Chapter 34

The Robot and the Garbage Cat

Hearing this sentence, it was impossible not to stir some emotions. The frustration when Xu Guanrui kissed her that night, and the disappointment when talking about someone’s lost love, suddenly all seemed to make sense. Gu Yi feigned calmness. “Have they been in a relationship for a long time?”

“About two years. But Jacqueline has been playing with him. On the surface, they’re a couple, but she keeps a distance, and when her client is heartbroken, she’ll accompany him as a friend to get away from it all. When it comes to work and interests, men are nothing to her. I think Xu Guanrui just hasn’t found someone new, otherwise, he wouldn’t be so willingly kept hanging.”

“Jacqueline… is she really that charming?”

“Aren’t you also willing to work overtime for her? Be careful, she’s a master of PUA. She targets the excellent but vulnerable ones, suppresses them, and once those people give her a few compliments, they’ll be completely devoted to her—seems like you’ve fallen into that trap too. But I know a bit about Jacqueline’s past. Her ex, Huang Wend, is a talented guy. He fell in love with Jacqueline at first sight. Jacqueline was raised by her grandmother and aunt, did very well in school, and her aunt wanted her to graduate and become a teacher to support her cousin. She had to work at the local education bureau, kneeling for an afternoon to get a stamp that prevented her from returning. Then she followed Huang Wend to Shanghai, worked while studying for a master’s degree with equivalent qualifications, and also had to pay back her aunt’s tuition fees. It was very inspirational, but they eventually broke up. Oh, Huang Wend is the guy who invited her to Beijing to partner up now.”

Gu Yi was lost in thought.

“Jacqueline was quirky and charming when she was younger, with a small face and big eyes. I’ve seen photos, and they’re enough to make anyone’s heart flutter. Huang Wend is incredibly talented, and during the heyday of BlogBus, their love story spread. Want to see it? I can send it to you.”

The “Dalin Love Story” copied and pasted into the document sounded like a typical urban romance between a talented man and a beautiful woman from the early 2000s. But the blurry scanned photos of their couple pictures and group shots did indeed evoke a slight stir, capturing the attention of those around them. The girl was taken by a university student, and during their studies, they became known for their love story, landing internships, and slowly climbing up the ranks. Jacqueline’s views and ambitions were probably all shaped by Huang Wend. No one knew why they broke up in the end. But the passionate love story didn’t last long. Huang Wend, born in 1982, and Zhang Junjie, born in 1984, had a picture of themselves embracing at Westminster Abbey in 2009, their determined gazes as if they could walk hand in hand to the end of the world.

This made contemporary urban love seem so insipid, to the point that no matter how dazzling Xu Guanrui was, he felt like a trivial Easter egg after an intricate blockbuster movie.

Downstairs at the office, Gu Yi found herself caught up in an unanticipated battlefield. She thought to herself that, luckily, it happened late at night, and besides Jacqueline, no one else knew.

But Jacqueline wasn’t enough, especially when she appeared at Ounce. Gu Yi was a bit confused. If they could rekindle their old flame, why was Jacqueline still playing second fiddle to her ex, Roger? Why stay at Yi Zhou and watch his face when the editor-in-chief wasn’t much more flattering than a partner?

“Maybe she’s invested in it too. She’s been at Yi Zhou for three years. She really cares about her staff. Have you noticed how low our office turnover is? Of course, when celebrities need magazine pages or exclusive interviews, they always come looking for her,” the intern said, rubbing his fingers together in a money gesture. “Staying in this position definitely has its perks.”

“How do you know so much?”

“It wasn’t easy to get this information. I had to work hard to please the boss.” The intern winked, looking mysteriously at Gu Yi—who was, in fact, his evaluation subject.

Gu Yi turned her head to look at Jacqueline, who was on the phone, and felt a measure of respect. The urban women of the past were those who sought love but remained alone, fiercely carving out careers with direct and decisive intentions. The urban women of today, however, walked into brunches in designer clothes, paying for overpriced designs and treatments, quietly suffering yet pretending to be effortlessly beautiful, selling anxiety to everyone—beauty for all, plastic for all. Jacqueline was a master of this routine, only bothering to fight it out in her work, while those who relied on their beauty for love and career were probably things she despised playing with.

Receiving such recognition from a leader must be more fulfilling than defeating ten Ponies. Before the thought even faded, Jacqueline had approved the interview schedule via email, adding three more interviews for Gu Yi. With seven articles to submit by Friday, it wasn’t clear if it was a test or training.

