Chapter 86

Women who treat their careers as lifelong companions see men as just plot points in their urban stories—in other words, passersby.

“Why are you calling me at night? Don’t you have anything better to do? Can’t you hire new employees? I’ve quit, I’m not getting paid this week, why are you still bombarding me with work at midnight?”

“This is to show my interest in buying. Didn’t you hear me say I want to buy your public account? A once-famous account with a subtitle group, probably ten times the followers in the backend, sold for 300,000. My offer is very reasonable, are you willing to sell?”

They were speaking past each other. The heat in her body slowly faded, and Gu Yi almost cried: “Can’t you call during the day?”

“Too busy during the day.” Jacqueline’s keyboard clicked loudly, clearly still in the Alaska office: “Didn’t I say we could drink? I haven’t invited you out, just calling for a chat—You’re not busy with your boyfriend, are you?”

Liang Daiwen, who had opened the book, was reading one titled Self-Control. Jacqueline’s voice on the other end was cold: “The new content is really good, want me to pay for the rights and re-release it on Bypass?”

Gu Yi closed her eyes: “Why suddenly want to buy my account? Bypass’ long comics have already been popular.”

“Can’t find anyone to continue drawing. Even new employees want 30,000 a month, it’s outrageous.”

“Then just pay the salary.”

“If you were generous, you could have paid when you were still at the company, no need to wait for new recruits. You’re already a leader at the new company, don’t you know there’s a quarterly budget?”

Gu Yi bit her lip, holding back a retort: “Sorry, I was just the content editor.”

There was a moment of silence on the other end. The lonely woman probably looked very pale at this moment, in her large, cold office, eating salad, with no appetite, spending her energy in the gym and then back to the office, giving all her energy to work. The calls kept coming, maybe she saw Gu Yi as her only friend, her need to talk with almost no restraint. The opportunity for conversation was about price.

She was so lonely, it almost felt pathetic. Gu Yi wouldn’t expose it, just lying in bed and changing position: “Big boss, 300,000 to buy my account, you’re too generous. It’s just a life-recording account. If you buy it, I’ll start another one. Will you keep chasing me?”

“Not going to happen. You can keep drawing on your current official account.”

“You sure know how to play. So, you’re telling me that if I sell you something, it comes with after-sales service?”

“I’m not refusing to pay.”

“I knew there was something fishy about you willing to spend so much.”

“I’ll say it again, you’re the content IP. Thirty thousand to buy your content, I’m willing.”

Moved by the words but still a bit confused, Liang Daiwen passed his phone screen over to her. It showed three words: “Reject her.”

Gu Yi gently hung up the phone. The stethoscope was placed beside the pillow, and both of them temporarily lost interest. After pulling the blanket over them, Gu Yi was still amazed: “Thirty thousand! I’ve never seen that much money in my life.”

“Want it? I’ll give it to you. If you really wanted to make advertisements and earn that money, you would have figured it out by now. Getting a little ad in a magazine is easy enough, right? You’re obsessed with content, just focus on writing what you really want.”

Though grateful, Gu Yi swallowed her tears—was she really worth this much? How had she never realized it until now?

Liang Daiwen pinched her nose. “Stop obsessing over money. You don’t need to have a poor image. You’re good at telling stories, think of other sources for your material.”

He said that, then swiftly wrapped her in the blanket, their skin rubbing together as they settled in, the soft sound of the stethoscope’s metal parts filtering through—the robot Liang Daiwen was no longer giving her a chance to think about work.

Three months into her new job, Gu Yi had already accumulated 50 original pieces of content. The menu bar for her official account was also categorized as originally planned, and the number of readers had grown. The newly opened section for submitting jokes was getting so many entries that it required a separate team for review. As for her task—after the recording of the variety show, she had to start conducting serious interviews with the participating celebrities. Some stand-up comedians preferred to add deeper meaning to their scripts, so her writing had to match the depth they wanted; others preferred humor and didn’t want to reveal too much of their personal feelings, so their dialogue had to remain intact; some were more opinionated, so she let them express their thoughts freely—every interview was an excuse to drink, whether it was on the way, in a park, at a bar, or in a secure passage. Gu Yi, wearing canvas shoes, felt satisfied each time she heard the “pop” of a beer cap being opened. This was the kind of work she wanted.

Jacqueline indeed taught her a standard set of professional skills: quick client responses, consistent content output, simple but impactful aesthetics, and deep exploration of the same field. Though her words could be harsh and sometimes dismissive, this training allowed Gu Yi to confidently lead a team of young content creators without getting flustered.

She really should have a good talk with Jacqueline.

