Chapter 43

Appetite is one of the few pleasures we can truly feel.

Gu Yi thought this wasn’t necessarily a bad thing. Losing her tooth was a fact, and Liang Daiwen, full of guilt, kissed her in the car. That was a scene she couldn’t help but blush and feel her heart race over, even just thinking about it under the covers—a memory that made her want to run wild on the street from sheer joy. How much of that moment did Liang Daiwen feel? Was he truly moved? In the cramped space of the back seat, she could hear his heartbeat too—it wasn’t any steadier than her own…

Too bad Liang Daiwen couldn’t express himself well. He kissed her and then said the only reason he was different from others was because he was missing a tooth. After the kiss, there were no texts, no calls—not a single message. What did that mean? Did he want to just shirk responsibility and run? Gu Yi lay in bed, flipping over angrily. If this were turned into a comedy sketch, the audience at Ounce might as well drag them both to the altar for a wedding on the spot.

Too excited to sleep, Gu Yi stayed up half the night writing comedy material on her phone, only to wake up with a swollen eye. Eager to share her jokes, she messaged Yu Dule:

“Hey, I haven’t been able to draw a slot for a performance at Ounce lately. Can you pull some strings?”

“I can’t.”

“You’re just jealous and don’t want to give me a chance.”

“No—scheduling’s no longer up to me. The boss is back and restructuring things at the bar. I’m waiting for updates too.”

Feeling heartbroken about her material going stale within a week, Gu Yi thought about where else she could perform. After some frantic brainstorming, she remembered a female comedy group that had once invited her. Tentatively reaching out to the organizer, she was told they only had one show a week, and all slots were long booked. A place like Ounce, with three or four shows a week, seemed much more luxurious in comparison. During the phone call, the organizer jokingly added, “Our frequency is low—just like women’s place in society.”

Gu Yi didn’t know how to respond to that.

After three days of being teased at the office about her missing front tooth, she decided to ditch her mask entirely. Her coworkers’ curiosity couldn’t be curbed by a mask anyway. Meanwhile, an internal email from the company announced that Jacqueline’s department would not only oversee One Week but also take on the younger-focused Bypass magazine, accompanied by significant personnel changes. Gu Yi wondered: wasn’t Jacqueline on shaky ground at the company? Could it be that she was focusing more on work now after breaking up with Xu Guanrui?

Pony suggested in the group chat: “Let’s all cheer up our little bunny! How about some team bonding this weekend?” Gu Yi almost ground her molars to dust. She thought it’d be better to just buy an ad and publicly execute her on a Times Square billboard. Still, she replied in the chat:

“Sorry, everyone, I’m swamped with work. Pony gave me a task, and I’ll have to do interviews this weekend.”

Adding words like “sorry” and “swamped” were ways she’d taught Liang Daiwen to politely deliver sarcastic jabs. But Pony wasn’t one to lose at such games—she scheduled a karaoke outing for the entire team that afternoon, making escape impossible. It was worse than being at work.

The content team, along with their interns, made a group of 12. Pony sat across from her with all the male colleagues except her own intern. The songs they picked were pretentious and out of touch. When they egged Gu Yi on to sing, all just to get a better look at her missing tooth, she didn’t hold back and boldly chose A Hero’s Song for herself.

The male colleagues were even more enthusiastic than Pony, teasing:

“Wow, Gu Yi, what happened to your tooth? Did you knock it out while drunk?”

Gu Yi rolled her eyes in her heart: “I got hit while playing basketball.”

“Whoa, must’ve been a deep grudge! By the way, they’re planning new employee photos soon. Gu Yi, make sure to smile big…”

Gu Yi gripped the microphone, though she was seething inside. “Sure, no problem.”

While the group stepped out to smoke, the intern with a lip ring leaned in. Gu Yi knew this was a prelude to some juicy gossip. In a hushed tone, the intern said he’d recently gone out for a meal and had witnessed a tense encounter between Huang Wenda and Jacqueline. Gu Yi wasn’t particularly interested, but the intern stuck out his tongue playfully.

“She refused to go to Beijing,” he whispered. “Huang Wenda, who was deeply in love but had a fleeting affair, complained that Jacqueline spent too much time on work. Unbeknownst to her, he cheated. Jacqueline said she didn’t regret loving him, but she also wouldn’t forgive him. No chance of reconciliation, either. I was having Kaiseki at the time and didn’t even taste a single bite, just craned my neck to listen to their drama. Jacqueline, being the iron lady she is, stayed composed enough not to throw her drink at him. Huang Wenda said, ‘There’s nothing to argue about. You’re single now because you trust no one, and I’m the only person you can depend on.’ You know what Jacqueline replied? She said she’d dumped her younger boyfriend and no one could stop her in her career—how badass is that?”

