Chapter 78

Sorry, the robot is temporarily malfunctioning.

In front of the camera, everyone sat around the bonfire, comforting each other, and Guan Xingxin was the first to bring up the past with the music blogger. The flickering fire seemed to stir her emotions: “Being called a third party is something I can’t tolerate. Back then, I actually tried to kill myself with charcoal. A friend saved me, and I’ve never told anyone. Since then, I’ve valued friendship so much, and now I’m really grateful to meet all of you.”

The director shouted cut, and the eight of them changed their expressions. None of them were really familiar with each other, each with their own pretensions. The men liked Guan Xingxin, but the women despised her.

But she no longer cared. Whether she was despised or mocked, she just wanted the attention. In her parents’ eyes, this was “being on TV,” in her friends’ eyes, this was “getting famous,” for the program it was “controversy,” and for the platform, it was “buzz.” But no one saw the truth but her. In the end, the public’s voyeurism would become her personal value, and the things it could bring her were many.

After the second recording session ended, she had called a car in advance. As she stepped out to find it, a familiar Maserati honked at her. Huang Wenda rolled down his window, smoking and greeting her while tapping ash from his cigarette.

Ever since she caught him in a vulnerable moment in his bathtub, this man seemed to have started treating her like a friend. His air of arrogance was nothing more than a deflated balloon to her eyes—his pride and sharp tongue were easily seen through. On their way, he even complained about meetings with investors, saying he shouldn’t have involved so many shareholders. He felt like he was constantly trying to keep these big shots happy and make them “step up” all day long. He also mentioned how there were many recent scandals involving boy bands, affecting idols of all sizes. With a turn of the street, Huang Wenda couldn’t resist making fun of it: It’s just like how everyone is rushing to make low-alcohol drinks without caring about safety—it’s not enough for girls to get slightly tipsy.

Even someone with high standards can feel the urge to complain like any ordinary person. Guan Xingxin asked, “Your words seem less sexist than you’re pretending.”

“What right do I have to put women down? They’re far tougher than you might think. When it comes to danger or opportunity, women often take more risks. Men can be too ruthless sometimes. Women usually show some compassion. A while back, when my partner and I were hiring new staff, we met a woman around 31 years old who seemed pregnant but was trying to hide it. My partner immediately told HR to add an X-ray to her medical checkup—no need to explain why that wouldn’t work for a pregnant woman. She never got hired.

“Jacqueline may be a workaholic, but she’d never pull something like that—she only cares about skills.”

He didn’t hide his admiration for his former boss at all. Guan Xingxin leaned back in the passenger seat. “If you could be as honest with others as you are with me, I feel like most people wouldn’t dislike you so much.”

“You too,” Huang Wenda replied. “If you’d taken off that fake act earlier, maybe you wouldn’t seem like such a pretty face without brains. The director mentioned that the video editing was outsourced to a freelance team—their work is really impressive. Should I ask around and see if I can get them to give you more screen time?”

“It’s not certain if the show will be a hit,” Guan Xingxin thought. Of course it has to succeed; only then can I move out of Jacqueline’s place and rent a bigger house with Yu Dule.

“Don’t underestimate this production team. The director used to work on script-based game shows in Hunan—they were really popular there. Her online views went through the roof! She seems to have given control to her ex-boyfriend now—what was his name again? Something like ‘Yu’.”

Gu Yi took the edited footage to Yu Dule for help checking it over. Despite the heat nearly melting her bones, just thinking about how moved Liang Daiwen would be made it worth running this errand. From afar, she saw Yu Dule storming out of the editing room, his face twisted with anger, slicing through the night like a burning fuse. Recalling what Guan Xingxin had said earlier at Rong Mao’s door, Gu Yi guessed the reason behind his fury in an instant and hurried after him.

“Where does she live?”

In the taxi, Gu Yi stayed silent, too shocked by Yu Dule’s behavior to speak up. He called Guan Xingxin from the car:

“I’m on my way to your place right now. Get down here—I’ve got some questions for you.”

“I know exactly what you want to talk about.”

“You knew about this and didn’t tell me! Were you saving it for last just to screw with me? I’m your boyfriend—how could you...?” Yu Dule couldn’t finish his sentence. “I can’t believe this. This is unacceptable.”

“I’ll be right down,” Guan Xingxin said calmly over the phone. “I’ll come down so you can yell at me all you want.”

When Yu Dule closed the car door, Guan Xingxin hadn’t even taken off her makeup yet. Her face still had a smudged sparkle.

