Chapter 49

If the man I like were here, I really wish he could hear this part, and take care of what should be done behind closed doors for me.

Gu Yi had a dream in the early hours of the morning. She, who was afraid of heights, was walking down the stairs on a pedestrian bridge. It was a rainy day, and the steps were slippery. Every step she took was unstable. The umbrella was a bit heavy, and in her other hand, she held a love exchange coupon. The wind was strong, and the coupon, which was already soaked by the rain, was about to tear apart. The worst thing happened: most of the coupon flew away, and she threw the umbrella to chase after it. She missed a step…

Her body jolted, and she woke up. Laughing as she looked at the ceiling, she thought, “Where is there such a thing as a love exchange coupon in life?” The dream had no sense of balance, nothing but a feeling of losing grip on too many things. In her inbox, the promotion list quietly lay there. After the 100k+ views article, she had successfully become the editor-in-chief of Bypass within three days, although still under Pony’s jurisdiction. But she no longer had to review articles. However, she didn’t feel the slightest bit of joy. As soon as she sat in the editor-in-chief position of this public account, this disgraceful article would continue to slap her face.

Unable to sleep, Gu Yi got up and sat in front of her computer to draw. Her mind was filled with many multi-faceted characters, all from recent encounters. The clothes were still theirs, and the faces were as ugly as possible, leaving the rest of the copywriting for her to improvise jokes. She hid herself as the interviewer and left everything to the characters.

Boss: “What I believe in the most is the wolf culture. How should I put it? The evil force in human nature is limitless. It really feels great to see employees scheming against each other for the little money I give them. At the annual meeting, they will be genuinely angry because they got the ‘Sunshine’ bus card instead of the Thermos cup. The price is the same, the cup is just a little bigger.”

Man: “Faking moves in basketball is an enlightenment for love. You see, once you learn how to dodge left and right, you can confuse a woman to the point she can’t find north. I told them, I don’t love you that much. They were really upset. The deeper meaning of my love for them, I can’t even express. There’s hot food to eat, a little hungry, want to try a new position, as long as she’s willing… If I say this, ‘love’ becomes dirty. But actually, that’s just how men are.”

Overtime: “A folding umbrella is really light, right? But when it pops open and your missing sock appears, you’ll realize it also has storage functions. Don’t blame me for being messy, who can neatly fold everything after working overtime until midnight and getting soaked by the rain on the way home?”

Dreams: “Anyway, big cities are just full of a few obsessions. It’s like sit-ups, no matter how tired you are, you can’t stop. If you can’t do the last one, you’ve given up.”

After practicing her writing, Gu Yi painted If That Day I Hadn’t Entered That Place... and pulled an all-nighter to finish it. She made herself into an ugly, cone-faced female internet celebrity who crashed a salon at the most expensive hotel in Shanghai and secretly overheard a conversation among rich people. A woman with a mole and long straight hair sat with a few handsome men, discussing how to eliminate people from the team who had no value.

Woman: “These sharp thorns, always preaching big theories and creating oppositions, constantly full of anger and never knowing their limits, there’s a psychological term for them—honest people. People who don’t know how to read the room should be eliminated from the team. Everyone has some valuable skills, I can always find another, but employees who can’t provide emotional value are like fishbones. Don’t they understand how much hardship the boss endures at work?”

“They always think this city needs romance, society needs fairness. But the baseline for romance is set so high, and the ceiling for fairness keeps getting lower. People like us, who are a little wealthier, are confused. We spend money but still feel numb, we try to be kind but are constantly manipulated. Our hearts are tired too. So, when he sent me a message a month in advance saying he wasn’t renewing the contract, I pretended not to see it. What can he do? If I say two words, he will soften, but who knew he was more foolish, cutting off his own financial path with a plagiarism scandal? It really pisses me off...”

After sending it, Gu Yi’s article accidentally gained 50k+ views. After an interview, she returned to the office and was immediately grabbed by an intern: “Sis, have you seen this article? It’s so funny, the one about Liang Daiwen’s plagiarism. The way her boss was drawn is so ugly.”

“I haven’t seen it.”

“Now everyone is asking who made this account. You went to the interview that day too, could it be you? Since it’s a new account, and you do this kind of work...”

Before she could finish, Jacqueline waved her over to the office, asking the same question. Gu Yi yawned. “It’s really not me. After work, I was looking for places to do stand-up, already exhausted.”

Gu Yi yawned so hard that it felt like she was in the right—years ago, she had helped the company register official accounts. The limit was five accounts per ID, and now this account was registered under her mother’s name with Uncle Yun’s ID. So many media and influencers were under her, all with great original content. She was just a ten-hour-a-day employee; why would anyone doubt her? After leaving Jacqueline’s office, Gu Yi thought, although she didn’t have a stage to perform on, as a stand-up comedian, she still had basic moral integrity, daring to offend and speak the truth. When there’s a line in front of her and most people keep silent out of politeness, she at least could cross it. And, fuck them.

