Chapter 72

People only reevaluate themselves and those around them when they have strayed so far off their path that they are forced to reconsider.

Guan Xingxin reached out and patted Yu Dule’s head: “If you’re too timid, you might get caught.”

“I’ve moved to a new city every year since I was little, always living in those old houses with dim corridor lights. Walking down the streets at night is really scary.”

In the dawn light, Guan Xingxin’s eyes softened: “You’re surrounded by people who love you, so don’t be afraid.”

Yu Dule, who had been feeling down, licked his lips in a complicated manner after hearing this: “I need to go back to the lab by 8 o’clock. You girls can sleep in the bedroom, I’ll sleep on the couch—Liang Daiwen won’t sleepwalk again, right?”

In the bedroom, the two girls lay side by side, neither of them able to sleep for a while. Guan Xingxin moved closer to Gu Yi: “It feels so nice to sleep next to a girl, the bed feels bigger. Those few minutes just now were probably the happiest moments I’ve had recently.”

“Wasn’t it nice at Jacqueline’s place?”

“It was, but it felt like our energies didn’t match. I think she really hates me.”

“No, she doesn’t. She dislikes everyone,” Gu Yi said, propping her head on her arm in the dark.

“My mom sent me a bunch of men’s WeChat IDs, telling me to go on blind dates. She wants me to break up with Yu Dule, start a new relationship, and then go back to my hometown. Their profile pictures are all weird—some are in suits posing, some are landscape photos, and some are just ridiculous memes. I didn’t respond, but my parents’ WeChat group exploded with messages, trying to convince me to go back. The feeling of four people flooding the chat—it’s like even if you block them, new messages keep coming in, and as soon as you touch your phone, you can see them.” Seeing Gu Yi with her eyes closed, she apologized, “Sorry for complaining to you. People who are always filled with negative energy are probably annoying, right?”

“Have you ever thought that maybe you’re not rejecting them firmly enough? That’s why they keep stepping all over you.”

“I’ve never even lived in an old house; every time I move, there’s an elevator. To lower my standard of living just to go against my parents—honestly, I couldn’t do it before,” Guan Xingxin said. “It’s really painful to stay stuck like this, and you must look down on me too.”

Gu Yi didn’t reply. After turning 25, she didn’t have the patience to tolerate stupidity and procrastination in the friends she made. The world of adults was based on interests and exchanges. She had no ulterior motive with Guan Xingxin, but she didn’t want her to keep wallowing in her troubles and blaming the world. It was like the long comic she drew recently: the girl didn’t want to be friends with a beautiful woman not because of jealousy over her looks, but because she realized that the beauty either didn’t have the emotional intelligence and abilities to match, only good for being a maid or dragging her down; or that the person wasn’t easy to deal with. The first time Gu Yi met Guan Xingxin, she was smart, clear-headed, and gentle, making both Lu Ming and Yu Dule fall for her, someone far beyond their reach. But after being tied down by her parents and losing her job, the halo that once belonged to a goddess had indeed dimmed, becoming as cumbersome as a keychain.

She would never say this out loud; it was too cruel. Always wanting to lend a hand to friends in the dark, she checked her phone: “There’s a 30th-anniversary party for ‘Yi Zhou’ this Thursday night. Want to come with me? I can bring you.”

“That’s totally fine.” Lying beside her, Guan Xingxin could feel her excitement. “Do we need to do anything? Is there a dress code?”

“...Just dress however you like, since most of the time will be spent wandering around taking pictures. That’s how influencers do it—these events just set up a platform for everyone to create data.”

Guan Xingxin nodded, though it wasn’t directed at Gu Yi. Every word she said now felt like it was turning her into the kind of person Gu Yi had described—wandering aimlessly, doing nothing, wasting time with nothing but appearance.

Originally, Gu Yi had only planned to bring Liang Daiwen. The celebrity dinner would be the next day, with a pre-party for media and partner brands to warm up. The invitation specifically mentioned “Google Android Accessibility Team Leader, Liang Daiwen” to highlight his professionalism. As for Guan Xingxin, because she hadn’t been included on the invitation list in advance, and with Gu Yi busy at the venue, Guan Xingxin, dressed up but awkwardly standing by the door, couldn’t reach Gu Yi’s phone. While the influencers queued to check in, Huang Wendai walked in directly from the VIP channel, paused, and looked at Guan Xingxin before calmly telling his manager, “She’s with me.”