Gu Yi hid far away as Yu Dule spoke almost shakily. “You never told me it was a dating show. When I saw my girlfriend on a singles dating show while reviewing footage, how do you think that made me feel?”

“Sorry.”

“Don’t say sorry—I won’t accept it. Everyone has their limits. Even if I took side jobs to earn extra money, I’d never consider doing a show like this to deceive people. Do you know what sets you apart from me? I work—I trade my skills for the dignity of love. But the way you earn your dignity is by betraying love itself.”

Guan Xingxin was also angered now. “Aren’t there many couples making money off their image these days? As long as I make money, what difference does it make what job I take? Everyone’s deceiving someone—fake numbers, fake appearances, putting on a show. It doesn’t matter as long as we’re still in love. Besides, in the script, I don’t end up with anyone...”

Yu Dule punched through the car window beside him, startling Guan Xingxin and Gu Yi.

Guan Xingxin started crying first. “Doule, you always pushed me away. You said I was free.”

“Right, that’s why I saw everything clearly now.” Yu Dule’s eyes reddened. “From the moment we met, I knew you didn’t have a place for me in your heart. You wavered between me and Lu Ming for so long because I loved you more. If someone better comes along, you’ll leave me too, won’t you? There’s a kind of love that comes with contempt at the same time. Do you dare admit it?”

“I don’t,” Guan Xingxin choked back tears. “I just wanted some attention. Once I had money, I could stand on my own feet. We could be together if we left our parents’ control...”

“You don’t love me, or anyone else. Guan Xingxin, you’ve never realized this.”

“...”

“Let’s break up.”

Yu Dule turned and walked away. Guan Xingxin’s eyes, which seemed to change with every blink—now wet, now cold—showed he understood as well. Gu Yi seemed to grasp the situation too.

Guan Xingxin called out to her, “Little rabbit, it’s not what you think. It absolutely isn’t.”

“I’m not taking sides between you two,” Gu Yi said. “But if I had to choose now, I’d pick my heartbroken old friend.”

She followed Yu Dule. “Want a drink? Should we go to Antelope? Or would you like me to walk with you?”

“No thanks, Rabbit. Can you review the videos in a few days? Right now... I need to edit them.”

Yu Dule turned around, startling Gu Yi—it was the first time she saw him in tears.

Gu Yi returned to the Van Gogh Museum. Liang Daiwen was unusually active; his T-shirt front was soaked, and he greeted her breathlessly. She didn’t mention Yu Dule and Guan Xingxin’s argument but rushed over to hug him instead. Liang Daiwen took a step back. “I’ll take a shower first.”

Even without Yu Dule’s review, Gu Yi did well enough—she added subtitles to all twelve short videos and arranged them by content. The portable hard drive was connected to the computer; Gu Yi waited to surprise Liang Daiwen. He spent an unusually long time in the shower. Gu Yi thought it was strange—Liang Daiwen stood under the spray as if asleep. She opened the bathroom door. “Liang Daiwen, are you okay?”

He opened his eyes, which were bloodshot. “It’s nothing. I’ve just been pulling all-nighters lately—it’s been exhausting.” 

“I’ve got a surprise for you.” Gu Yi reached out and patted Liang Daiwen’s chest, trying to lighten his mood. “Come on, get up. If you don’t, I can’t get anything done.” 

Liang Daiwen entered the study with a towel draped over his head. In the shadowed light, his nose was straight, his features sharp yet clean, his damp eyelashes clumped together. He looked so coldly handsome it was hard to look away. Gu Yi opened a video—it was Liang Daiwen’s self-introduction at the Rongmao Theater. “I edited your accessibility speech video. I removed the part where you kicked us out... Did you record the previous two sharing sessions? I can edit those for you too. I may not have the entertainment effects Yu Dule adds to variety shows, but I’m decent at editing and subtitles. Once we share these online, people searching for related topics will come across your work. It could be a good way to promote it, don’t you think?” 

Liang Daiwen silently watched the screen. Normally, he would show some reaction—he might reach out and pinch her nose in a moment of affection, or perhaps narcissistically say how handsome he looked before teasing her about her mediocre editing skills. But today, there was none of that. 

“Liang Daiwen?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Do I have your permission to post this online?” 

“Sure. Do whatever you want.” 

“...?” 

“Sorry. It’s not that it’s bad—I just don’t feel like watching it right now.” 

“Is it because I interrupted your speech? I edited that part out. I’m sorry—” 

“No, it’s not about that. It’s not your fault.” Liang Daiwen exhaled deeply. “I... I just can’t find the meaning in any of this right now.” 