Leaving work an hour early, Gu Yi returned to her former workplace, planning to have a conversation with Jacqueline. Jacqueline was in her Alaska office scolding people, and after exchanging greetings with her old colleagues, Gu Yi sat next to a co-worker who had a lip ring. Upon seeing her, he smiled warmly and shared some fresh gossip: Pony had recently been confronted by Richard’s wife from the marketing department, who dragged her by the hair into the office after discovering their chats on Tinder. They only discussed work on WeChat, but their Tinder messages were full of flirtations. The lip-ringed guy pointed to the Alaska office: “Jacqueline’s been cracking down on her work lately, pushing her to submit pieces in the group, but guess what? The last few pieces with ads actually performed really well.”

Gu Yi looked over at Pony in the small meeting room on the first floor, clearly unaffected by the incident. She was serious in the meeting. “Pony isn’t planning to quit, is she?”

“Where would she go? It’s hard to find a job at thirty. She’s one of Jacqueline’s key employees now, there’s no one else to take your place after you left. Pony complained to me, saying Tinder chats used to be romantic, but now with her husband, there’s no passion. This ‘mind fuck’ she stole gave her some inspiration—I think there’s some truth to it.”

That excuse seemed fresh to Gu Yi.

Jacqueline didn’t finish her work until 7 PM, forcing Gu Yi to wait for two hours in the office of the magazine. When they finally met, she got straight to the point: “How about selling me your account? I can transfer thirty thousand to you right now, and you can still operate it. I’ll cover the drawing costs as usual.”

Gu Yi finally understood—she had a whole series of resources for placing ads, and the account was just a platform. But she was still confused: “You already have so many official Weibo accounts. Why bother with mine?”

“I need something interesting. Regular accounts focus on vertical content, which makes it easier to monetize later. But the kind of interesting content you have is rare, and we could also sell the story rights—Lindsey, think fast.”

Compared to just talking about beauty, fashion, finance, and motivational quotes, Gu Yi did maintain some consistency in her content despite its lack of unity: interesting stories, unique but unattractive drawings, and stand-up comedy-like material. Bypass once had such exposure but now could only return to the old mode of “text + opinions,” with its soul still residing in her work. She also understood the underlying meaning—what Jacqueline wanted was not just the story but the money.

Better to have the guts of Huang Wendao!

Thinking this, Gu Yi evaded the offer: “Forget it. Small comics are just for fun. I’m not interested in making money from them. ‘Making money’ isn’t really a concept that fits me. I just want to focus on content.”

“Looks like your new job pays well. Think it over, if you ever decide to take on advertising, come talk to me.”

Gu Yi had to admit, Jacqueline knew how to find business opportunities and exploit others’ value. She’d probably be thriving at sixty too—this restless woman would remain forever youthful. But now, as Jacqueline picked up her gym bag and then set it down, secretly glancing at Gu Yi, opening and closing her computer, Gu Yi saw through her loneliness: “Want to grab a drink?”

“Let’s have it at my place. I’m tired of dancing at the bar.”

At home, Jacqueline was much more restrained when drinking. Upon entering her upscale apartment, Gu Yi still felt that living alone was too extravagant. Jacqueline just said, “That’s right, the bigger and more luxurious the place, the more oppressive it feels. But at this age, decorating my life according to my abilities is the most energy-efficient, and that way, I can attract like-minded companions.”

In the open wardrobe, there were shirts of a male size, neatly ironed, and even a square, perfectly packaged pair of men’s underwear. Jacqueline didn’t bother closing the wardrobe door. “Just to clarify, I don’t want you to misunderstand—it’s nothing serious, I just occasionally have a boyfriend.”

These words carried deeper meaning. Gu Yi sat on the couch and took a swig of his drink. “Okay, I got it. Please, don’t call me after dark, it really disrupts my life.”

“Oh,” Jacqueline merely smiled nonchalantly, a smile very much like Xu Guanrui’s. “The less developed a person’s spiritual world is, the more they crave relationships. Once you become truly independent, you’ll realize that whether it’s a true soulmate you couldn’t be with or someone who briefly stirred emotions in you, they’re just stories— in other words, passersby.”

“Don’t be so harsh.” Gu Yi sank deeper into the couch, taking another drink. “Respect love a little more.”

“As a friend and your former boss, I’ll remind you, Lindsey,” Jacqueline’s voice turned serious. “No matter how good your relationship with others is, always depend on yourself.”

Gu Yi clinked his glass with hers. Having experienced deep, unforgettable love, she now chose to trust only herself, free from emotional burdens or familial constraints. A wealthy life shielded her from worldly judgments. Jacqueline forged ahead with determination, and no woman, seeing her at a similar age, would not hesitate and think, “If I had chosen my career, would I have been like this?” Strictly speaking, Gu Yi shouldn’t even be considered Jacqueline’s friend; this drinking session would likely be the only one. Over time, Jacqueline would have new subordinates, and they’d no longer need each other, so their contact would fade. But as Gu Yi thought of this, a competitive spirit sparked within her. At least, she wanted to strive until Jacqueline occasionally thought of her as a friend worthy of sharing a drink.

