Chapter 62

“I’m banned from performing worldwide?”

If Liu Ran’s speech hadn’t been unusually fast, as though cutting her off, Gu Yi would’ve thought she misheard. Since signing the contract, she hadn’t gotten any commercial gigs through the agency, and now, when she found one herself, they wanted to take a cut. She was starting to lose trust in Liu Ran: “It’s been almost three months since signing, and I’ve done everything I could. You Worry is clearly not a good platform. Do you think the actors aren’t trying hard? Acting as a middleman and charging fees, this isn’t even how arranged marriages work!”

“Gu Yi, the contract was signed this way. It’s not that we don’t want you to perform, we just handle the commercial gigs, and we can establish stable relationships with future clients.” It was clear she was on another call, as the line went quiet for a moment before Liu Ran came back: “If you breach the contract and get banned from performing worldwide, it will really hurt your chances of performing.”

Gu Yi was too angry to know how to argue. Liu Ran continued: “Gu Yi, the posters from previous performances, our boss found them really interesting. The schedule for next month’s performances is out, could you please draw some more posters for us? Just deliver them by the end of the month.”

“Will there be any pay?”

“Signed actors help the company, and we all work together to make You Worry succeed. If we don’t put in effort, how can the company rise?”

Gu Yi gritted her teeth: “Liu Ran, how can you make it sound so good when you’re stealing from me?”

Unable to argue over the phone, Liu Ran skillfully deflected the confrontation. On her way home, Gu Yi privately messaged a few friends from the actor group and found out more than she expected. Not only was there no performance opportunity, but the comedy center was funded by the actors themselves. The most surprising thing was a tall and confident girl from Shandong, who privately messaged Gu Yi saying her boss had invited her to dinner with a district leader, and during the meal, she was touched inappropriately and told that You Worry selected actors according to the standards of flight attendants. Gu Yi was furious. When she asked the girl if she wanted to break the contract and take legal action, the girl replied that there was no evidence, and if it got out, it would ruin her reputation. Finally, Liu Ran added: “Gu Yi, you have a slave mentality, why do you feel like we’re commanding you? You signed the contract, we’re all working for the same goal. Why turn yourself into a slave?”

“Fck your father!”

Liang Daiwen couldn’t get through to Gu Yi’s phone and searched everywhere she might go in the middle of the night—at Ounce, outside the company building, at bars she frequented, her old residence, and near Xu Guanyue’s place. The more he thought about it, the more something seemed off, so he called Yu Dule. The two of them searched the inner ring, and Yu Dule mentioned a small alley behind Ounce, thinking she might be hiding there.

When they arrived, Gu Yi was holding a beer bottle, her cheeks puffed out like a pufferfish, her nose probably stuffy from crying, exhaling deeply in place. As soon as she saw Liang Daiwen, she turned and started walking away. Liang Daiwen shouted from behind, “Don’t follow me! I have no face to see anyone, after tonight, I’ll die with Liu Ran!”

“How are you going to die with her?”

“I’ll buy some explosives and blow up the boss and Liu Ran’s house.” Gu Yi gritted her teeth. Liang Daiwen could tell she was drunk and angry. Without hesitation, he took out his phone.

“Don’t take pictures! I didn’t do anything wrong. Why should I let them make me accept this, fcking slave mentality.” Gu Yi frowned, tilting her head and pouting, swearing: “Where does this slave mentality come from? I have such a strong backbone. I’ve never considered taking shortcuts. I’ve sold my soul to three companies, each one trying to PUA me. What slave am I? A slave to destiny? I’ve gotten nothing I wanted. No salary, rent is sky-high, I have to split two hundred bucks with others. Finally, I got love, and it’s you—don’t take pictures!”

Her voice was loud enough that passersby stopped to watch. Liang Daiwen’s camera made the onlookers retreat, but by the time he turned back, she had crouched down, staring at the ground, so angry it seemed like she could burn a hole in the asphalt. Her drunken, angry rant was both pitiful and laughable. Liang Daiwen couldn’t help but laugh, though he felt sorry for her. It was really funny. He wiped his tears, his nose crooked, and looked at her: “You need to calm down.”

“I can’t calm down! Solo comedy, a group of people exchanging sincerity for sincerity, why do they let scum like this in…”

Liang Daiwen pulled Gu Yi into his arms: “In any ‘industry,’ sincerity only comes when everyone helps each other reach their goals. In the end, everyone is just using each other. But if the cooperation doesn’t work, trust breaks down. Just cut ties.”

To this day, Liang Daiwen still hasn’t learned how to give a natural hug. His comforting pat on the back was as stiff as a disassembled propeller. Gu Yi was carried on Liang Daiwen’s back, her tears and snot splattered all over his shirt. “You can cry and laugh now, huh? Do I look like a spectacle to you when I’m going crazy? I’m a new artist representative of the performing arts, you need to pay me...”

