Chapter 71

Why does she have a record of 2,000 steps at 5 am?

Gu Yi’s interview was never the reason she was hired. The boss didn’t even remember the interview and told her to come in for another one. This time, Gu Yi was more cautious. She purposely chose a time when Jacqueline was out of the office, sneaking away during lunch break to attend the interview, and returned around three or four in the afternoon, so that Jacqueline wouldn’t know. As Yu Dule put it, the company’s WeChat public account and service account were only useful for issuing ticket reminders and had no real function yet. As long as Gu Yi showed up, there was unlimited room for growth. Moreover, the company couldn’t find anyone to handle media coordination. Everyone was busy with scriptwriting and acting, and there was no one with a solid media background who could systematically manage the company’s publicity.

This made Gu Yi... feel a spark of ambition. During the interview, she had prepared a PowerPoint, categorizing the menu bar of the public account, breaking it into performance and content paths, and also accepting joke submissions. As the number of actors increased and the program’s exposure grew, the audience’s curiosity would rise, and their demand for “materials” would increase as well. Interviews, hand notes, creative discussions, podcasts... all these things could be continuously developed. To Gu Yi, these were small tasks. After all, the work she did at Yi Zhou was about planning topics, going out to interview, writing articles, formatting, communicating with designers for print magazines, applying for funding that needed approval from leaders via the OA system, and splitting payments for illustrations that cost 4,000 yuan into two installments. When Roger got angry, she also had to present a timeline, documenting all her 8-hour work, and even had to deal with Jacqueline’s emotional manipulation of the topics. After going through all this mentally with a sense of bitterness, Gu Yi told the HR, “I can do everything you need.”

It may sound a bit arrogant, but after working in lifestyle magazines and managing public accounts, she could handle multiple tasks at once. This time, she had learned a trick and directly set her expected salary at 18,000, following the method taught by Liang Daiwen—raise the figure above your expectation. Never add 10% to your current salary because the company will always try to bargain down.

As expected, the final deal was 15,500, and with the offer in hand, it felt like a weight had been lifted from her chest. At that moment, Gu Yi felt like she was 2.8 meters tall, standing proud and independent—Liang Daiwen could quit and live off her now. Liang Daiwen, upon seeing the offer, remained calm: “If you want me to sell my looks, just say it.”

“How can you crack such a dirty joke and remain unfazed?” Gu Yi was bewildered.

“You’re tempting me but won’t admit it,” Liang Daiwen said, tapping his computer and scratching his head. “Can you entertain yourself for a while? I need some peace and quiet.”

After saying that, he took his laptop and went into the study, making yet another international call. Recently, he had been pulling all-nighters for meetings. Gu Yi often went to the Van Gogh Gallery during the week, not for any other reason... just to see him. The robot was busy saving the world, and the lazy cat wasn’t by his side, so she had to stay nearby, ensuring the robot was safe, even if it meant just being in a spot where she could hear his voice.

She lay on the couch, kicking her legs and thinking of jokes, writing them while feeling guilty. She had come up with four long comic topics for Jacqueline’s account, which gained 70,000 followers, but this still didn’t meet the mid-year assessment target. It was clear that Jacqueline’s apparent support was just empty promises, and she had no real intention of awarding her any recognition. It didn’t matter, though. She already had the offer. Now, she just had to hand in her resignation. At Yi Zhou, even at the highest position, she would just be managing one more public account. All the main editors of the group’s print media were already set in their positions, and she had no interest in becoming an editor at another magazine—there was no room for growth. Besides, Jacqueline’s emotional manipulation was too severe. She wanted perfection in topic selection, and no matter how hard Gu Yi tried, Jacqueline was never satisfied with the “love” topic. It felt like she no longer recognized the meaning of the word “love.”

Perhaps this was because... she had never been able to face the last memory of Xu Guanrui she had with 畩澕獨傢. Maybe when love is discussed too much, nothing becomes a hot topic. Instead, as Father’s Day approached, she interviewed several fathers, and their stories were basically toxic fatherly love, which made her laugh even while writing them.

“My daughter is five years old, and she brings back boiled eggs from kindergarten every day because she doesn’t like to eat them. Besides that, I have to smile while accepting her ice cream that she licked for ten minutes, her chicken wings that were covered in teeth marks after being chewed for a long time, and I have to watch her dance the ‘Little Swans’ in her ballet costume at kindergarten. It’s not what I like; it’s the duty of a modern father. It feels like a conspiracy between moms and teachers—to humiliate the men who carried the burden of ten months of pregnancy and childbirth.”