Guan Xingxin followed behind Huang Wendai. The 1.83-meter-tall man looked lean from behind, with some white hair at his temples, yet still energetic. He looked like the same person she had seen in front of Jacqueline’s house that day, but with more authority. He said, “So, we meet again.”

Guan Xingxin didn’t speak, feeling a bit regretful about coming along. It felt awful to be rejected at the door only to be claimed by someone else.

“Come on, smile. Every time I see you, it’s like I’ve offended you—show up without an invitation, and if it weren’t for me, how would you have gotten in? Just like those empty influencers.”

“I was on the phone with a friend.”

“Your friend’s unreliable. Try another one.”

She immediately spotted Gu Yi and rushed toward her without a word. Huang Wendai, who cared a lot about face, only glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. He wasn’t about to claim someone who was being ignored, and went to sit with Roger, chatting confidently with him. Soon, a few influencers with backless dresses sat beside him, sipping red wine, instructing photographers for posed shots, creating a fake atmosphere of celebrity. He had seen it all before. The woman in a reflective mermaid-style dress at a table in the distance, sitting quietly and observing the people around her, looked a bit timid—completely out of place for this event.

Huang Wendai couldn’t help but look at her a few more times, intrigued by something he hadn’t seen before. At the same table, Director Peng was fretting over a reality dating show. The broadcast schedule had been set, but they had lost a female cast member at the last minute and urgently needed a beauty with a standout personality. He was so stressed, his hair falling out. The influencers chattered away, discussing their follower numbers, each boasting in a peculiar manner—some were self-righteous, some built their fame from scratch, while others claimed to have few fans but were extremely dedicated to creating drama, clearly aiming to be the center of attention. The director waved his hand, “Forget it, we need a real amateur. Controversy doesn’t matter, as long as she’s pretty. You’re all too polished, you’re too eager to be famous.”

Jacqueline arrived, followed by two female subordinates. One was well-dressed and polite, but her clothes didn’t match her stature—people who wore fake high-end brands never had the confidence to match their outfits; the other wore a ponytail and dressed casually but had an energetic spirit, quirky and lively. As for Jacqueline, she was as sharp and capable as always, greeting every media guest. When her gaze fell on Huang Wendai, she nodded and walked on.

When she turned around, the mermaid-dressed woman was now sitting next to a man with an expressionless face. The woman seemed relieved, chatting happily while the man casually scratched his nose, looking at the ponytail woman who was running around handling the event. Huang Wendai had seen the comics the ponytail woman drew and reposted them. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was Jacqueline’s most prized employee now.

Back when Jacqueline and he first came to Shanghai, there wasn’t even high-speed rail. They had taken an eight-hour hard sleeper ride, and his back ached from it. She had excitedly sat by the train window to enjoy the scenery, and they didn’t eat anything along the way. On their first night in Shanghai, they stayed at the Sheraton. It was her first time in a hotel, and everything was fresh and new to her—she’d never seen such things before. When they left, she wanted to take some hotel amenities, but he stopped her. Noble people only take wealth and experience with them, not useless scraps. At that time, he was arrogant, bringing his work and a woman to Shanghai, full of confidence. His dad, who rarely came home, insisted on having all his demands met. His mom, who disliked his dad, saw all his strengths as flaws, and eventually remarried abroad. He never worried about money; he saw Jacqueline, who had no family, as a companion he could share his journey with. In the first three years in Shanghai, they relied on each other, both full of drive for their careers, and he still eagerly desired her body at night, loving her desperately. At 26, he began thinking about marriage—not out of love, but out of sympathy for Jacqueline. Being a housewife sounded good; he’d earned enough money, worked hard for three years, only to end up with polycystic ovary syndrome and breast nodules—there was no need for this for artists and advertisers. Completely unnecessary.

But the way she resisted herself was by packing her bag with whole strips of birth control pills after leaving the hospital.

Jacqueline gave a speech on stage about “One Week” and its thirty-year history. The teleprompter was on the other side of the venue, and she held the remote control in her hand. While everyone else read from prepared scripts, she was the only one who didn’t need to. Huang Wendá was sitting in the audience, so of course, she wouldn’t do something that seemed nervous. Her voice used to be less deep and lacked the authority it had now. During her five years with One Week, she shed the restlessness and inflated values Huang Wendá had taught her. The 1,800 days she spent with the magazine, holding full control, were fulfilling—especially in the year she took over, when print media had already lost much influence. Advertisements still came through the magazine, but sales had already dropped significantly. That year, she boldly invited top celebrities to sell products, using star power to drive sales. She switched most of the practical advertising to new media, making One Week the first to see profits double compared to the other magazines in the group. The rule Huang Wendá taught her was that anything without value should be discarded, including relationships. She had lived by this belief for a long time, and now, she had no real friends. Her own motto was that career and money could take her far, while unstable relationships and marriage would weigh her down.