Gu Yi got the message: Xu Guanrui had moved on so quickly because he’d been dumped. Jacqueline, a steel-willed woman who valued work above all else, severing ties for her ambition. Was it worth it to earn so much money yet be without love?

Later, everyone was singing karaoke at Pure K. Each person had a cup of bubble tea (and split the cost evenly). Gu Yi was starving but decided to call a car to Liang Daiwen’s studio instead. If she couldn’t run into him, she’d at least snap a photo to post as a kind of tourist-attraction check-in at this famous workaholic’s workplace. Running into him would be even better.

As she stepped out, she bumped into Huang Wenda, who had just emerged from the private room next door. He greeted her, “What happened to your tooth?”

“Chipped it.” From the adjacent room came the sweet, coquettish voices of young girls singing, ”I want to give you a love that never sets, hearts entwined as we travel the world...” Much more melodious than the tunes her coworkers had been belting out.

“You’re still young. Drink less,” Huang Wenda advised.

A middle-aged man showing up next door to Yi Zhou’s office to sing karaoke—it was obvious he was there to see Jacqueline. Gu Yi saw him sneak a peek through the glass door, only to retreat quickly. He looked both relieved and disappointed. “Figures, she doesn’t mix well with others,” he muttered.

Too bad Gu Yi had no interest in him and didn’t want to waste time gossiping about Jacqueline. As she hurried out to catch her ride, Huang Wenda stopped her. “Can we exchange WeChat?”

A man who ran a public opinion monitoring firm but couldn’t stay in Beijing for proper work, instead coming to Shanghai to sing karaoke with a group of young women—it all struck Gu Yi as hypocritical. Why not just confess openly instead of beating around the bush? But imagining Jacqueline’s icy demeanor, she figured Huang Wenda must be racking up rejections. On a whim, she peeked at Huang Wenda’s WeChat Moments. To her surprise, it was quite clean—no gym selfies, no “successful entrepreneur” photos. Just reposts of company news and industry updates, plus a single group photo from his MBA program at Cheung Kong Graduate School of Business. The caption was uninspired and half-hearted, which oddly added to his appeal.

One other photo stood out: a nighttime shot of the Huangpu River from a two-yuan ferry, captioned ”10 years.” Gu Yi found herself momentarily lost in thought. Despite often cracking jokes about urban romance, such images of enduring sentimentality still touched her. Life might present countless fleeting moments of attraction, but the one you recall at midnight is always the person who once burned so brightly in your heart that remembering them feels like falling into solitude all over again.

For a woman he hadn’t seen in seven years, he made frequent trips to Shanghai, hoping to rekindle something, albeit clumsily. Gu Yi wondered if Huang Wenda realized his actions were as futile as carving a mark on a boat to retrieve a lost sword.

Just got out of the car, and saw a Porsche parked by the roadside. I knocked on the studio door and, sure enough, I saw... Zhang Qingya. She was wearing a black long dress and a wide-brimmed hat, and was sizing me up. I was dressed casually in jeans, Carel mid-heeled shoes, and a gray-blue doll shirt. Zhang Qingya only smiled, with a kind of superior nonchalance that made me feel like I was being wrung out after being taken off a clothesline, all my insides twisting. At this hour, does she often come to disturb Liang Daiwen? She was so formally dressed, with flawless makeup—does she need to be so serious about the images?

Zhang Qingya gently asked Liang Daiwen, as if she were more familiar with him than I was: “Friend?”

“Mm.” Liang Daiwen didn’t elaborate, glanced at her, and then turned his head back to the computer. He rarely wore glasses and didn’t seem to favor either side, acting as if no one was around. At that moment, I felt a competitive urge and refused to face Zhang Qingya directly. I couldn’t let her see my crooked teeth—it was already obvious who had the upper hand, and I couldn’t lose at this point. She sat down, took out her computer, and continued working, replying to an email from Pony. The sound of her typing was loud and clear. Zhang Qingya’s smile never faded: “I don’t usually see you around. I come here often.”

She was getting irritated and almost said, “I go to his house to look for him.”

Behind her, the clicking of the mouse clearly stopped for a few seconds. Zhang Qingya looked at Liang Daiwen, then glanced back at her. The surprise in her eyes was evident, and she understood it—Liang Daiwen, this young man she was trying to lead into her circle, was having a flirtation with a girl in a doll shirt. Others might not notice, but in her eyes, even the admiration in Liang Daiwen’s gaze could be seen as rivalry.

“I’ll leave. This little friend’s here, and I feel like I’m about to be eaten.”