“Blind mothers and grandmothers may think their son is cute, but our family is more rational. After all, none of us has decent genes. Now the child is two years old, and his head still looks like my father’s, with hardly any hair. And he’s not always cute—when he washes his face with banana peel, I really want to throw him away. Yes, for those of you without children, you might think it’s our fault for not controlling him, but no, we can’t control him either.”

“My dad is a tractor driver, and I drive an ambulance. When my daughter turned one, my mom threw everything with wheels far away, but now when she hears the word ‘catch shrimp,’ she gets excited. It’s like you have to accept what’s in your genes.”

“Right now, my biggest hope is that the internet has no memory, and my son won’t search for my name. Especially since there aren’t many people with the surname ‘Huan’ in all of China, I’m always afraid that the naked pictures I took when I was young will be used against me for his pocket money in the future.”

“I hope? I hope she doesn’t get mad and yell, ‘Daddy, go away,’ ‘I don’t want Daddy.’ Daddy doesn’t mind you having a dog; it’s just that when the dog comes, my status in the family will drop, and I’m not ready for that.”

She found these stories interesting, though she had very few memories of her own father. After falling asleep and waking up, she saw that the door to the study was slightly ajar, and Liang Daiwen was still on the phone: “We’re not making a special version for the elderly or for people with disabilities. We should use the same app for everyone, making them feel normal. If we create separate versions, it will increase costs and require double the workforce. Shouldn’t we design it to be accessible for everyone from the start? Do you know that even people with high-level spinal cord injuries use smartphones? Are you planning to create a special version just for them?”

After hanging up, he walked into the living room and saw Gu Yi drowsily lying on the couch. “You’ll catch a cold sleeping here.”

“No, it’s closer to you.”

“I still need to revise the plan. I’m working with a company in China to develop an app. The project manager assigned three people to work on the accessibility version, but not one of them understands what I’m saying.”

“What do you mean?”

“They’re preparing to make the regular app and assign three people to make a separate accessibility version—one with big fonts and voice recording functions. I guarantee that once they hand in this app, it will never be updated again.”

“What is Shark planning to do?”

“When I meet their boss, I’ll tell them directly that this isn’t going to work and they need to change it.”

Liang Daiwen wasn’t joking when he said this. A few days later, he went on a business trip to Hangzhou. In the elevator, he ran into the director of the R&D department and, during the half-minute ride up to the eighth floor, directly explained the problems they had been facing. As he was about to exit the elevator, he politely but firmly concluded: “If the Ministry of Industry and Information Technology requires every app to be accessible to people with disabilities, everyone will make it. Since we are doing it, why not integrate it into the same version? Separating the two versions and giving me a team for the accessibility version just shows a lack of communication. It’s hard for me to believe that your company treats all users equally.”

This conversation in the elevator led the director to take the matter up with the team leader in charge of the entire app project, a peer of Liang Daiwen’s who was efficient in getting things done.

But, of course, this upset the partner company. Liang Daiwen had previously worked with a major company in Hangzhou and had a reputation for being hard to communicate with. Now, his actions could be seen as a direct dismantling of the team. When Gu Yi heard this, she felt a bit of a chill: “I’m starting to be glad we’re on the same side. If we were on opposite sides, you’d wipe me out in a second. After all, if you think someone’s work is not up to standard, you’d just replace them. You’re ruthless.”

“Adding the functions for elderly and disabled people to the same app is like letting them see themselves in mainstream culture. Google is a partnership, and I’m not the designer I was back then; it’s not something I can decide on my own, so of course, I’ll try to minimize obstacles.”

“Being so aggressive will get you isolated. You might not have felt it before, but now it’s different.”

“Not for now. Also, it’s not about isolation. When the work is done, it takes so much time that who has the energy to care about isolation?”

Liang Daiwen, wearing glasses, stared at the screen. She didn’t understand the technical terms in the emails, but there were multiple complaints about how the accessibility version was slowing down the launch process. Liang Daiwen probably affected their Q3 KPI.

After finishing her erotic drawings, Gu Yi wanted to go home, relax, and watch a movie, but somehow ended up heading toward Liang Daiwen’s place—how pathetic. For the first time, Liang Daiwen wasn’t working late, and they both lay down to sleep together. Liang Daiwen quickly fell asleep. Gu Yi, while scrolling through Weibo, felt somewhat envious of Liang Daiwen’s sleep quality. Suddenly, she noticed that he stood up.

“What’s wrong?”

He didn’t respond, getting up and going into the living room to rummage through his bag, preparing to change clothes and go out. Gu Yi looked at Liang Daiwen, whose expression was blank, different from his usual poker face. She felt a bit scared. “Did something happen in the middle of the night?”