“I know. Isn’t it normal for people to act silly over things they like? If it weren’t for you insisting on staying by my side, I’d probably still be a robot with weak emotions. Don’t cry. If you keep crying, I’ll make you pay me. A hundred yuan for every extra minute, I’m serious, WeChat Pay.”

Gu Yi gritted her teeth and stopped her tears. Liang Daiwen suppressed a laugh, “Being poor is really your weakness.”

“Are you really going to mock me at a time like this?”

“Because I know you’ll quickly rise up to fight back. You’ll go to bed once we get upstairs, leave the rest to me.”

“What for?”

“To be a stand-up comedy gatekeeper.”

The road ahead was still long. It was a two-kilometer walk home, but Liang Daiwen didn’t find it tiring. His eyes held the waxing moon, and also the colorful neon lights along the road. The rain that hadn’t evaporated yet, the wet pavement reflected the scenery ahead, and even the illusory dreams lit up reality. He hadn’t dreamed in over ten years. The first time he carried Gu Yi, the road was only lit by yellow street lamps, and both his mind and sight were barren. He couldn’t even imagine what love looked like; he didn’t yet have the ability to understand it. In the works he had encountered, love was always depicted as beautiful, crazy, and persistent... but none were like this, so bittersweet yet something he wanted to cherish.

This was his first exclusive memory of love.

Gu Yi recommended a performance opportunity to Yu Dule, carefully organizing a nine-grid post on Weibo, outlining the signing process and events from the past two to three months. She included the posters and brochures made for You Wurou, Liang Daiwen’s design drafts, and even the floor paper comparison images she personally helped to paste at the theater, all meticulously detailed. After checking online and spending a long time on the court case website, Gu Yi’s head was spinning while Liang Daiwen was still on the phone.

Suddenly, a message came in from Xu Guanrui: “How are you?”

“Not good,” Gu Yi explained the situation and forwarded the contract. After a few minutes, Xu Guanrui replied. “This kind of contract is actually quite easy to resolve. It’s an entertainment agency contract, right? As long as you apply for termination, it’ll usually be dissolved. It’s a special contract between agent and entrustee. If the second party asks for termination, it’s usually in favor of termination because the contract is based on mutual trust. Is there a penalty?”

“Because there’s no signing fee, its constraint is ‘worldwide performance ban’...”

Xu Guanrui sent a voice message, laughing, “They basically haven’t done anything, so it’s damaging to your interests, right? I’ve heard of a famous singer in a similar situation, where the agency didn’t invest or finish the album as agreed, and when the singer requested termination, the agency sued first. After going to court, they followed the contract terms, and the singer terminated the contract successfully. A month later, the album was on NetEase Cloud — companies that don’t do anything can usually reach termination. But I guess this won’t need my involvement, right? It’s not a big deal, although I can probably resolve it faster than him.”

“This has nothing to do with you guys, I’m the one suing. I’m not that cowardly. Also, there are actors who were harassed, but without evidence, I’m thinking of joining with a few others to terminate contracts.”

Xu Guanrui suddenly called: “Little rabbit, I suggest you focus on protecting yourself. Not everyone is going to think the same way. There’s a girl talking around me in the background: I’ve met more people than you, like a Taiwanese band where they didn’t greet each other but exploded with political views, or a band disbanding on the day of the concert. Don’t expect to drag anyone with you. You’re my comrade, so I’ll tell you these things, but to others, I’d just say ‘good luck’ and let them handle it themselves.”

“Understood.”

“If Liang Daiwen is your boyfriend, I can’t steal your spotlight, but I’ll help you if you need it. It’s been a while since we had lunch together, right?”

Before Gu Yi could respond, Xu Guanrui hung up. The last sound she heard was a loud “clang,” as if the phone was slammed.

Liang Daiwen walked out: “Who were you on the phone with?”

“Nothing,” Gu Yi sat up straight. “What did the lawyer say?”

Liang Daiwen’s advice was similar to Xu Guanrui’s, but he clearly leaned more toward a quick termination: “We’ll send the letter tomorrow. If you want to post on Weibo, feel free. If this blows up, it could even boost their followers.”

“Liang Daiwen, you’re so ruthless.”

“Why show mercy to the enemy? My own matters don’t matter to me; I can’t feel it. But I can’t stand seeing you worry about this every day.”

Gu Yi glanced at Liang Daiwen and posted on Weibo late at night. With a few thousand followers, by the next morning, it had 50 shares and 200 comments. You Wurou Comedy hadn’t responded yet. When she arrived at work, Jacqueline dragged her into the office: “No wonder you’ve been distracted lately. You learned everything from one week and are now doing it for a small workshop. The mid-year review is coming up soon, you probably don’t want a promotion and want to get fired.”