Gu Yi stared at Liang Daiwen nervously. He sat there silently, water dripping from his bangs onto his face. It wasn’t tears, but the warmth and tenderness he used to exude were gone. 

“Remember when I flew to Beijing that time? I mentioned it before. The teacher I collaborated with on accessible hotel facilities passed away during an accessibility route survey in Dali. He fell into a parking lot pit late at night because a private car had blocked the accessible path, and there were no warning signs in the dark. By the time they found him, he was already gone. He once told me that, even though God had taken away his ability to walk, he still wanted to live a meaningful life and fight for the rights of others with disabilities. But... I think I was too idealistic. This world doesn’t really give the weak a chance. Tactile paving cuts through flowerbeds and newspaper stands; accessible restrooms are used for storage. Design review is just a formality, and behind the supervising engineers are massive profits.” 

“Don’t think like that—” 

“Chen Ba and Chen Ma, Guan Xingxin’s parents, are supervising engineers. Do you think they’re rich by chance? And why do you think their daughter was hit and killed?” Liang Daiwen’s voice turned momentarily cold and merciless. “Shen Zhimin’s medical records include it all. I wasn’t originally interested in these details, but he got drunk and spilled everything to me. He said he liked her but would never be with her because she was too much trouble.” 

Gu Yi froze. Things always seemed to connect in unexpected ways, as if the entangled threads of life inevitably found their origins. 

“Sorry for burdening you with all this. Thanks for the video, but right now... I’m questioning whether any of this is meaningful.” He hadn’t smiled all night, and even when discussing angering topics, he remained unnervingly calm. He still acted like someone in love, still craved to be near Gu Yi, but it was clear his emotional sensitivity was waning. 

Gu Yi felt a pang of panic. “Liang Daiwen, are you okay?” 

“What could be wrong? I’m going to work as usual.” Liang Daiwen spoke indifferently. “Go to sleep. I’m exhausted.” 

She slipped into the bathroom and called Dr. Shen, who picked up instantly. “Gu Yi?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Is something wrong with Liang Daiwen?” 

“Yes...” 

The other end of the line went quiet for a moment. Gu Yi gripped her phone tightly, as if bracing for the other shoe to drop. She wasn’t wrong—something had indeed changed in Liang Daiwen. 

“People with alexithymia have much stronger self-protection mechanisms than others. They’re not accustomed to emotional fluctuations, and their understanding of human nature is linear. So when faced with cruelty, severe trauma, or significant setbacks, they tend to look for fault within themselves. Ordinary people might vent, blame others, or curse fate, but they don’t. Most of them retreat inward and shut their hearts.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“He’d only recovered about 50% to begin with. He still doesn’t fully grasp how the world works. Before, when he wasn’t involved in this kind of work, he didn’t have to face so much darkness. The frustrations of the wealthy were trivial ailments—nothing serious. But now he has emotions, and all he sees is the darker side of society...” Dr. Shen’s voice was tinged with frustration. “He’s my most challenging patient. Not because he’s hard to treat, but because he’s too kind.” 

Her heartbeat seemed to slow in her ears. Gu Yi thought, Take a deep breath. Stay calm. “Will psychological counseling help?” 

“His last girlfriend broke up with him over this. She said it was too exhausting—that he was like a robot, too self-absorbed. But the truth is, Liang Daiwen never thinks about himself, and that’s his biggest problem. I imagine he’s in a lot of pain right now, worried you’ll think he’s strange, and also anxious about not doing his job well. During treatment, he once said he couldn’t imagine doing anything else—that this work felt like his only way to learn to love and, by extension, become human.” 

“That’s... too noble.” Gu Yi bit her lip. “People aren’t that selfless.” 

“Gu Yi, how about we make a bet?” Dr. Shen’s tone was half-joking, half-serious. “If you can stick with Liang Daiwen and not break up with him, I’ll return to China to work in mental health support. No money this time—we’ll bet on my career.” 

People are fascinating creatures. When they lack a clear future or goal, they often use wagers to push themselves forward. Gu Yi replied earnestly, “Whatever you do has nothing to do with me. But Liang Daiwen isn’t a bargaining chip—he’s someone important to me. Giving up on him because of alexithymia would be utterly baseless. Liang Daiwen has worked so hard on accessibility design; dragging you into this is entirely worth it. And you’re not as indifferent to your patients as you pretend. Thank you.” 

After hanging up, she returned to the bedroom, but Liang Daiwen was nowhere to be found. She searched the living room, balcony, study, and walk-in closet... but he was gone. She nearly put on her shoes to go look for him when she heard a soft voice from the bedroom. 

“I’m here.”