But this 50k+ came so easily, was Liang Daiwen really such a hot topic recently?

During lunch with Xu Guanrui, Gu Yi sat quietly in a corner drawing on her iPad. It was rare for her to have a chance to joke around, so she took advantage of the 50k+ (which would probably hit 100k+ by evening) and quickly drew new content to increase her followers. She even wasn’t in a hurry to quit; staying in the industry to accumulate more material might bring in some traffic and ad revenue. Midway through, someone’s shadow appeared behind her. She thought it was Xu Guanrui, but when she looked back, it was Huang Wendao.

How did he end up here? Seeing the little cartoon in her hand, Gu Yi instinctively tried to hide it. She definitely couldn’t let Jacqueline’s ex see it. Huang Wendao only smiled and stood by. “Why hide? It’s interesting. I even shared it—I have a lot of people on my WeChat Moments.”

“...”

“I won’t tell your boss. If you need public relations help, you can contact me, my company is nearby.”

“Aren’t you in Beijing?”

“Beijing and Shanghai aren’t much different.”

It was a bit awkward. Gu Yi asked, “Do you want some fries?”

“No thanks, I don’t eat poor people’s food.”

Annoying. Huang Wendao must have been handsome when he was young. Even though he was now fat, his facial features still looked good, sharp and cold. He likely set up his company nearby to get back together with Jacqueline. Gu Yi even suspected the reason behind Jacqueline and Xu Guanrui’s breakup, although she had drunkenly made a scene, her heartbreak seemed genuine.

Xu Guanrui came down from the third floor, looking puzzled. “Who were you talking to just now?”

“Jacqueline’s ex. His company is in your park…”

“I know. But it’s over between us, so don’t worry. How’s that long comic doing?”

Only Xu Guanrui knew about this. In other words, he was always by her side, sensing her unhappiness. 70k views, something she couldn’t even imagine. But the comments in the backend were obviously unfriendly—”Plagiarism is plagiarism, what does breaking a contract have to do with it? Plagiarism is a moral issue, a contract is a legal issue, mixing them together, is your brain messed up?”

Indeed, no one could easily understand the logic of someone with emotional dysregulation. Even a fool would know to protect themselves and use the law as a weapon. Liang Daiwen, who had just learned to act emotionally, made the first choice not to hurt others. Gu Yi didn’t highlight this comment on the front page, faintly feeling she might have dealt Liang Daiwen another blow—without anyone knowing he had emotional dysregulation, his plagiarism would only lead to insult, with no chance of reversal.

She hadn’t seen Liang Daiwen for a week.

Guan Xingxin wouldn’t let the two of them not meet. Under her careful decoration, the Rongmao Theater’s courtyard had become a genuine stand-up rehearsal space: a wooden stage, a microphone, wooden stools, and orange secondhand sofas behind them; opposite was a row of folding chairs. People who liked stand-up could come and play, as long as they brought their own drinks. The first day officially open to the public saw many people, mostly stand-up comedy enthusiasts, along with some who had previously been unable to get tickets, packed tightly. People were forced into the room, leaving the door open to hear the comedy. Yu Dule stood at the door like a ticket checker, the summer heat had passed, and the September breeze felt warm on the skin. He said, “Please queue up, there are residential buildings nearby, let’s keep the noise down.” Xu Guanrui brought a babyface vinyl, and gentle music floated out, under the yellow lighting, like a fleeting encounter for the urban homeless.

A few people ordered fast food, and the small table was full of junk food. Thoughtful Xu Guanrui saved a spot and joked with Gu Yi: “There’s no one more obsessed with gatherings than people in Shanghai. It’s like a typhoon’s coming, but these people won’t go home, believe it?”

Gu Yi smiled. The person she was waiting for still hadn’t appeared. The courtyard gradually filled up. One by one, people peeked in, but none were Liang Daiwen. Guan Xingxin handed Gu Yi some fries: “It seems Liang Daiwen went on a business trip, didn’t expect he’d be so busy. I messaged him, he said he’d try. You haven’t been in touch lately?”

In the distance, Lu Ming had already picked up the microphone. Gu Yi squeezed back to Xu Guanrui’s side. Xu Guanrui turned to look at Liang Daiwen’s approaching gaze and patted Gu Yi’s shoulder. Lu Ming stood on the stage, laughing brightly a few times: “Thanks, everyone, for coming here. The microphone still needs to be turned down a bit, after all, neighbors live upstairs. Rongmao was originally just a small theater, rented to students from Shanghai Theatre Academy to rehearse plays, not for profit, but to keep a quiet place. Never expected today we’d have the chance to host a show here, very grateful. In the future, we’ll have two stand-up comedy shows here every week. If anyone wants to do a solo performance, you can contact me. But applying for a license is too much trouble, so we don’t have the official performance qualifications and no performance fee. But I think most people don’t care about the two or three hundred bucks...”

