Chapter 17

Gu Yi created a document for herself with tips:

1. Use indirect hints to probe Liang Daiwen’s past, the ultimate goal is to get him to express his feelings and fall for her—don’t forget to treat it accordingly;

2. The conversation should be natural, don’t be nervous. He may not express it, but he’s not bad at reading comprehension. If he realizes his feelings, it’ll likely be the end of the show;

3. When dealing with men, use a man’s methods.

So what is a man’s method?

While staring blankly at her computer, she received two messages. The first was from Yu Dule, saying he invited Guan Xingxin to Disneyland this weekend, but she replied she was busy. The second was from Guan Xingxin, asking Gu Yi if she wanted to come over for tea this weekend. After reading the messages, Gu Yi felt sympathy for Yu Dule. It was clear that Guan Xingxin wasn’t interested in him much. Although Yu Dule was a cute guy, chasing after Guan Xingxin was like a small internet celebrity chasing after a big star.

And for Gu Yi, wasn’t it the same with Liang Daiwen? To cross the beauty barrier and chase after an impossible person, both she and Yu Dule were on the starting line, facing various obstacles. At the sound of the gunshot, everyone would show their abilities.

She suddenly realized: Liang Daiwen and Guan Xingxin were two towering mountains of beauty in the psychological clinic. When it came to love, it didn’t work out, like a joke. She and Yu Dule were both stand-up comedians, mere mortals, and when it came to falling for two ethereal people, even jokes weren’t as good.

At this point, discussing the obstacles with other contestants didn’t make sense. With this realization, she walked into the office and accidentally tossed her tips onto the wall, where the whole office could see them. Jacqueline looked up as she switched the page, asking calmly, “Is this a new topic?”

“Yes, the laws of love between urban men and women...”

“Then submit a proposal for me next week, make it more interesting, and distinguish it from the usual emotional self-help stuff.”

Gu Yi sighed inwardly, reluctantly accepting her task.

Yu Dule was an optimistic and thick-skinned boy, full of endless experiences, and she didn’t need to worry about him. On the other hand, she kept thinking about “a man’s method.” Could it really be like Yu Dule said? She should wear a sexy nightgown, expose her shoulders a bit, maybe tie her hair behind her ear, and be a pure and cute quail?

Too vulgar—she wanted to be a thoughtful woman!

She prepared the first treatment for Liang Daiwen, calling it “understanding the condition,” but in reality, it was to know herself and the other person. She found that the psychological doctor had a Toronto Emotional Disorder Scale, specifically designed to test the score for emotional disorders. Since Liang Daiwen had emotional issues, using this scale didn’t make sense. She wasn’t a psychologist. So, she... downloaded the Proust Questionnaire and planned to have him fill it out seriously. The Proust Questionnaire is often used in interviews with celebrities in Vanity Fair, focusing on the interviewee’s life, thoughts, values, and life experiences. At least she could gather some of Liang Daiwen’s thoughts and past.

The form returned made Gu Yi stare silently at the computer for three seconds before quickly placing an order online—shoulder-baring nightgown, lace stockings, the invisible killer Chanel 1957, oversized T-shirt with a disappearing bottom, and a print of a long-legged embroidered beauty with the words “Passionate Beauty Massage, adults only.”

After placing the order, she took her time to carefully study the survey—this questionnaire’s answers lacked any heartfelt communication, immediately stirring her desire to embrace her femininity.

—What talent would you most like to have?

To know what others are thinking so I can empathize more in my work.

—What is your biggest fear?

Nothing.

—How are you feeling right now?

Calm, this questionnaire is too long.

—What is the trait you most dislike about yourself?

Indifference to everything.

—What part of your appearance do you dislike the most?

Too handsome.

—What is your most prized possession?

My talent.

The responses were succinct to the point of being unhelpful. Gu Yi quickly extracted some insights from a few questions—Liang Daiwen might not express emotions well, but at least there was one thing clear: narcissism. Moving on, she found more information:

—What do you regret the most?

I shouldn’t have gotten into a relationship. I hurt someone’s heart.

—What quality do you most admire in men?

Resilience, decisiveness, not overanalyzing oneself.

—What is the word or phrase you use the most?

Responsibility, responsible.

Gu Yi studied the answers seriously and felt that Liang Daiwen wasn’t as emotionally distant as she seemed; there was a bit of humor in her responses, possibly a lingering attachment to her previous relationship, and—she didn’t want to reveal too much about the past.

When Gu Yi returned home, she found Liang Daiwen drawing in the study. There were two screens on the desk: one showing the rendering of an alias and product demands from Xmind, and the other displaying a perspective drawing she couldn’t understand. On the desk lay a set of blueprints—it looked like a chair. The colored sketch featured dark rosewood, not extravagant but with a refined tone, and the drafts included many floor plans and home usage flowcharts, densely scribbled with notes.