“It’s fine. The comedy bar next door is probably where she came from after the show,” Liang Daiwen replied, not trying to get closer to her nor mentioning the kiss we’d shared. What, was I not considered close enough to him? I walked over, wrapped my arm around Liang Daiwen’s, and in a pretentious voice said, “Darling, you can’t back out after kissing me. I’m hungry.”

Liang Daiwen coughed and stood up from his chair, making Zhang Qingya laugh. She asked me, “I’ve never seen him react like this before, usually he’s as stiff as a log. What happened to your teeth?”

Damn, it’s exposed! Gu Yi smiled, pressed her lips together, gave a thumbs-up, and pointed at Liang Daiwen: “I was playing tennis, and he elbowed me. Darling, you really hit too hard. What a waste of money...”

A subtle smile spread across Zhang Qingya’s face as she picked up her bag and left. Gu Yi tightly held onto Liang Daiwen’s arm, not letting him send her off, and watched as she disappeared from sight, only letting go once she heard the sound of a sports car starting outside. Gu Yi tossed his hand aside and sat on the sofa, crossing her legs. Liang Daiwen turned off the computer with a serious expression: “Still calling me darling? You want everyone to know about our relationship?”

“What relationship?”

This caught Liang Daiwen off guard. He turned away to clean up his things: “Be careful, or you might lose your other tooth.”

“You have such a weird kink.”

Liang Daiwen, with his ears red, slowly turned back to Gu Yi: “How come I never noticed this about you before?”

Gu Yi thought to herself, “Because when I was staying at your place, you never even looked at me properly.” They’d already hugged and kissed—doesn’t that make their relationship a bit more than just friends? At least closer than Zhang Qingya, right?

Liang Daiwen squeezed her neck like he was picking up a cat: “Let’s go.”

“Where? Are you kicking me out?”

“To eat. Your stomach’s been growling for a while. This room is filled with the sound of your hunger.”

Standing at the entrance of a Western restaurant, Gu Yi suddenly stopped. Tilting her head, she asked Liang Daiwen, “Do you only eat Western food, or do you not eat things like local dishes, hot pot, kimchi soup, grilled meat with rice?”

“Mm. Western fast food is more convenient.”

“Is that why you’re so cold-blooded? Come on, I’ll take you to eat something different.”

Gu Yi dragged Liang Daiwen into a Korean restaurant on Wuchuan Road. The place was called “Aunt Zhang’s Home,” and it had been open for over ten years, right next to Helen’s, a popular spot for international students. There was still an hour before closing, so Gu Yi confidently ordered a whole table of dishes—grilled meat platter, octopus hot pot, miso soup, two bowls of white rice, pumpkin soup, and kimchi radish... Gu Yi happily took a sip of the pumpkin soup: “You’re treating, so I won’t hold back. Eating this used to be a luxury when I was in school. The south side is cheaper, but whenever I came to the north side, it always felt like being around graduate and doctoral students. It was so warm to chat here in winter. You always say you don’t have friends, so you eat quickly, huh?”

“Mm. Eating for too long wastes time. When my dad gave me living expenses, he didn’t care much, so I always chose the convenient options. Later, when I got tired of greasy food, I only ate cold foods with a knife and fork.”

“Your dad really sealed you up tight, didn’t he? You’re kind of abusing yourself, you know? It’s surprising you even grew this tall. Do you see how the people at the next table are eating? They’re having rolled rice. This is called dog meat sauce, but it’s actually not dog meat...”

Gu Yi placed some greens in her palm, grilled some pork belly, added garlic slices, smeared the dog meat sauce on it, rolled it up, and shoved it into Liang Daiwen’s mouth: “The meat has to be pork belly. Everything else besides the dog meat sauce is an abomination. You have to take big bites. How is it? Good?”

He chewed with a blank face for a while, then finally said, “Is your hand clean?”

Gu Yi blood pressure shot up. She said, “I washed it earlier. What does it matter if it’s dirty? You’re the kind of person who wraps everything so cleanly and purely, so you should let us, who live in the mess, get some germs. You’ll get sick, and it’ll build your immunity. Don’t you think you live like you’re in a vacuum? There’s no warmth around you, you’re afraid of getting dirty, and over time, you even become cautious about stepping into the river. Getting tricked and falling into a wall, that’s normal.”

Liang Daiwen held his spoon and I pointed at the miso soup: “Eat the tofu with the soup, then scoop up some rice.”

“Why not just pour the rice in directly?”

“Damn, the texture of soaked rice is terrible! The rice becomes too soft. The best rice is when each grain is distinct and chewy, sweet and fragrant. The soup nourishes the esophagus, and then the rice’s sweetness fills your mouth. You should really enjoy this. I didn’t notice before, but I even bought you soft-boiled eggs. I’ve been encouraging you to commit bad habits.”