“I have to protect my rights; this is a personal matter,” Gu Yi, who had become familiar with Jacqueline, now vented the frustrations she couldn’t with Liang Daiwen. “I need to make some extra money too. Rent is going up, and I don’t have enough for living expenses.”

“Surrounded by so many excellent men and still worried about rent.”

Gu Yi slammed her hand on the table: “I’m an independent woman! I rent my own place, have hobbies, and work overtime. Why do you say that about me?”

“Is that so? If the backstage data for ‘Bypass’ reaches 600,000 by July, I’ll give you a raise.”

“You might as well tell me to buy followers. It’s at 170,000 right now, and there are only 40 days left. In 9012, there’s no way to increase millions of followers like that.”

“You dared to sign a stand-up comedy agency contract, so why don’t you dare make a bet on this?” Jacqueline provoked her. “You have such a strong sense of ownership in comedy, yet you don’t take your main job seriously. Reflect on whether you’re really just showing up for the paycheck, which is why your salary isn’t increasing.”

Gu Yi was overwhelmed. She sat in the office, took out an iPad from the drawer, and spent the entire afternoon drawing during her lunch break. Before leaving work, she sent Jacqueline several designs: “Do you think this topic is good? If so, I’ll send it out and test the waters.”

The text describes a long comic titled “Even Stand-Up Comedians Don’t Tell the Truth”. Originally intended for her public account, Gu Yi suddenly had a falling out with Jacqueline and didn’t mind if she found out. She had drawn the images of four stand-up comedians, two men and two women: one with small eyes, one with large nostrils, another with a mole on their upper lip, and one beautiful woman with a pixelated chest. The comic was unfinished, but the sarcastic remarks were all written.

“Stand-up comedy is a textual art, while cross-talk and sketches are performance arts. But since they’re all too poor, now it’s considered performance art.”

“They say writers are poor, but stand-up comedians are the poorest, so poor that they’ve even been excluded from the ‘writer’ group, haha. A thousand-word script for a show, 200 RMB in performance fees, and often not even getting paid. In one of my performances, the event was co-hosted by Xueersi and Jiaotong University, and I still don’t know whether I should ask Xueersi or Jiaotong. One’s a listed company, the other’s a famous 985 university. They owe me money, and I’ve developed a sense of accomplishment from it.”

“People think I’m pretty, right? But when I do stand-up, I slouch and hunch over, cursing people harder. They gave me the nickname ‘Beautiful Dragon Hua Poisonous Woman’. Shanghai people would get it, as Longhua is the name of a funeral home. When I do stand-up, I send people off, that’s the idea. You can’t make being pretty a label for stand-up. Only being vicious works, and if you say you’re pretty, the women in the audience will get upset.”

“I have a mole on my philtrum. Since I was a kid, people have laughed at me, calling it a fly that landed on my face. Later, when our school organized a spring outing to the mountain to search for treasure, I needed to use the bathroom and got stung by a hornet on my little private area. It seems like I’ve always experienced bad luck, but I joke about these things, and people get tired of it. Then at an open mic, a dwarf, about 1.3 meters tall, came up to do stand-up and asked me if I had any misfortunes. I froze. That day, he told a story about being bullied when he was young, and honestly, it was so moving. The way he could joke about his own struggles made me think, if he can laugh at his misfortunes, then I can make light of my embarrassing moments too.”

“Stand-up comedy needs soil to grow, but bars are for hooking up, and the karaoke halls in small towns are for cheating. Most people in China probably don’t even understand what stand-up is, let alone go to a theater and pay for it. There are so many funny videos on Douyin and Kuaishou. Stand-up is about a small group of people holding their wine glasses elegantly and offending others, and that in itself is already a kind of offensive luxury.”

“When I was a graduate student, my advisor left a topic at a seminar: Why won’t slapstick comedy become as popular as Zhao Benshan’s sketches across the country? At the time, many classmates offered their opinions: Shanghai dialect is hard to spread, Shanghai is xenophobic, not vulgar enough… One classmate, impatient, said in front of the actor, ‘Let those outdated things be eliminated by time, what’s there to regret?’ At the time, I wasn’t brave enough to retort, but now I want to say, I hope this art form can thrive. Being an actor may not satisfy everything, but to let it perish is truly immoral. I’m sorry to those who gain a sense of accomplishment from making others laugh. I’ve never forgotten that moment, and that’s why I became a skeptical person who always questions things before feeling at ease. I can’t focus on anything, not even kissing.”

“Many people say they want to change the world, but what they really want is to make money.”

“What kind of person is suited to be a stand-up comedian?”

A: “Someone who can’t do anything but talk.”

B: “Someone who has never seen money or earned any.”

C: “An observer.”