This piqued Gu Yi’s curiosity. She asked from behind, “Is this what you work on?”

“Yeah.”

“The name tag I saw last time was... product designer?”

“Universal design. For the past year or so, I’ve mainly been working on home and smart products for people with disabilities.”

“Didn’t expect my roommate to be an artist.”

“Not really. An artist’s creation is often an emotional act, reliant on feelings and talent, while we don’t do that. In university, we also had art courses, but more focused on human-centered design around products, with standards to follow. I don’t think of myself as an artist. Real artists are rare; most people are just copying the details.”

Liang Daiwen finally remembered to mock her: “Are you flattering me seriously because you want something?”

...Isn’t living under someone else’s roof enough?

Liang Daiwen didn’t keep her work confined to the studio but brought it home, which could be seen as engaging with her. But the person herself showed no reaction, sitting at the dining table and saying, “So you’re treating me, and you give me a Proust questionnaire?”

“This is to understand the patient’s situation. Your answers were so hasty, the information is minimal, and I can’t prescribe anything.”

“Then it’s your method that’s lacking. Don’t really think of yourself as a psychologist, trying to challenge people’s professional fields with hobbies and unclear intentions. It’s a bit childish in my view.”

Annoyed, Gu Yi bent down to search for the rice barrel and then wanted to fry an egg, but the gas was broken. The water dispenser’s plug was pulled out, replaced by various electronic products—voice-controlled speakers, a voice-controlled floor lamp, and an old-fashioned record player she hadn’t used in a long time...

Living here for a while, she realized this place had no warmth, just problems and obstacles to solve. Liang Daiwen spoke from behind, “I’ve ordered pasta and three salads. It’ll be here in about 20 minutes.” Gu Yi had had enough of such cold fast food, still searching for a kettle. “Do you know why your heart is always calm? Always eating plants will turn you into a vegetable.”

The sudden silence in the air terrified Gu Yi as she spun around in the kitchen, feeling awkward. Was it because Liang Daiwen noticed her subtle signs of liking? But Liang Daiwen had an emotional disorder, so why was she also awkward? Did this robot feel unexplainable emotions too?

She shook her head and glanced at herself in the fridge mirror. Her blurry reflection made her look like she did on the ounce stage—unadorned, very casual, like a rapper. Sitting across from Liang Daiwen, she said, “So, I’ve made a series of plans for you. As a patient, you must fully cooperate.”

“What plans?”

“Delete all your Korean dramas and follow my pace. Those imports are meaningless. Aren’t you disgusted by unoriginal things? For every script I write on ounce, you should get tickets to watch everything you think might make you laugh and report them back to me. Try physical contact, because emotions always start from touch. Do a heart-rate challenge with me. Also, break your psychological limits—go on a rollercoaster, jump on a free-fall ride, play real-life CS, and explore the scariest escape rooms and murder mystery games.”

Liang Daiwen’s expression remained blank, which made Gu Yi feel a bit discouraged—was this an agreement or a refusal? She steeled herself and said, “If you think it’s okay, please give me a smile to show your agreement. I need to take a picture for a record. After a treatment course, I’ll take another one and compare.”

Liang Daiwen pulled up the corners of her mouth in a grim smile, making Gu Yi shrink back a bit—was this trying to scare her off? Holding back her shock in front of the camera, Gu Yi said, “You know, when you fake a smile, each of your facial features has its own thoughts.”

“Well then, what should I do? In an office setting, I inevitably have to interact with people.”

Gu Yi stood up, extended two fingers, and placed them at Liang Daiwen’s mouth corners, gently applying a little pressure. “Do you understand this feeling? This is a real smile.”

The fingers stopped for just two seconds when Liang Daiwen suddenly took two steps back: “I’m going to make a phone call.”

Gu Yi didn’t understand why Liang Daiwen suddenly stepped back. This series of rejecting actions made her feel a little defeated—why, after saying she’d stay for another month, did the usually indifferent Liang Daiwen start avoiding her?

She turned her head and saw the bag of dog food that hadn’t been thrown away.

Yu Dule invited Guan Xingxin to meet at Xiao Fang Ting on Changshou Road. Guan Xingxin was wearing a white coat and a floral skirt, with brown flat boots, looking fragile and weak, with a gentle yet somewhat evasive gaze, as if she had just recovered from a serious illness. Yu Dule walked behind her into the restaurant, sitting down and handing her a bunch of pale blue cornflowers: “I thought about what you said, and this bouquet seems to suit you the best.”

“Is there a story behind this?”

