Chapter 31

Mr. “File Transfer Assistant”

The most outrageous part was that Liang Daiwen just left after dropping that remark. Gu Yi spent a long time thinking about it after returning home. This person just happened to pass by and see Xu Guanyue, leaving such a statement, enough to make people wonder whether he was waiting for the right moment to make a comeback.

Indeed, it was something Liang Daiwen could do—he was a master of time management, making sure not to waste a single minute in his day. So, he casually threw out a thought-provoking comment after an accidental encounter with her, without expending much effort.

Xu Guanyue had his arm around Gu Yi’s shoulder. If Liang Daiwen turned back now, he would see the woman he cared about being embraced by his rival. Xu Guanyue just said, “Shh. If you consider me a friend, don’t pull away. I’ll take care of him for you.”

“But...”

“After all the pain caused by him before, you can’t bear to let him be upset? Let me give you a piece of advice as a friend: an apology between lovers is not just about saying ‘sorry’—he needs to feel as bad as you do for it to count as an apology.”

Xu Guanyue liked to play pranks and was extremely clever. His way of softening the apology felt as natural as breathing, and Gu Yi found it almost instinctive in the way he treated people. Relying on Xu Guanyue to win a round against Liang Daiwen, Gu Yi couldn’t sleep from anxiety. The neighbor next door seemed to be singing karaoke all night, and the noise kept her awake. Her eyes were bloodshot as she sent a few jokes to the “File Transfer Assistant” and then found Xu Guanyue’s old columns, reading through his movie reviews and diaries until the sky brightened. His talent had been honed by listening to thousands of albums and writing reviews for music magazines. She always thought that the romance born from movies, books, and music was imaginary, the kind you could easily abandon, but having romance after enduring the harshness of life was like trying to run while wearing shackles. At this thought, she suddenly felt tired. Half-dreaming, she recalled Dr. Shen’s words: “Patients with emotional disorders have part of their body or soul destroyed, threatening their sense of completeness and identity. Humans will shut their hearts...”

She dreamt of Liang Daiwen in shackles. A man who had lost a piece of his hair and cut his arm was walking into the darkness. She shouted his name, shouting for a long time before he hesitated and turned back. But when he couldn’t see her, he turned around and left. The distance between them was too far, the sound too hard to carry. If she didn’t catch up, he would quickly fade into the dark...

When she woke up, she was facing the curtains. Sunlight poured in, and dust floated slowly in the air, like the sound of carbonated bubbles. A synesthetic metaphor flashed across her mind. She opened Liang Daiwen’s chat box, thinking of a new way to help him feel emotions. But when she opened the chat, she froze—she had sent the jokes to his chat box last night, one of which was: “Not being able to feel emotions is a form of harm. You need to feel as bad as I do for it to count as an apology.”

Something wasn’t right. She had clearly sent it to a green profile with a right-facing arrow, and though it was late, she wasn’t so tired as to confuse them. Besides, Liang Daiwen’s avatar was green, but there were many shades of green—how had they all been sent to him?

Confused and with no energy to waste, she started rearranging the layout at home. The bed, which was previously against the wall, was dragged to the center of the room, with the sofa backed against it, dividing the space into two. On the left side of the bed was the wardrobe, and on the right side was the shoe rack. She had taken apart a brand-new carpet. Across from the sofa were bookshelves and a desk, forming a small entertainment and office area. Standing in the doorway, sweating, she thought that now Liang Daiwen couldn’t criticize her for poor storage. She had divided her small 30-square-meter apartment into two sections: one for living and the other for work, a layout few would think of.

Then it hit her—Liang Daiwen’s living room was also divided by the sofa: one half for books and records, the other for dried flowers and expired dog food. The curtain separated the two, as if there were two worlds—Yin and Yang.

Her mind was full of Liang Daiwen’s image...

While she stood in place, Liang Daiwen sent an invitation in the group chat for a small, barrier-free design sharing session at his studio. Guan Xingxin replied first, asking, “Is this an event for everyone to attend?”

Liang Daiwen replied with a simple “Yes,” completely lacking enthusiasm. Gu Yi could almost imagine his face as he typed, expression flat as if he were talking about something unrelated to him. She replied in the chat, “What’s this? So cold, no sense of invitation.”

The back-and-forth continued until Liang Daiwen finally replied: “There are limited spots. Come early.”