D: “Trash.”

Jacqueline replied quickly: “Okay, make it longer, this has potential.”

After work, she originally wanted to go to Ounce to hang out, but ever since Ounce changed its name to Antelope, she couldn’t get into the open mic. She was more upset about that than when Ounce closed down. The next day, she was going for arbitration. Liang Daiwen was working overtime at the company, and Gu Yi took the subway to Lujiazui, then went to a café to continue working on her comic. Her stomach growled, and someone pinched her ear—it was Liang Daiwen, wearing a backpack.

“Have you eaten?”

“Not yet.”

“You don’t need to skip meals for a contract, we’re 100% going to win the arbitration.”

“Do you want to go to Aunt Zheng’s house? I’ll make a reservation.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled through recent calls. The first one that appeared was a call from Xu Guanyue, which made Gu Yi a little nervous—Liang Daiwen had definitely seen it. Gu Yi stammered, “The contract issue, he reminded me not to drag other actors in, just focus on protecting myself.”

“Oh. Then why are you nervous?”

“I’m afraid you’ll get jealous.”

“Where’s your confidence from?”

She got roasted again! Gu Yi caught up with Liang Daiwen: “I’ve noticed, your clingy and cute side is gone.”

“I was clingy and cute?”

“You were! Just the other day, you were hanging around my place.”

“I don’t remember.”

“You!”

“I’ve thought about being a gentle and sweet-talking guy, but the reality is you have so many flaws, you’re passionate but careless, and you get too worked up over things. I just think if it doesn’t work, just shut up, but I can’t help it.”

Gu Yi had no comeback; he wasn’t wrong.

“But none of this is a flaw. After this setback, you’ll learn from it—people always grow wiser after making mistakes.”

“Actually, I’m a bit curious… Why didn’t you sue Zhang Qingya that time?”

“She was like a mentor to me. Back in school, I could make more money than my peers, and it was thanks to her that I got the opportunity. What I was learning at that time was really logical and theoretical, and drawing was just a break. I didn’t have much of a social life and spent most of my time at school. Most of my classmates were really smart, and our extracurricular activities were just being invited by big companies to play, getting free swag bags. My classmate even made a website for free meals, scraping lecture info and free food. As long as it wasn’t awkward, you could eat and wear well. Zhang Qingya was in the drama academy, and as one of the few Chinese people there, she spent more time outside school, and she would take me along. The friends I made back then left me with some feelings, and of course, I later had to pay her a lot of penalty fees due to breach of contract.” Liang Daiwen slowed down his steps: “It’s all about human relations. Over the years, I’ve probably caused her a lot of trouble without giving her any emotional support. She’s stuck in the middle between me and the client, it must’ve been tough for her. Emotional support is expensive, you know. Even though your brain isn’t great, you give others full marks for emotional support.”

Gu Yi was puzzled by the last sentence: “Are you praising me or scolding me?”

“Being chased for help by Xu Guanyue, you tell me, am I praising you or scolding you?”

... Just say you’re jealous!

When she got home, Gu Yi also received a “ban letter,” prohibiting her from performing globally. Liang Daiwen saw it with a blank expression: “There sure are a lot of people bringing material to your doorstep.”

But Gu Yi felt uneasy inside.

The morning before the arbitration, Gu Yi woke up and found that her Weibo post about contract termination and rights protection had been shared over a thousand times. Did someone buy an advertisement for her? She took a closer look and saw that a big influencer named “Sister Rourou” had reposted it: “Sister Zhao, I can’t stand it when companies bully actors with contracts. I hope the girl can terminate the contract soon. The brochure design and posters are pretty, just for this design, I think you deserve to be on a bigger platform. I’m waiting for you to step onto a bigger stage.”

This person... has 7.5 million followers. The comment section even had people replying: “You’re really not afraid of anything, no wonder you get scolded.” The influencer quickly replied: “What do I have to fear? I only fear idiots like you.”

Gu Yi was stunned, so bold, not afraid of anything. The repost was clearly because of the design, and indeed, Liang Daiwen’s talent stood out more. But at least this brought over a thousand shares, which was way better than buying data. She thought, there really is a kind of touching feeling called “girls help girls.” She sent a private message to Sister Rourou, and the reply came almost immediately: “It’s okay, Xu Guanyue and Jacqueline are both my friends. They asked me to repost one after the other. You have a lot of face.”

This made Gu Yi pause. The arbitration was going to have her face off against Liu Ran alone, and the Weibo reposts and comments kept increasing. Though there were still some people criticizing her, she wasn’t scared anymore—she was going to reclaim what was hers.

Just before entering the arbitration office, Gu Yi got a call from Yu Dule: “You got into the Ounce open mic tonight, are you going to perform?”

“Of course I am, I’m basically the first person banned from performing globally!”