She deeply despised being burdened by love and responsibility. Once a woman got involved with those two things, her maternal instincts would run wild. The workplace didn’t need maternal love—men became more authoritative with a family, but women lost everything they earned once they had one. She thought about these old sayings as she listened to the applause, hearing people’s respect for her abilities. But she wasn’t really happy—there was a patriarchy where the editor-in-chief could be replaced at any time, a constantly changing industry, and a not-so-bright team. The challenges had become the norm, but they also felt boring.

Sitting at the same table as Huang Wendá, she spotted Xu Guanyue in the distance. It had been a long time since they last met, and her temples throbbed. Xu Guanyue was looking at Liang Daiwen across the table. When he noticed her gaze, he blinked, then quickly turned his eyes away. Liang Daiwen stared straight ahead at his glass, his companion a female internet celebrity in a short skirt. He seemed uneasy and stood up to quietly leave the venue. Just as he did, Gu Yi was sneaking outside, nibbling on a Madeleine cake she had snuck from her pocket during the banquet.

“Are you hungry?”

“I’ve been busy all day, didn’t even drink a sip of water. Had to arrange hotel bookings and airport transfers for the big shots,” Gu Yi kicked her ankles idly. “Who invented high heels? They’re torture for the body. Isn’t the event kind of boring?”

“It’s okay, but the girls’ skirts are a bit short.”

“Are you fainting from the legs again?” Gu Yi patted Liang Daiwen’s back. “You’re really as abstinent as ever.”

“Did I sleepwalk again the other day?”

“You scared Yu Dule, though it’s fine. He said it was better when the weather cools down. You were using your phone to light your face, and it looked like something out of a horror movie, so sudden.”

Liang Daiwen didn’t speak. Even though they were now “boyfriend and girlfriend,” Gu Yi still had many moments where she didn’t quite understand him. For instance, since their relationship began, he had become more and more silent. Work seemed to stress him out, and when other love-struck girls saw him, they might think he wasn’t attentive or passionate enough. Her instincts told her that work was the cause of his worries. She poked his shoulder, “What’s bothering you? Just tell me.”

“Nothing, there are too few people in this field, no like-minded people, and no mainstream publicity. I used to think getting into the industry was enough, but now that I’m a designer for accessible design, I feel like I’m being isolated as if I’m a disabled person.”

Gu Yi was fascinated by this straightforward, focused man, and reached out to pinch his nose. When she heard the words “stand-up comedy,” she pulled her hand back and rushed into the venue. It was the comedian who had gained popularity from a recent variety show. This should be his commercial performance, and Gu Yi stood at the door, feeling conflicted. She couldn’t approach him as a fellow comedian in her own working environment, only able to watch from a distance. His routine was excellent—better than hers by several rounds. The audience laughed, and the applause was thunderous. After being on the show, the audience was sophisticated and refined. His jokes had become famous, and his audience appeal was incredible. What was even more impressive was that he had never done stand-up before; he only started writing jokes as a hobby a year ago, and his performance was so powerful it was enviable.

Once the set finished, Gu Yi couldn’t resist going over to greet him. As expected, the actor only saw her as an enthusiastic audience member, and they walked out together with internet celebrities trailing behind, chasing after him due to his variety show fame. Hearing that Gu Yi also liked stand-up comedy, he asked, “Did you go to the March show in Tokyo at Chapelle?”

Gu Yi shook her head but added, “I got an offer from your company, and I’ll be working in new media next.”

Just as she finished speaking, Jacqueline pushed open the door from the venue. Gu Yi was startled, her heart breaking at the timing. Jacqueline didn’t hear what was said, as Huang Wendá was right behind her, saying, “You should give me an answer. I’ve been chasing you for so long. So many young men aren’t married, yet you still must have someone in your heart. If it’s not me, then who else?”

“After all these years, you’re still so confident. If you wanted to get married, you’d have found someone young and beautiful by now. Don’t follow me. I’m not interested in marriage. I don’t care for a life of housework and children.”