He still didn’t react, as if he didn’t hear her. Gu Yi stared at him, puzzled, thinking he might not have woken up—wait, it seemed like he really hadn’t woken up, his state was like he was still dreaming. She shook him and called out loudly, “Liang Daiwen, wake up, wake up!”

Liang Daiwen shivered and, as if waking from a dream, glared at Gu Yi before huddling on the floor, clutching his head. Gu Yi had never seen him like this. She had already dialed 120 on her phone and was holding it tightly in her hand. “Don’t scare me, does your head hurt? Your chest hurt? Are you uncomfortable?”

“I’m fine, sleepwalking.”

“Sleepwalking?”

According to Dr. Shen’s explanation in the email, after Liang Daiwen regained some emotional capacity, he occasionally sleepwalked. The symptoms weren’t severe, usually staying within the home, such as tidying things up, staring at a computer or phone, or preparing to go out. It didn’t happen often, but like other sleepwalkers, it could stop on its own or continue. However, if woken in the middle of it, it would cause intense headaches, and he wouldn’t be able to do anything the entire day. The voice message was much lighter than the email: “Don’t worry, he had an MRI done in the US, it’s not caused by any organic brain issue, it’s just anxiety. I’m not saying this, but his work is so aggressive, and his words are so harsh, so the sleepwalking is kind of his karma.”

“What anxiety?” Gu Yi asked.

“He won’t be anxious about work, probably more about separation anxiety when it comes to you,” Dr. Shen replied, gossiping a bit: “Just spend more time with him, this kid has never really been in a relationship, never truly had anything.”

At the end, Dr. Shen added a “dog head” emoji.

Liang Daiwen was lying on the couch with an ice pack on his head, frowning and silent, probably still shocked. Gu Yi felt both guilty and amused. Dissociative disorders were really the strangest personalities—when there were no waves, his sleep was great, but now that he felt something, he was stabbing himself in the heart. It did make her feel sorry for him though—this man who hadn’t dreamed in over ten years had finally gotten close to the realm of dreams, only to be sucked into the sleepwalking black hole. After carefully asking Liang Daiwen if he had dreamt of any specific events or objects, his voice sounded as though his skull was splitting: “No, really nothing.”

At this point, she really had no chance of returning to her small rented apartment. To prevent Liang Daiwen from sleepwalking out of the house, she installed an alarm sensor on the door that would notify her on her phone if the door was touched after midnight, with a loud noise if it opened. If he left, he would be hard to find, so she had to keep him within a small area. To make it harder for him to sleepwalk, she arranged a number of strange items in the room: a toy for large dogs, meant to delay time; blankets and pillows so he could continue sleeping on the spot; a shrill whistle, which according to aversion therapy, could supposedly cure sleepwalking; a fitness tracker on his wrist, recording his movements; and... she hid all the knives and wrapped their sharp edges. Liang Daiwen looked around the room at the strange setup: “If you didn’t know, you’d think you were playing some forbidden game at home, with whips and candles.”

“You wish.”

“What’s this?” Liang Daiwen pointed at a bowl of rice with a candle.

“I got it from my mom. You might be haunted, and need to avoid evil.”

“Strange. I’ve heard of Buddhism, I’ve heard of Taoism, but I’ve never heard of this kind of stuff.”

“What, just because you believe in Buddhism, it has to be the official version?”

“I thought stand-up comedians were materialists, not into feudal superstitions.”

“You’re sleepwalking.” Gu Yi said, though she didn’t stop her actions, locking up the lighter and the ignition device and hiding the keys. Liang Daiwen said, “Why not just tie me up then?”

“I won’t deprive you of your personal freedom.”

“Actually... my dad also sleepwalks. But when he worked as a prison guard years ago, a prisoner escaped when he was on duty, and my dad always kept that memory of chasing the fugitive. My mom isn’t as gentle as you, she dealt with my dad in a more brutal way.”

“How?”

“She couldn’t move well, so she put a small aluminum basin at the bed’s head. When my dad started shouting and talking in his sleep, she would bang the basin against the headboard—metallic beds are really loud.”

Gu Yi could only comment: “You and your dad sure found partners who are pretty violent.”

After finishing setting up the strange sleepwalking prevention devices, Gu Yi stayed at Liang Daiwen’s house every night, making it a peaceful night. But she couldn’t help but wonder—was Liang Daiwen really suffering from separation anxiety? How could someone of his age still have this problem, could it be real? Or was he just putting on a show, trying to trick her into moving in and living together? After probing Liang Daiwen, she received his impatient and disdainful response: “Live together? Are you trying to squeeze out my last bit of value?”