She certainly wasn’t one to back down.

By the time she finished the first interview, it was already 8 p.m. When Gu Yi came out of the subway, she saw Xu Guanrui, still in his usual prince-like attire, standing out at the subway entrance. Trying hard to forget Jacqueline’s gossipy comments about him, Gu Yi joked, “If you stand here during the day, you’d look like a swimming fitness manager promoting packages.”

“The vibe is totally different,” Xu Guanrui said, taking Gu Yi’s bag with an attentive gesture. The man who waited for her to have dinner led her into a Western restaurant, where they sat in a quiet corner chatting. Gu Yi casually brought up, “I’m thinking of running my own Weibo account and starting a public account. I don’t know how to grow the data. I have a few thousand followers on Weibo, and I occasionally post some jokes. Since I often talk about relationships between men and women, I sometimes get private messages like a confessional.”

“Why the sudden interest in this?”

“I want to gain recognition from the leadership. Even though I now have another leader over me, I still want Jacqueline to recognize me. Someone advised me that to be valued, you need to have a unique, irreplaceable skill. I told Jacqueline I wanted to create a more distinctive account, but she didn’t respond—I don’t know what this devil is thinking.”

Xu Guanrui couldn’t help but smile as he looked at the salad. Gu Yi thought to herself, he really must like Jacqueline, to get this happy just hearing her name. After hearing her goals, Xu Guanrui chuckled and said, “Why not treat your Weibo posts as jokes?”

“Some are funny as text, but some are only funny when spoken aloud. There’s a subtle difference, and I can’t quite explain it.”

“I have a friend in marketing who helps bloggers buy followers and manage their accounts, but I don’t think it’s necessary. One million followers, twenty shares, zero sales—it looks awful. Every time you follow the trending topics, share opinions, and post screenshots of private messages with blurred names, your followers will grow fast. It’s about relationships between men and women, morality, and ethics, and you’re funny, so the traffic will flow naturally. As for the public account, I don’t think it’s very meaningful unless the content is really fresh. Otherwise, you could try Douyin (TikTok).”

Xu Guanrui, with his unusually clear mind, still insisted on writing music reviews and organizing events, his work entirely fueled by passion. Gu Yi looked at him and felt a bit of sympathy: “Sometimes I feel like entertainment work isn’t very valuable. Compared to being a teacher, a police officer, or a doctor, we’re just transmitting content that will eventually be outdated. It often flips, truth and lies, and besides being gossip fodder, it has no real meaning.”

“No, that’s because your main job still has some deviation from what you love. For example, you love stand-up comedy, but you’re doing interviews now, so it feels forced. Doctors and teachers will also get burnt out if they don’t believe in their profession. Don’t envy other industries so easily.”

“And you? Do you get annoyed organizing events?”

“No, I do music reviews and events because I like them. When I was in college, I used to contribute to Popular Songs Rock. I listened to all the domestic music and was cynical, looking down on people who listened to pop music, thinking they had bad taste. But later, my dad left home and drove all over the country. My mom was home alone. Once, when I went to visit her, she was listening to my heavy metal rock. That’s when I realized, whether it’s art or entertainment, if it provides emotional value to people, you can’t just say it’s meaningless. Everyone, no matter their taste, is searching for something to comfort themselves, life is tiring. Of course, those celebrities buying trending topics and collapsing scandals—they’re idiots.”

When Xu Guanrui talked about things he disliked, he often directly cursed people, which was completely different from his prince-like image. Gu Yi was successfully amused, and Xu Guanrui urged her to eat while he looked over her Weibo. Gu Yi said there was no need to rush—it wouldn’t be solved in a day or two.

“Your business is my business,” Xu Guanrui said, sitting cross-legged on the sofa, laughing at her jokes.

“Are you like this with everyone?”

“No, I don’t have time. You’re special.” A breeze came through the window, and Xu Guanrui said, “The first and second time I saw you, I thought it was strange. How could someone like me, all scarred and full of holes, be out there, almost pierced through by the wind? I thought then, I wanted to shield you from bullets and share strong drinks with you. I once heard a theory that everyone has four hands, four legs, two bodies, and two heads, full of infinite energy. But when a person offends Zeus, they’re split in half, and after that, their power becomes ordinary. From then on, they remember, carrying the wound, looking for the other half to rely on. It sounds foolish, right? But I felt a bit moved. Many people think love is like assembling a puzzle, and maybe the one Zeus split me from is another version of myself, not identical, but certainly with something that could be called ‘kindred spirits.’”