Gu Yi had just finished sending a draft to Jacqueline before heading out. When she arrived at the studio, she was taken aback—at least twenty people were standing outside, blocking the narrow hallway. In addition to regular attendees, the woman who had been driven away in a Porsche was there, bringing several others dressed in expensive outfits—stiletto heels, bodycon dresses, layered black lace, snake-patterned hats, and dark green pants with black trench coats. None of them seemed to care about the temperature, and it was unclear if they were here for the event or just curious about the speaker.

Gu Yi, dressed in black, paused for a moment before pulling out a dark red lipstick from her bag and applying it quietly. When she looked up again, Liang Daiwen’s gaze was fixed on her, lingering a little too long.

Guan Xingxin squeezed to her side and asked, “Why are you so late? I told you to come earlier.”

“I thought it was just a casual get-together. Didn’t expect it to be a real event,” Gu Yi asked cautiously, “Do you know that woman in the red dress? I’ve seen her here before.”

“Ah, that’s Zhang Qingya, Liang Daiwen’s benefactor. When Liang Daiwen was in college, he participated in design exhibitions as a hobby, and his designs, which used Chinese elements but still fit the high-end market, caught her eye. She introduced him to luxury furniture designers. Now, Liang Daiwen’s designs are still being bought by her. She’s—well, a big supporter. I’m just joking. She admires him a lot but thinks he’s too headstrong and always tries to bring him back to the ‘right path.’ She doesn’t know that Liang Daiwen has an emotional disorder.”

Gu Yi remembered what Liang Daiwen had said, that he didn’t have inspiration for painting but kept it as basic training. It seemed he had been modest. She followed Guan Xingxin and Lu Ming to sit in the corner of the front row. Yu Dule took off his jacket and laid it over Guan Xingxin’s legs, sitting on the floor beside her. Gu Yi watched, and the love triangle between them became even more complicated. A mischievous girl in CDG clothes shouted by Liang Daiwen’s desk, “Ah, what’s this? Liang Daiwen, you have such a cute hobby!”

It was the Donald Duck headband that Gu Yi had given Liang Daiwen at Disneyland. The girl put it on her head. “Hey, it doesn’t suit you. How about giving it to me?”

“Put it down.” Liang Daiwen’s voice was unusually stern.

The girl didn’t realize the severity and coquettishly said, “Why so serious?”

“I told you not to touch it.”

His tone left no room for resistance. The CDG girl stuck out her tongue, obediently placing the headband on the desk. Liang Daiwen took it and carefully placed it in the drawer, locking it. His face was dark with anger, almost terrifying.

Gu Yi, Guan Xingxin, and Yu Dule all saw it. The three of them, who had personally seen Liang Daiwen wearing the Donald Duck headgear, shook their heads in unison: “Unbelievable, unbelievable, Gu Yi, you’ve really got him trapped.”

Gu Yi, who was secretly overjoyed, forced herself to remain calm on the surface. Trapped? It’s just a headgear, maybe he was just worried about getting it dirty. A low battery warning popped up, and Gu Yi muttered to herself, “This is bad, it’s going to shut down, and I won’t be able to get Jacqueline’s feedback. I’m going to get scolded.”

A data cable was passed to her—by Liang Daiwen. Gu Yi’s mind seemed to short-circuit as she handed over her phone. One person held the data cable while the other held the phone, and after fiddling with it for a while, they still couldn’t connect it. Guan Xingxin, Lu Ming, and Yu Dule, who were sitting on the floor, were dumbfounded. What on earth were these two doing?

Gu Yi almost couldn’t help but laugh at the awkward scene. Why hadn’t she just taken the data cable instead of handing over her phone? She chuckled and said, “Liang Daiwen, are you shaking?”

Liang Daiwen threw the long data cable on the ground and walked away. His back as he walked up to the stage was still red in the ears.

The lecture began. The PPT on the projector was very simple. Liang Daiwen’s introduction sounded almost like a stand-up routine, at least offending half of the audience: “Nowadays, there are too many fancy but empty PPTs. People focus too much on design and forget about the purpose of delivering information. Today, I’m talking about design, so I’m using a simple white background with black text. You can say it’s because I didn’t have time to prepare.”