“There is a legend about the cornflower. In ancient times, a hero named Arminius became blind. One night, the god of war appeared in his dream and told him that the blue flowers by the roadside at dawn would cure his eyes. He found the cornflower and applied it to his eyes, and soon his vision was restored. He named the cornflower the ‘Protector of Eyes’.” After saying this, Yu Dule looked at Guan Xingxin, who was staring at her: “Is that a bit... old-fashioned?”

“No. Before I was five, I was blind. My mother often told me that the sea and the sky were both vast and blue, so in my mind, the world was mostly black. After I could see the world, so many things changed my understanding. Blue was the color I couldn’t comprehend. Now you’re giving me blue flowers, which is a little different from what I imagined... I always thought flowers were in warm colors—red, yellow...”

“When I first met you, my impression was blue. Maybe because it was raining that day. You appeared smiling, but there was always this coldness. I was sitting under the umbrella in the yard, and the rain hit my face with the wind. I thought maybe God was reminding me that you were different from others.”

Guan Xingxin didn’t speak. The cornflowers in the wrapping paper still had water droplets. Yu Dule’s voice trembled a little: “The cornflower also has a flower language—it’s about meeting—hoping to see the person you want to see every day, and wishing her... always live in the light.”

The molten lava cake and tiramisu were placed on the table. Yu Dule took a camera out of his bag: “The antique shop next door is a place where they filmed dramas. After we finish eating, I’ll take you there to play.”

Fontaine Antique Shop had a green sign, with a white rocking horse and a red food cart outside. There were baby clothes, metal floral stools, and colorfully painted clowns without heads. The two of them walked in, and under the warm yellow lighting, the shop was filled with antiques, the vintage colors hitting their eyes, each one seemingly pricey. They could take photos freely inside. Yu Dule aimed the camera at Guan Xingxin and said with satisfaction, “My film roll is newly bought, and it’s perfect because you’re like a movie girl. I’m sure today’s photos will turn out great.”

Guan Xingxin stood next to a slot machine, her eyes no longer evasive, meeting Yu Dule’s camera directly. She was truly beautiful, so beautiful that Yu Dule’s hand trembled, and his forehead began to sweat. The shopkeeper was introducing a new find to a flirtatious couple—a British children’s stroller. He proudly mentioned that he had bought it for 2000 Euros from overseas and wouldn’t sell it to anyone without a “fated” connection, but it would look great next to the woman in the couple.

The greasy man with glasses and a beard made a joke to the shopkeeper, “Look at her Hera dress, doesn’t she look like she’s pregnant?”

The woman standing next to him, in a shapeless dress, smiled awkwardly. When Yu Dule turned around, he rolled his eyes, and Guan Xingxin scrunched her nose in displeasure. After the couple left, Yu Dule said, “Oh my God, this man looks like he’s been through a fire. With all the mirrors in this antique shop, how did no one point out what he really looks like?”

The shopkeeper heard and laughed like an opera singer. After taking the last photo, Yu Dule was changing the film roll and said, “This is probably the life I dream of.”

“Do you dream of opening an antique shop?” Guan Xingxin, sitting on the sofa, looked up at him.

“No, I want to open a shop that sells strange items—antiques, stories, childhood memories... It would only open in the afternoon and late at night. If you see something you want but can’t afford it, you can exchange it for your wish.”

In the middle of a bunch of antique dolls, Yu Dule blinked. Suddenly, Guan Xingxin’s eyes widened: “Ah, my cornflower—wait for me, I’ll be right back.”

“Just stay here, I’ll go,” Yu Dule said.

“No way. It’s your gift, I lost it first, I should go.” Guan Xingxin leaned close to Yu Dule’s ear and whispered, “You said you wanted to meet me every day, how could I just let your wish go to waste, right?”

Wearing the floral skirt, she ran out of the antique shop. Yu Dule saw the door to Xiao Fang Ting open and close, then turned around and pounded his chest. Although every word was sincere, the gesture felt forced—being up close with a perfect girl made his heart skip a beat.

Gu Yi, feeling a bit frustrated, went to find Guan Xingxin over the weekend. Actually, she was tasked by Lu Ming to deliver the revised script to her and also brought the cornflower Yu Dule bought. Guan Xingxin was seriously drawing eyes on a doll called “Wa,” a popular toy for young rich women. The paintbrush was as fine as a silver needle. After finishing both eyes, she leaned by the window and said, “You might not believe this, but this doll was bought by Lu Shu in Disney. He doesn’t have enough money for expensive gifts for industry insiders, so he asked me to modify one for him. His ex-wife posted a conversation with their daughter on Weibo, saying she wanted a doll, but her mother wasn’t willing to spoil her. She’s only six years old. Lu Shu immediately made one, but he doesn’t know when he’ll have a chance to meet her.”