Yu Dule and Guan Xingxin seemed to have reconciled, but the group chat was often very quiet. Occasionally, Yu Dule would chat in the group and suddenly post a screenshot: “Liang Daiwen has never used WeChat’s step tracker, but now we can see him. Before five in the morning, he already has almost two thousand steps. Did you guys get a dog?”

Gu Yi didn’t respond and instead sent an invitation: “Want to come over to my place for the weekend?”

If you’re lucky, you might get a chance to experience why there’s exercise activity recorded at five in the morning.

The two of them didn’t arrive together; Yu Dule had a rare day off, and Guan Xingxin, without makeup, wore a simple linen dress. The group watched a stand-up comedy show, and Gu Yi commented on a female comedian’s routine: “Watch, if she becomes popular in the future, every female comedian talking about feminism will be accused of copying her. That’s how the audience in our country works—there can only be one representative in each genre.”

Yu Dule gave a thumbs up. Gu Yi, munching on fried chicken, mused, “Is there anything better than junk food in this world?”

Guan Xingxin, barefaced, seemed to have removed some gentle mask: “I heard someone say recently that it’s food for poor people, like being rich is some kind of achievement.”

“I think I’ve heard that somewhere before,” Gu Yi said, trying hard to recall. Yu Dule, his face serious, replied, “Don’t look at me, I don’t know.”

He still remembered the shadow of that Maserati driving away. The room fell silent, and Liang Daiwen quietly nudged Gu Yi: “What’s going on with them?”

“They had a fight. Guan Xingxin’s parents are pressuring her to break up and go on blind dates,” Gu Yi mouthed to him.

That night, Gu Yi set up the sleepwalking setup again and invited Yu Dule and Guan Xingxin to stay over, not mentioning anything else. Yu Dule was a bit puzzled: “There are candles on the balcony, whips on the table corner, whistles, and a blanket on the floor with a drill toy. Are you trying to put on some forbidden play?”

Gu Yi didn’t explain and simply went into the bedroom to sleep. Halfway through the night, still groggy, Yu Dule yelled from the living room, “What the hell? Liang Daiwen, are you pulling my blanket off?”

She had been waiting to see the drama unfold. From the bedroom, she peeked out and saw Liang Daiwen lifting Yu Dule’s blanket, holding his phone, checking emails, and with a blank expression, which startled Yu Dule. Guan Xingxin, groggily waking up, happened to see Liang Daiwen chasing Yu Dule as he crawled on the drill toy, which stretched three meters from one end of the living room to the other. Yu Dule stumbled out and collided with the dining table. It didn’t hurt, but the candle in the bowl on the table was knocked over. His chin and teeth were shaking, and instinctively, he rushed toward the door, trying to escape. The alarm went off.

Gu Yi turned off the alarm, and Yu Dule was still trembling. “What is all this? Are you trying to trap us with this setup?”

With his eyes open but still in a dreamlike state, Liang Daiwen, with no aggression, just wandered around the living room, unintentionally chasing Yu Dule. Yu Dule crawled under the dining table, into the study, and was driven out again. Eventually, he climbed over the sofa and hugged Guan Xingxin, terrified to the point of nearly crying. In the dark, Guan Xingxin, with excellent vision, giggled, while Liang Daiwen crawled into a blanket on the floor, fiddled with his phone for a few minutes, and fell asleep. The whole process only had Yu Dule scared out of his wits, not daring to shout for fear of Liang Daiwen’s overreaction. The two girls were laughing so hard their stomachs hurt, and Gu Yi was laughing at the bedroom door, slapping her thigh.

As dawn broke, the three of them hid in the bedroom, and Yu Dule rolled his eyes, nearly looking backward: “Emotional disorder and sleepwalking at the same time?”

“I’ve heard of it,” Gu Yi responded. “Not long ago, Dr. Shen talked about Liang Daiwen sleepwalking while he was in the U.S. He was so afraid of causing harm, he went to the hospital in the middle of the night. Dr. Shen was really scared at the time. Later, they found that Liang Daiwen only wandered around and muttered, with no other reactions.”

“You knew and didn’t tell me?” Gu Yi shoved Guan Xingxin.

“Back then, he was still chasing after you. I was afraid you’d get scared and run away. Poor Yu Dule, who’s usually the pampered one in the locked room, had to experience the fear of being chased by an NPC in someone else’s house.” Guan Xingxin laughed, patting his head, her forehead still sweaty, making it even funnier.

Yu Dule, finally calming down, said, “I wasn’t really scared, but there was a candle in that bowl of rice on the dining table—it felt like a haunted house!”

“Sorry, my mom said that if there are ghosts, that can be used to ward them off.”

“Don’t say anything else, Gu Yi, this story is mine now. I’ve personally suffered through this, so don’t think you can steal my material.”