The dumb goose obediently ate, and before long, the rice was finished and beads of sweat were forming on his forehead. He had just picked up a tissue when Gu Yi said, “Don’t use a tissue, use the back of your hand. Experience the feeling of getting dirty, like this.” She wiped her lips with the back of her hand, the oil from her lips smearing across her skin, and casually rubbed her hand before continuing to eat. “Only with a bit of life’s messiness can you live freely.”

Wiping the sweat from his forehead, Liang Daiwen asked Gu Yi, “When did you start eating like this?”

“I often went out to eat with my mom, especially when it was twenty degrees below zero, we’d go to a street full of North Korean restaurants. First, we’d have soup to warm up, then grill meat until our mouths could hardly close from the heat. It’s best that way. My mom would occasionally heat up a bottle of white liquor — you don’t need to learn that, it’s too harsh on the esophagus. Or we’d have iron pot stewed goose, iron plate chicken racks, and mutton soup with fire spoons. My mom’s cooking is good, but she says the ritual of eating food is the greatest respect you can show yourself. In the coldest weather, we’d go into the warmest restaurants, in summer, we’d drink beer at barbecue stalls with good friends... So even though I grew up in a single-parent household, I never felt like I lacked love... If you feel like you have no one to eat with, find me. I think instant noodles with ham are delicious, as long as there’s soup...”

Just as she was saying this, Gu Yi suddenly froze. Liang Daiwen was seriously looking at her while loosening his tie. She had never seen anyone untie a tie like that — one hand on the knot, pulling to the right, then to the left, the two ends untangled and tucked into his pocket. He unbuttoned one button, exposing a small patch of skin, and his gaze remained fixed on her. His Adam’s apple moved slightly. The hormones in the air were stronger than the taste of the food in her mouth. Gu Yi choked a bit. “What are you doing? You can’t do that randomly.”

“I’m hot.”

“…That’s kind of seductive... The hotels near the student apartments are all full, I didn’t bring my ID.”

Liang Daiwen sighed, his tone quite puzzling. “Didn’t you ask me to relax?”

“Why do you have an expression at this time? Are you disgusted by me?”

“Can I roll my eyes?”

“No,” Gu Yi flashed her gap-toothed smile, “It’s impressive that you’re showing expression occasionally. Come back and brag when you can laugh out loud or cry with your mouth wide open.”

In the taxi on the way back, Liang Daiwen held his tie in his hand, and Gu Yi took it from him and draped it around her neck, half-listening to him chat. After a while, she asked, “How do you usually tie your tie?”

Liang Daiwen turned his body, the wide end on top, the small end below, crossing them over, then flipping the wide end over, and the motion was slow. Gu Yi’s heart raced; she felt the back seat was such a good place, in this moving yet closed-off environment, all the obstacles seemed to be shut out. But before Gu Yi could get a good look, the knot was quickly tied. Gu Yi said, “I see, you’re afraid of touching me. What’s the big deal with physical contact? Are you afraid I’ll kiss you?”

Before she could finish, his grip tightened, and Gu Yi found herself choked by the tie. “See, you really do have that kind of fetish. Loosen it up, I can’t breathe...”

Liang Daiwen untied the tie and stuffed it into his pocket, no longer playing childish games with her. Gu Yi fidgeted for a while, nudged his shoulder, and said, “So, Zhang Qingya really does visit your studio often.”

“Yeah. The recent collaboration is probably over now. I’m not very professional and never aspired to be a master. She has to explain all the details for me to draw. I’m good at perspective drawings and charge cheap prices, so she can make a high margin. Later, I might focus on making accessible electronic products, going back to my major, and I’m looking for opportunities to work full-time in that field. Everything is uncertain.”

“Oh...”

“I might need to stay late at the studio. I’ll drop you off first — why are you so concerned about Zhang Qingya? Are you jealous?”

The two of them got out of the taxi, and Gu Yi followed behind Liang Daiwen. “Jealous? Don’t I have other men chasing me?”

Liang Daiwen turned around, and this time, he had a glass heart, as if the name Xu Guanrui was written all over his face, his displeasure clear. He shot back, “We’ve kissed, hugged, and you even gave me a strawberry mark.”

Then what? If you say you’re in a relationship... I’ll agree without a second thought. Just like now, I also want you to know that my fragile, transparent heart needs protection too...

Liang Daiwen turned around, his lips parting halfway when a woman who had drunk too much stumbled out of a nearby bar. She walked between them, ruining the mood, bent over, holding onto a tree and dry-heaving. Gu Yi’s head spun with anger, and when she focused, she saw — wasn’t that Jacqueline?