai cleared his throat: “About the lawsuit before, I...”

Zhao Xiaorou and Diao Zhiyu’s phones rang at the same time. The two of them answered their phones, their expressions changing from cloudy to sunny.

After hanging up the phone, Zhao Xiaorou said, the location for the escape room has been decided, I won’t go home for the New Year, I’ll rush to renovate.

Diao Zhiyu breathed a sigh of relief, a friend is coming to play the escape room with us, you should have met him.

“I’m okay with that.” Zhao Xiaorou was in a good mood: “What does Li Ai want to say?”

“Nothing much...” Li Ai smiled: “Let’s go to the escape room first.”

Taking the initiative to sit in the passenger seat, Zhao Xiaorou seemed to be in a good mood. She was getting better and better at digesting negative emotions.

Hu Xiu was in a low mood because of the continuous bad emotions, and Diao Zhiyu rubbed her head into his arms, making her want to cry.

Zhao Xiaorou asked curiously, Diao Zhiyu, what friend suddenly came to play the escape room with us, and said he had seen you?

“Last time, when you hadn’t divorced yet, at a gathering you organized, there was a couple with you. Later, his girlfriend married the male player Hu Xiu brought, and he added me on WeChat and often pestered me. He’s a bit of a confusing guy.”

“Which time? I haven’t divorced yet, so that’s... Wang Guangming’s gathering. Oh my god, Hu Xiu, the ex-girlfriend of the man we’re going to meet later is the one who married Qian Jinxin!”

As soon as the car stopped, a young man walked over, 1.75 meters tall with a shaved head, revealing a set of neat white teeth. He looked energetic, honest, and unremarkable, but he had a strange sense of eagerness: “Hello, we meet again, I’m Ma Liang.”