“Jacqueline,” Huang Wendá stopped, his tone serious. “There are plenty of women like this. If I really wanted to get married and have kids, I’d have grandchildren by now. But I can’t forget you. Every time I go on a business trip to Shanghai, it feels like a place of sorrow. I even pause at the pedestrian overpass. You may not remember this, but I do, and I won’t forget. You can say whatever you want to me.”

The cold woman turned her head, smiling faintly. “If you had said this when I still had expectations for you, maybe things would be different. But after I brought a pregnancy test to find you the last time, if you had this awareness now, without another woman by your side, we wouldn’t have had to sever ties.”

“That’s because you were so adamant about not marrying me!” Huang Wendá exclaimed. “Never mind, it doesn’t matter anymore. Time has passed. I just want to ask, do you still have feelings for me?”

Hiding behind the door, Gu Yi was nervous. Jacqueline said firmly, “No. Hearts change, and you’re not the only one with unforgettable memories.”

A hand rested on Gu Yi’s shoulder, it was Xu Guanyue. He gently placed his other hand over his lips, signaling “shh,” but it still exposed their target, and Jacqueline noticed. The wind blew the curtains as the host of the event continued thanking the sponsors. Everyone’s gaze was directed elsewhere. Gu Yi noticed Liang Daiwen disappearing from view. Xu Guanyue tightened his grip on Gu Yi’s shoulder and smiled subtly at Jacqueline. Jacqueline gazed at Xu Guanyue with a touch of sorrow, her eyes lingering on his hand resting on Gu Yi’s shoulder, a far more emotional expression than she had when looking at Huang Wenda.

Huang Wenda turned back into the venue, drinking two strong cups of alcohol, just in time to bump into Guan Xingxin, who was picking up her bag and preparing to leave. Her friends had disappeared, the influencers were busy expanding their businesses, and they had no interest in befriending her. Guan Xingxin sat alone, trying to act as though she had enjoyed herself, when she saw Huang Wenda. For a moment, she felt a sense of solidarity in misfortune. The two who had entered together now left together. She curiously asked, “What happened? Why do you look so upset?”

Jacqueline once had long hair, her innocent and pure look not unlike the girl in front of her, but her appearance fell short in comparison. The girl in front had bright black eyes, staring directly at him with a purity that seemed to grasp his heart, like a gentle hand reaching for his soul. Her lips were red, freshly re-applied with lipstick, like ripe cherries. With this thought, he leaned in and kissed Guan Xingxin roughly, the alcohol and force making the kiss impossible to resist. His lower lip bit down with pressure, direct in its offense. Guan Xingxin struggled, her lipstick smudging to the corner of her mouth. Her lips swelled quickly, and she glared at him angrily, “Are you out of your mind?”

She was beautiful, really beautiful, but like a rose with thorns. The gentleness that surrounded her made her annoying, but right now, her anger was just perfect. The way she gasped for breath was also just right. He had never been wrong about the way he saw people. Huang Wenda pulled Guan Xingxin away, his steps quick, completely ignoring her struggles. He approached a director from their table and introduced her as though he were recommending Jacqueline once before: “Director Peng, there’s a missing person for the dating reality show, isn’t there? I highly recommend this one.”

Guan Xingxin dazedly looked at Huang Wenda and then at the director, who was sizing her up. She opened her WeChat contact card and sent it to him. The friend who accepted was labeled as Director Peng, who then sent her a variety show introduction. She found it ridiculous and tried to refuse, claiming she had a boyfriend. Director Peng said it didn’t matter, she could keep it a secret. The show was about effects, and reality shows were scripted aside from the real people. Would she fall in love? If so, that was enough.

Huang Wenda provocatively squeezed her shoulder, “Don’t underestimate this girl. She’s sharp-tongued.”

This moment was like the suffocating feeling from when she burned charcoal, when a person had veered so far off course, they could only reevaluate themselves and the people around them. Guan Xingxin clutched her phone, her messages from Director Peng and a group of strange matchmaking men mixing together. When at rock bottom, there was nothing that couldn’t be done. The obedient, sharp-witted girl had done enough.

As for Gu Yi, she was still looking for Liang Daiwen. The event was on the fifth floor, and as she entered the elevator, she stepped out onto a small balcony between the fifth and sixth floors. The warm wind blew into her suit and gave her a clear view of the area ahead. Liang Daiwen was being pulled away by Zhang Qingya, who was wiping her tears. She said, “I miss you so much. If the pressure gets too much, come back to me. You relied on me so much in CMU, and I’m always here for you. After all, I’m the one who understands you best.”

Liang Daiwen’s back was silent, like a letter whose words were illegible.