Delivering these lines with a serious face was even more amusing than Gu Yi’s lively explanation. The second slide of Liang Daiwen’s PPT was a photo of himself driving, with his phone placed in the passenger seat. “First, let me ask you a question. Do you often find situations in life inconvenient? For example, when you’re driving, do you feel like a fully able-bodied person? Because when you focus on driving, your ability to judge other things decreases, and your visual and non-visual skills also weaken. It’s almost like being disabled. Anyone can become impaired in special circumstances. ‘Universal design’ applies to everyone... This is what I do now, designing intelligent system interfaces like hearing-impaired software and input methods for visually impaired people. The other part of my work involves physical objects, such as handrails in bathrooms for people with mobility impairments to help them. Sounds impressive, right? But it’s very basic work, and I’m still learning in this new field…”

Liang Daiwen, speaking at the lecture, was doing his best to make himself approachable. Gu Yi remembered the first time she met him—he had been distant and cold, but now, although there was still no change in his expression, his tone was at least trying to sound relaxed. She could tell that Liang Daiwen, though still emotionless, was exuding confidence as he spoke clearly and logically. There was no longer any mark on his neck, and the scar on his hand was only visible from certain angles. With his hair cut short, he looked much more polished, and throughout the lecture, he didn’t glance at her once.

“After working with these people, I realized that disabled people often feel excluded from many activities. They can only share with family members, but just ‘surviving’ isn’t enough for them. They also have hobbies. If we could make social activities more inclusive, it would boost their self-confidence. For example, video games, which have a strong social aspect, have become increasingly complicated with updates, and for those who struggle to open doors, the controllers have become nearly impossible to use. The Xbox adaptive controller allows people to use one hand, a shoulder, one foot, or even their chin to play. With larger buttons and joysticks, people with physical disabilities can use healthy parts of their bodies to control the game. Once they get the hang of it, they might even be better at it than us…”

After the carefully prepared lecture ended, only sparse applause could be heard. The Q&A session had just started when several people in fancy clothes raised their hands like at an auction, standing out in the first row.

“Devin, you’ve designed for Xia Fuli and Finchi, and you’ve received invitations from so many luxury brands abroad. Why would you give up such great opportunities?”

“At your age, you could have developed a career in a prestigious, profitable industry…”

“If you go into universal design, could you start a business and get investment…”

Listening to the questions that had nothing to do with universal design, Gu Yi felt the attitude of the audience. Most of them were uninterested in marginalized groups. The affluent people who rushed in weren’t concerned with universal design or the idea Liang Daiwen was trying to promote. They weren’t interested in how this group had been neglected by intelligent technology… They only cared about whether Devin Liang could design more eye-catching luxury goods, whether he would accept investment, and whether his brain would return to normal so he could go back to the industry that needed him.

Liang Daiwen maintained basic politeness with a cold face. Even a man who rarely got angry was no longer using a polite fake smile. He answered each question patiently: “Yes, if there’s investment, that’s great. I’d gladly turn appreciation into money, since this is an area that capital will eventually have to face. Developing it takes time and effort, but the users are all from society’s margins…” The people in the capital crowd smiled derisively—this rookie designer, relying on his talent, didn’t know how to show humility. Didn’t he fear being abandoned?

A few people laughed and left the stage. Zhang Qingya gave a slight smile and gestured toward Liang Daiwen as if signaling a phone call before closing the door. In the studio, the questions started to increase, coming from graduate students in social work from Fudan University, confused design students, and office workers with family members who had disabilities. Liang Daiwen spoke seriously, seemingly forgetting his usual lack of expression. He spoke so intensely that everyone began to shrink back. After a while, he paused for two seconds, took out his standard “Ding Haiyin fake smile,” and finally, a girl behind him sighed, “So handsome…”

Gu Yi tossed the data cable aside. “Handsome? It’s all just a mask.”

The sharing session lasted longer than expected. Liang Daiwen was willing to share the PPT with the audience, and a group of people waited to form a group face-to-face. Someone asked, “Is it really that hard to switch to a new industry?” Liang Daiwen looked at his phone while answering, “Other industries might require strong professional skills, but the entertainment and service industries, their threshold is just loneliness. I was listening to a stand-up comedy show the other day, and I realized that these people are just sharing their desire to not be lonely with the audience. All other reasons—expressive needs, a desire to share… For the performers and the audience, it all seems forced, after all, it’s just revealing part of their privacy to others.”

“Then, can you share some privacy with us? For example, why did you choose such a niche job…”

Gu Yi blurted out a question, causing the room to fall silent. Outside the studio, the sky was overcast. Liang Daiwen remained silent for a few seconds before picking up the microphone: “Watching my mother pass away with my own eyes and being unable to do anything—this kind of thing truly destroys one’s passion.”