Just as this thought crossed her mind, Jacqueline, slightly drunk, began acting out. This middle-aged woman, incredibly, was projecting the content of her phone onto the TV screen at home. She wasn’t cautious about Gu Yi seeing her messages, as the WeChat was full of work-related group chats. Out of professional sensitivity, Jacqueline opened the trending searches on Weibo, where she saw Guan Xingxin’s name. It was among the top fifty trending, but one had to search carefully to find it—still, it was noteworthy. The post was from various gossip marketing accounts, cutting out a section of Guan Xingxin’s interview, with the caption: “This seems like a bit of both, right? What do you all think?”

Someone else commented, asking in confusion, “The VC guy and the finance girl were torn apart because of you, and now the finance girl even has a sympathy trending topic. Everyone’s attacking you—why didn’t you choose anyone in the end? All those seductive moves were your shining moments on the show.”

Guan Xingxin still smiled, but internally, she was truly annoyed. “When men win, they’re adored. When women win, they’re only hated by men. Being scheming, playing tricks, involved in palace drama—it’s as though women can only win if they abandon competition, chosen by a man—that’s victory. I don’t want to end up in such a result. They’re free to like me, and I’m grateful, but using so many tricks to make men fall for me and then getting criticized no matter who I pick—so what? I just don’t want to pick anyone.”

After watching the video, Gu Yi clapped in front of the TV. “She’s grown.”

Jacqueline opened Guan Xingxin’s Weibo, where many men were mocking her in the comments, turning the “both” comment into a major topic. The top comment read, “She doesn’t even look that great, and yet guys are fighting over her?” Guan Xingxin directly replied, “People like you are animals, and the country even gave you an ID card.”

This was the first and only time Gu Yi saw Guan Xingxin curse at someone. She was stunned for a few seconds when she received a text from Yu Dule: “I’ll finish editing the video next Thursday. Can I join you guys for an escape room?”

“Of course,” Gu Yi replied immediately, afraid that Yu Dule might lose his sanity locked in the editing room. She agreed readily. Plus, she was curious about how Liang Daiwen’s emotional expression disorder recovery was going. Just thinking of Liang Daiwen made her feel uneasy, and she stood up, clearing her throat. “I should get going.”

It wasn’t just longing for Liang Daiwen, but also wanting to play... with the stethoscope.

The next week, at the “One Week” fashion blogger operation talk, Jacqueline invited several familiar bloggers to share on stage. The venue had 300 people, all from media and MCN companies, with flashes of cameras everywhere. Jacqueline received a phone call, and seeing the number, she became impatient. “What is it?”

Huang Wenduo, driving, immediately spoke. “Want to come work at my company? I pushed out my partner. That guy is always causing trouble. He can’t handle the office politics with just a team of ten. The company doesn’t hire people over thirty now, but we’re expanding HR, talking to employees and forming cliques. I spent two months getting him impeached. Anyway, we need people now, do you want to come?”

“You’re crazy. You’re still thinking about me?”

“I’m not thinking about you; I’m thinking about your work ability,” Huang Wenduo honked the horn, clearly irritated. “I’ve realized recently that you’re the only one left with the ability to work and willing to learn in a new field. I’m willing to adjust the equity.”

“Don’t even think about me. I can’t leave my editor-in-chief position at One Week.”

“Roger, with his daddy issues, doesn’t need to be followed. I know you have plenty of profitable accounts, and you wouldn’t be at a loss with us. His budget is so low, he can’t even keep employees. In an industry that’s on the decline, he can’t even develop useful junior staff. And the office has too many favorites. You remember last year when he almost kicked you out of your editor position?”

Jacqueline glanced at the influencer going on stage, remaining silent. Huang Wenduo had an uncanny ability to see through people and situations. He’d noticed her struggles at “One Week” just from occasional office visits and drinking with Roger. How could he be so sharp? As she thought about this, she pinched her fingers. “As long as you don’t try to rekindle old flames, I might consider it.”

Laughter came from the other end of the line, but the tone was sincere. “As long as you’re willing. Now it’s a partnership. I trust you one hundred percent. We’ll have plenty of chances to argue over work. But— I won’t pursue you again, don’t worry.”

This statement made Jacqueline pause. After a long silence, Huang Wenduo seemed to have stopped the car. “Nothing else, I’ll hang up now. Let me know when you decide.”

Jacqueline snapped out of her daze and replied, “Okay.”

After hanging up, Huang Wendà stood at the door of the old house, glanced at the security camera, and knocked on the door. “Guan Xingxin, open the door.”