Gu Yi quietly looked at him. A call came in, and the screen displayed “Jacqueline,” but Xu Guanwui calmly cut it off as if nothing had happened. Gu Yi pretended not to notice, focusing on eating the roasted chicken. When she looked up again, Xu Guanwui had already sat down beside her: “So, do you want to come home with me?”

“Huh?”

“What are you thinking? I want to show you my collection. I have thousands of CDs at home, including many limited editions and antiques.”

“Liang Daiwen has a collection too.”

“Completely different. His is probably just an ordinary collection, but mine? Definitely on the expert level. Don’t challenge my professional domain.” Xu Guanwui suddenly became a bit competitive. “In other aspects, he’s no match for me either.”

When you’re with someone you like too much, your IQ might drop, but when Gu Yi was with Xu Guanwui, even as her heartstrings were gently tugged, there was always a subtle adult intuition—fuzzy, yet accurate. For example, Xu Guanwui staying by her side felt like he was going through a “transition” phase, bidding farewell to an old relationship, and preparing for a new one. Whether by design or simply fate, he was subtly tempting her to become an accomplice.

After all, Liang Daiwen had a communication disorder, making him, in a sense, a “hopeless case.”

Everyone was invited to Laila’s birthday party. Originally unrelated people, due to Guan Xingxin’s suicide, all carved out time for “Laila’s” birthday. When they saw Guan Xingxin, she was in the studio, dressed all in black, with motion capture sensors attached below her neck. As she waved her hands, a blonde woman in a red cloak moved on the large screen, her breasts bouncing and legs long. Guan Xingxin jokingly jumped, and the character’s chest followed suit, causing everyone behind the computers to laugh. In the studio, several colleagues sat in front of computers, coordinating with Laila’s live broadcast, along with microphones, costume changes, and live background effects. After the countdown, the door was closed, and a few people waited in the next room for the host to finish work. The sound from the broadcast still came intermittently: “Thanks to all the patrons for their donations, now, everyone, request a song. Huh, where’s my microphone?”

The other four people sat outside, watching the live broadcast. In the lounge, a large birthday cake was set up, and several operations staff chatted with the four. Virtual idols were not yet very popular, but in Japan, many were active. In China, it was just beginning, and they had to thank Guan Xingxin’s incident for bringing virtual streamers into the spotlight. It seemed that she was still underutilized, and should have leveraged the hype to appear on a reality dating show. Many people were trying to find her, but no one knew why she rejected all the offers. The girl who once said, “I’d rather cry in a BMW,” had earned quite a bit of money during this hype. Lu Ming and Yu Dule both had gloomy expressions, and it was Yu Dule who spoke first: “She’s not that flamboyant.”

The staff awkwardly responded: “That’s not what we meant. Mainly, the ‘middle-person’ profession doesn’t focus on looks or body types but on personality. She stands out too much in this industry, and there aren’t many friends in our company’s acting department…”

Liang Daiwen suddenly spoke up, still wearing his standard warm smile: “Just treat her like a robot, that’s what this job is about. She enjoys doing this, so there’s no need to pity her.”

Only three people knew how terrifying that smile was—outwardly warm, but his true meaning was likely: “What does it have to do with you? She’s already brought the industry into the spotlight, and you’re still gossiping. It’s not like you’re trying to push her out.”

It wasn’t surprising that pretty girls often became internet celebrities. In any workplace, stunningly beautiful women often had colleagues who couldn’t wait for them to fall from grace. They maintained a friendly façade, always addressing each other with “dear” during work, but secretly indifferent; while male colleagues were surrounded, the center of attention, representing the future’s possibilities. Once, Roger passed an office and saw an intern with a lip ring surrounded by five or six female colleagues. He couldn’t help but stop and take a picture, joking that, for the sake of the female employees’ emotional stability, the intern couldn’t be allowed to leave.

The lounge continued its casual chatter about weather, food, and influencer restaurants… These subtle conversations turned into Gu Yi’s jokes. Halfway through, she clicked on the file transfer assistant’s profile, wondering if it was a variation of Liang Daiwen’s. Liang Daiwen glanced at her and said, “Please, I’m not that bored. Besides, what could be in your jokes that’s inappropriate?”