There was a burst of cheerful laughter from the audience. Guan Xingxin sat in the front row, wearing a pink water-color dress with long wavy hair, looking like a fairy. Lu Ming stretched out his hand. “Everyone knows I’m in debt, which is more troublesome than being pregnant, so I’ve entrusted the WeChat official account matters to Teacher Guan. If you need anything, you can contact her.”

“What kind of relationship?” someone heckled from the audience.

“Friends, friends. If I can pay off my debts by the end of the year, I hope you’ll spread the word, and I might have a chance to find a real girlfriend.”

His choice of words was subtle. Guan Xingxin’s smile was forced, and Yu Dule stood up and entered the living room. Lu Ming handed the microphone to Gu Yi, who went on stage, glancing distantly at the empty space. Liang Daiwen wasn’t there. She had hoped today would be a “call back” between him and her—a first performance at a new venue, a fresh encounter between performer and audience.

But it wasn’t.

“Hello, everyone, I’m Gu Yi. It’s been a while since I performed. The last time was when I accidentally stumbled into a comedy show at Hongqiao. That day, the scene was so lively—the audience was five people, and the performers were ten. To make the place feel more crowded, all the performers sat in the audience, creating the illusion of enthusiastic applause when they appeared on stage. This terrified the five audience members. Halfway through the show, three left, and the remaining two nervously asked if they were going to perform too. That was the most successful time I’ve ever seen a performer offend an audience.”

“Still, we have to thank Uncle Lu for giving us this opportunity to perform. Everyone must have seen that comedy variety show recently, right? It’s made us all eager, but it doesn’t solve the livelihood issues for offline performers. Otherwise, why would we all be here, with barely any earnings? But coming to Rongmao Theater has one advantage: Uncle Lu doesn’t sell alcohol, which greatly reduces the risk of binge drinking. After all, our art form was born in bars, where most of the inspiration comes from alcohol. A little argument, and we’re drinking away our frustrations. The modern urban life with junk food during the day and excessive partying at night—thank you, Uncle Lu, for giving us the opportunity to show restraint. Otherwise, when comedy actors grow old, they might end up on insulin during the day and dialysis at night, competing for space in the hospital emergency room...”

“I’ve done plenty of stupid things lately. For instance, my boss asked me to write a PR piece. When you’re doing something against your will, there’s a strange satisfaction in knowing you have a good reason to insult others. Please don’t record this, my boss will fire me if he sees it. You can laugh, but don’t record. Where was I? Oh right, I was writing an event promotion for a foreign real estate project, ‘Fifteen minutes’ walk from Hyde Park,’ and immersing myself in the Cambridge and Oxford University culture. I felt really sad. I’m the son of factory workers; my parents weld steel beds and fix electric machines. Now I’m writing promotions for rich second-generation students studying abroad. It’s worse than having to write an English composition about my hometown in elementary school. Can you do this with money? At least—pay me an extra 2,000 yuan?”

She took a deep breath, preparing for the next part of her routine. Originally, it was a joke prepared to tease someone, but now there was no chance to tease him anymore. Still, it had to be said. She had made so many revisions with “Mr. File Transfer Assistant,” but she missed the performance—oh, the rockets that were sent by God had to be returned one by one.

Forget it, she said it anyway.

“I’ve recently developed a crush on someone. I often embarrass myself in front of him. When you like someone, you always want to present a slightly better version of yourself, right? I still look pretty curvy, right? But when I’m around the guy I like, I got greedy and put on a breast pad. That day, to be honest, I couldn’t even see my toes when I looked down—cough, I exaggerated a little for artistic effect. But that day, he went on a business trip, and my plan was ruined. I was so frustrated that I immediately went home and took off the confining things, then went out drinking. When I got drunk, he came back. I was overjoyed and immediately jumped on him right in the middle of the street. The street was so romantic, I thought, ‘If you don’t take me home today, you’re looking down on me.’ Until he ripped a breast pad off my pants. Friends, a little tip: store those sticky things properly, or it could ruin the key moment of flirtation. Looking back, it was still so embarrassing. If the guy I like were here, I really hope he would hear this and make up for what should have been done in private.”

Laughter erupted from the crowd. Gu Yi, still holding the microphone, hadn’t yet had a chance to feel the sorrow when a figure walked in through the door...

Liang Daiwen, looking weary, walked in, still wearing the backpack she had when he held her.