This conversation was loaded with information. Lu Ming usually never talked about his family, only about diving and skiing, but knowing such personal details meant the relationship was more than just friendship. Especially when Guan Xingxin spoke of Lu Ming, her smile was small but her eyes gleamed with light.

The cornflower Yu Dule gave her was still on the table, with water droplets. After reading Liang Daiwen’s questionnaire, Guan Xingxin smiled: “Is this how you’re pursuing Liang Daiwen?”

“I’m just curious…”

“I’ve seen people giving flowers, treating for meals, and going to the movies, but I’ve never seen anyone doing a questionnaire. But it’s a bit more advanced than just checking star signs, I suppose.”

Gu Yi tried her best to forget about the whole matter with Lu Ming: “How did Yu Dule pursue you?”

“He told me that the audience calls him ‘ounce,’ the sexy little sweetie. He doesn’t really think so, but sometimes when he’s taking photos, he feels like a handsome guy who sets the mood.”

“...”

“It’s fine, it’s kind of cute, let him release his charm. Too many straight guys don’t know how to start a conversation, and he’s much more interesting. Not meeting him was just about enjoying the pleasure of chatting a bit more. Once you move to the next stage, men often don’t want to open up much anymore.”

“When a man talks about work, ideals, and small talk, he only sees you as a friend; but once a man starts talking about appearance, sexiness, or romantic matters, it usually signals ulterior motives. And once he gets what he wants, he immediately shuts down communication, focusing his energy on other conquests.” Gu Yi wanted to tell Guan Xingxin that Yu Dule wasn’t like that; he was a romantic machine, and once in love, it was never about ‘sweetest’ but always ‘sweeter.’ However, she didn’t say it out loud—love was a private relationship between two people. She couldn’t help but lament how nice it was to experience normal flirtation. With Liang Daiwen, not only was there no real conversation, but even physical contact was awkward—she’d already accidentally brushed against his chest at the bedroom door, yet he had no reaction at all.

“So you want to know about Liang Daiwen’s ex-girlfriend?”

“Yeah…”

“I don’t know much, but I heard she was very beautiful, a model. They raised a dog together. They picked out a small, weak Labrador with poor immunity and did heart surgery, spending three thousand yuan. The girlfriend once said they were both so independent, and that a dog, needing attention, lacked ambition. It was hard to separate when they were so stuck together. But eventually, she couldn’t stand Liang Daiwen’s lack of emotional reciprocation, and she met a new designer with a great opportunity to model abroad. So they broke up, and the dog, which they had promised to keep together, was left with Liang Daiwen. Dr. Shen suggested sending it to a family better suited for it.” Guan Xingxin looked at Gu Yi. “Why do you want to know this? Isn’t it like digging a knife into your own heart?”

A model, huh…

Gu Yi looked at herself in the glass window. She’d never cared much for her appearance. Beautiful girls were often intimidating, and humor worked better for connecting with people. When she wore a dress and pretended to be innocent, people would mistake her for Xu Ruoxuan from “The Laughing Scholar.” So she wasn’t ugly? But compared to a model’s high-end face and perfect figure—”It’s no contest. I like Liang Daiwen, but I’m not trying to become some substitute. Who cares if she’s a model? I’m definitely not going to lose weight to fit a size zero…”

“Don’t worry, he’s not interested in anyone emotionally.”

“I won’t change for anyone. If they’re chasing me, they should want me as I am.” Always bursting with confidence, her heart sank when faced with an imaginary rival.

“This is totally wrong. Buyers and sellers have different needs, so there’s a trade-off.”

Guan Xingxin suddenly stood directly in front of her, carefully studying her. Her fingers casually swept through her hair, gathering it at the back of her head, and Gu Yi’s heart thumped uncontrollably at the proximity. Guan Xingxin continued to focus, “Shirt tucked into the trousers but not neat, loses points; messy bangs covering a good forehead, wasted; accessories chosen wrongly, ruins the vibe, unqualified, unqualified…”

Gu Yi’s eyes widened as Guan Xingxin casually adjusted her shirt, unbuttoning it and redoing the buttons loosely, tying her hair into a messy bun, leaving stray strands around her neck and ears. She added a silk scarf to her chest, using a ring to secure it into a bow, tucked crookedly into her windbreaker pocket. Finally, Guan Xingxin picked up a bouquet of cornflowers and placed them in her arms. “That’s more like it.”

She stepped aside, and Gu Yi saw herself in the mirror—delicate and ambiguous. The flowers blended into the night, shyly. Guan Xingxin crossed her arms, smiling. “Cinderella’s glass slipper, the eldest and second sisters couldn’t fit it, only then was it her turn. But why does it always fall off? It must be intentional to lure the prince. So, at least leave some traces for the prince to know you’re waiting for him. Don’t tell Yu Dule I handed his gift to you.”

Heart pounding, Gu Yi ran out in a hurry.