“There’s plenty, I even use it to store dirty jokes, date locations, and links to P Station…”

Liang Daiwen suddenly choked on some water, pretending to stay calm as he drank it. Gu Yi leaned closer and whispered, “Looks like you understood, so you also… watch P Station?”

“A bit of research.”

“Huh?”

“What do you think? I was studying the algorithms of foreign websites while working on video progress markers. I found that the markers on P Station aren’t based on a video’s default level of excitement, but on the time viewers stop watching. Because at that point, they’ve finished, it’s the ‘sage time,’ and there’s no need to continue watching… So, the point where they stop should be the most exciting and worthy of marking.”

The three of them rested their chins, watching Liang Daiwen seriously talk nonsense. This type of adult joke could only be delivered without blinking by someone with a communication disorder. Lu Ming and Yu Dule both laughed: “Liang Daiwen, just say you watch P Station.”

Liang Daiwen’s ears turned red: “Boring.”

Yu Dule, with great interest, said, “Gu Yi, since Lu Ming and I are here, just say whose joke this is. Girls can’t tell this one, so Lu Ming and I will take it. You just stick to your feminist jokes.”

“Don’t even think about it, this joke was from Liang Daiwen, so Liang Daiwen is mine...”

Before she could finish, Gu Yi turned around and saw Liang Daiwen staring at her. His eyes seemed to hook into her skin, waiting for an answer eagerly. She originally wanted to say “mine,” but a mischievous idea crossed her mind and she said, “He’s my robot.”

There was a moment of silence in the air, then Liang Daiwen calmly shifted his gaze back to his phone. Gu Yi gently teased him, “Robot is just a nickname. This isn’t the virtual streamer next door, where Laila’s body is fake but her soul is real. Your body is real, but your soul is empty.”

After saying this, Liang Daiwen remained silent. Gu Yi leaned in and noticed that Liang Daiwen was biting his lip, holding back for a long time before responding, “There’s no need to remind me again. I know better than you how heartless I am.”

In the studio, Guan Xingxin was bidding farewell to the audience: “Thank you, everyone. Laila is very happy tonight, and she will always be with you in the future. Also, thank you for never giving up on me...”

This made Gu Yi feel a bit flustered. Was she in love with Liang Daiwen, or was it just the empty shell of Liang Daiwen she liked? Or rather, was Liang Daiwen truly a person with flesh and blood, someone who understands cold and warmth, and could she still possess him as she did now?

She followed behind, unsure how to apologize, her steps slowing down. Liang Daiwen’s desolate back seemed strange. No matter how strong and broad his back was, when it was hurt, it looked dejected, as if the person had shrunk by a whole circle...

“I’m sorry. I thought I could joke with you, I didn’t mean to despise your emotional disorder... I’m just a trash cat, eating junk food and living in a damp room. You picked me up from my rented apartment and took me into your home without despising me. And isn’t a robot and a trash cat a perfect match? One is cold-hearted and emotionless, and the other has no heart at all. If it were me, no one would be as devoted to you as I am. Do you believe it?”

“Devoted?”

“Yeah, which girl wouldn’t back off when hearing about emotional disorders? But I’m definitely not pitying you. I just think you’re lonely, and so am I. No matter how cold-hearted the owner is, a trash cat will never leave the one who feeds it... Didn’t we choose each other?”

“Alright, I got it.” Liang Daiwen turned around, his face serious. “A robot is just a robot.”

What?

Surrounded by virtual livestream figurines and merchandise, it felt like a fantasy zoo. Liang Daiwen turned around, and the stunned “trash cat” finally realized—Liang Daiwen was just messing with her again!

“Three times, Gu Yi, three times. You’ve been fooled three times and still didn’t realize it. Your brain really isn’t working.”

“You!”

“Well, never mind, if your brain worked, I wouldn’t be able to mess with you so easily. Listen up, don’t bring up my emotional disorder again. I don’t want to be reminded that I can’t feel. I’m a human, I have a brain, and every day I’m with you guys, I’m actively rehabilitating. Also, this P-site joke is only for you. Yu Dule and Lu Ming are not allowed to use it. The day you tell it, make sure I get a ticket. I want to personally hear how you’ll tell it.”

Gu Yi was left stammering: “But you said you watch P-site, isn’t it for research…”

“Of course I watch P-site.” Liang Daiwen turned and walked off. “I’m a man too.”