The sharing session ended, leaving only the assistant and five people in the room. Gu Yi circled around Liang Daiwen’s desk, curious whether Liang Daiwen would get angry if she touched his things. The desk was arranged too neatly, so she could only wipe the dust with a tissue, measure the back of the chair with a ruler, and poke the nearby mannequin… Liang Daiwen seemed to ignore her, instead talking with Yu Dule about why they couldn’t win the lottery at ounce recently. The three of them left first, and as Guan Xingxin was about to leave, she pointed at Liang Daiwen’s tightly buttoned collar and tie, almost mocking him. Liang Daiwen turned around and looked at Gu Yi; their gazes met. She didn’t look away, and neither did he. His Adam’s apple seemed to move slightly, though you wouldn’t notice unless you looked closely.

The phone rang. It was Xu Guanrui. Gu Yi accidentally put it on speakerphone, and a groggy, whining voice came through, almost like he was whining: “I just woke up, working on the draft. I’m going to Japan next week. Do you want me to bring you anything…”

The screeching sound of the speaker filled the air. Liang Daiwen fiddled with the speaker, making the sharp, shrill sound fill the entire space. Gu Yi had to hang up the call. Liang Daiwen turned off the speaker and walked over. Was he coming to lecture her about not touching things or making phone calls in the studio?

He just said, “I’ve booked a restaurant. We’ll go together in a bit.”

“Just the two of us? Are we going on a date?”

Liang Daiwen turned back and said, “What are you thinking? There are five people coming to support me. Why would I have dinner alone with you?”

Gu Yi muttered in her heart, Am I supposed to choke on this… as she bent down to grab the umbrella on the edge of the desk. Liang Daiwen said indifferently, “That’s the assistant’s umbrella. Leave it for her.”

After saying that, he took off his coat and draped it over their heads. The faint scent of shower gel, unique to men, filled the air. She had smelled it before when they lived under the same roof, but now, it was almost forgotten. Her heart raced, and the warmth from his body transferred to hers. The streetlight outside illuminated their faces as he raised his arm to hail a taxi. What seemed like a clichéd scene from a drama felt so real that it almost brought her to tears. It reminded her of a scene from Ando Robot, where a robot, previously emotionless, starts developing feelings after being given a new name by the female protagonist. It went from being a guardian to wanting to love her.

She wasn’t trying to turn Liang Daiwen into a robot, but in that moment, she understood how love could melt everything cold—machines, ice layers, snowy plains… Love truly was like light.

As they turned around, the assistant had locked the door and took out her own umbrella from her bag.

The twist happened too quickly?

The coat blocked her view as Gu Yi was wrapped in it and got into the car. Liang Daiwen casually said, “Why’s your body temperature so low? Are you a cold-blooded animal?”

What did that mean? Was he starting to feel his heart race now?

The car ride was silent. When they arrived at the Bund, they walked into the Peninsula Hotel, and the sound of piano music from the first floor greeted them. She had been here before, for a watch brand event. As they entered, she thought about Xu Guanrui’s joke again. The wicked stepsister in the story had become the heroine, and the story was about to be rewritten. Was Cinderella really completely kind? The pumpkin carriage and the crystal slippers, the midnight countdown with a limited-time glow—all were calculated moves.

Being designed is what makes it fascinating.

Liang Daiwen turned his head: “What are you thinking?”

“Afraid I’m going on a date with someone else? You specifically asked Guan Xingxin and came to leave me with memories, didn’t you?”

“Dream on.”

At the restaurant’s entrance, the waiter politely asked for their name. After confirming, the waiter spoke up: “Oh, are you Mr. Liang, the one with the WeChat name ‘File Transfer Assistant’? Three of your friends have already arrived. Please follow me.”

What?

Gu Yi followed behind, slowly realizing what was going on: “Liang Daiwen, you’d better explain yourself.”

Liang Daiwen followed the waiter, striding ahead without looking back: “It’s no big deal. Living together, I just got used to your habits. I didn’t peek at your phone. That guy downstairs at ounce looked like a little gangster, hugging and touching like it’s nothing. I was afraid you’d get kidnapped and turn into a fallen girl, so I observed your jokes and changed your avatar to a green arrow. Your username became ‘File Transfer Assistant,’ that’s all.”

“...”

“I didn’t expect you’d actually send the jokes to me. Based on what I’ve seen, you’re still safe and haven’t attracted any gangsters’ attention, but—you really have no sense of caution. Luckily, you’re not some famous joke writer, or you’d be stolen by a fellow worker.”