Chapter 9

To live in the city is to become part of consumption—either this part or that part.

Perhaps she couldn’t get used to living in the studio, so Liang Daiwen came back.

Gu Yi’s whole life rhythm was thrown off. Living under the same roof with a man was like playing real-life CS, being chased into a corner with no way to escape and no bullets left—just waiting to be slaughtered. Liang Daiwen was a typical male animal. He would do push-ups in the bedroom, and after fifty, he would grunt with each rep, and it was enough to make her feel dirty. He wore T-shirts and sweatpants with broad shoulders and long legs, walking around the room, exposing only his forearms and neck. Gu Yi felt like this was a form of seduction, especially at midnight when Liang Daiwen liked to drink water in the kitchen. There was a high stool by the kitchen island, and when Gu Yi woke up and saw Liang Daiwen’s shadow drinking water, she always felt that he only came out to watch her. It was the middle of the night, so if he wasn’t a pervert, what else could he be?

After that, she started sleeping in sweatpants.

But after worrying for a few days, Gu Yi realized that Liang Daiwen completely treated her like air. Apart from when they needed to communicate in the bathroom, his time management was extremely precise. He finished all his tasks before greeting her. He brought work back to the study, shut the door, and seriously made phone calls and typed away on the keyboard. He wouldn’t come out even after she fell asleep. She took over the couch, and occasionally he would come to the living room to lift dumbbells, completely focused, not even sparing a glance at her. Sometimes, a meter away, he would sit on a stool reading, looking absentminded but with pure eyes, as if in deep meditation. She kindly offered him two cups of trendy milk tea as a test, but Liang Daiwen glanced at the ingredients list: “Glutinous rice, white sugar, meat floss, egg yolk crisps—are you mixing water with rice cakes?”

“… It’s really delicious.”

“I’m not interested in things with too many additives.”

“Then… want to go out to eat together?”

“If there’s a stand-up comedy show, you can call me. If not, forget it, I’m busy.”

Do I have no gender in your eyes?

The rain kept getting heavier, and Gu Yi was jolted awake by the sound of Liang Daiwen bumping into the doorframe without his glasses, thinking it was thunder. She sat up on the couch, still shaken, confirming that Liang Daiwen hadn’t come out of the bedroom. She stared at the gray-brown ceiling, her pupils shaking. She sent a message to Yu Dule: “Teacher Yu, what does it mean when you wake up at a critical moment in a spring dream?”

“It doesn’t mean anything. It’s probably a crash due to missing materials in the rendering module.”

Gu Yi finally realized, this was something they often encountered in the editing room during their internship. He was mocking her lack of a sexual life, having never seen Liang Daiwen naked, and watching too few adult films. She lay there, disgusted with herself, having a spring dream while living under someone else’s roof and acting like the homeowner. How could she still want to take advantage of everything? She hadn’t even thought about the moral shame she should be carrying.

Yu Dule, however, said, “It’s normal. When you like someone, you push the boundaries of what’s immoral.”

She clicked her tongue. “This joke is for you. Liang Daiwen is a regular at ounce, I can’t use him. Although he’s emotionless, as long as he sees it, he’ll know I’m talking about him.”

“Have you still made no substantial progress with him?”

“I’m sleeping on the couch.” Gu Yi turned over and buried herself in the cushions, her phone screen tapping away: “This couch is so comfortable, I’m guessing it’s softer than the mattress. Liang Daiwen’s body isn’t even worth mentioning compared to this couch.”

Yu Dule replied, “You know, Gu Yi, Liang Daiwen could ignore you, but you’re so desperate now.”

She buried herself further into the couch, her heart still pounding. It felt like the sensation of whispering with a desk mate and suddenly looking up to see the class teacher. She had done something wrong, but it wasn’t too serious—yet enough to make her feel anxious and guilty. She couldn’t remember the dream clearly, but what was unforgettable was the version of Liang Daiwen in the dream, with eyes that were especially captivating.

Yu Dule interrupted her thoughts: “Cadillac has a stand-up comedy gig, want to come? It’s a thousand yuan. I’m not interested in cars, and I can’t write jokes.”

“Let’s go, I’ll write.”

“For money, you’ll do anything.”

“Because it doesn’t intersect with our private lives.” Gu Yi already had a million ideas swirling in her head, excitedly pacing on the ground, her whole being like an evolving digital monster: “My boss and colleagues aren’t interested in cars, isn’t this the best opportunity for me to make some extra cash?”

“Our usual means of transportation are a bicycle and an electric scooter. How are we supposed to get to Cadillac to tell jokes?” 

“Do I need to go to NASA to talk about the universe?” Gu Yi said. “It’s a five-minute thing, I just need to make the people in the audience laugh and set the mood. They’re there to buy a car, not to hear jokes, so as long as there’s no awkward silence, it’s fine.” 

She immediately started watching a Cadillac introduction video on Bilibili, and Liang Daiwen didn’t even notice. After a few minutes, she distilled a bunch of keywords: luxury, grandeur, bath center. 

Talking about a bath center in their 4S shop felt like walking into a trap. Liang Daiwen’s voice sprayed into her ear: “You’ve already started venturing into the car industry?” 

“Have you ever heard of someone getting into the car industry and only making a thousand bucks?” Gu Yi said, then suddenly realized—why was there a man talking into her ear in the middle of the night?! 

But the person involved didn’t seem to care. “That’s a high value. KFC pays 10 bucks an hour, and you’re making 200 per minute.” 

Forget it, Liang Daiwen didn’t seem to think of it that way. Gu Yi stretched and yawned. “Well, that’s because it’s a 4S shop. At times like this, you realize that choosing is more important than hard work. At the company’s annual meeting, we get 800 or 1000, but in regular comedy clubs, 200 bucks is the standard.” Gu Yi pointed at the screen. “So, what do you think? Want to come and watch my performance? No selection needed, just be in the audience to help me fill the seats.” 

“Oh.” 

“I’ve noticed that you really like watching my shows.” Gu Yi turned around, expecting some flirtatious response from Liang Daiwen. 

Liang Daiwen took a sip of water and went back to his bedroom, leaving her with a silent back. 

After the meeting, Gu Yi sneaked in some time at the office, watching TV commercials for various car brands and noting down keywords for her routine jokes. Jacqueline’s message came: “Gu Yi, come to my office.” 

Being called by her Chinese name was usually bad news. Gu Yi’s heart sank—had her joke writing been discovered? Walking into the office, she saw Jacqueline’s icy expression, and immediately understood where the term “frozen age” came from. 

“This afternoon, three female authors are coming for an interview. Give these to them and say they are gifts from me.” 

On the table was a Bulgari perfume set, more luxurious than what one would find at the airport duty-free shop, a standard PR package. Jacqueline liked to build relationships like this, but sending such a small set herself would lower her status. It made perfect sense to have a senior copywriter like Gu Yi deliver it, which would be thoughtful yet restrained in terms of PR. 

Gu Yi took the items and left the office, thinking about the 1ml perfume samples in her drawer, the “benefits” she received last year when working with Bulgari. Being a senior didn’t matter; she was still at the bottom of the workplace hierarchy. 

The three female authors in the afternoon were all well-known in the urban women’s literature genre. They started with blogging about love and life, eventually publishing bestsellers with millions of copies sold. Though they were in their thirties now, their skin was tight from maintaining their looks, and they carried luxury bags with no visible logos—very much the “female writer” style. Gu Yi tried to match their names with their faces but failed after a few minutes, settling for calling them “teachers” instead. The intern behind her whispered, “They’re easy to tell apart: 32A, 34A, and 36A—three women with A cups.” 

Gu Yi turned around to see the intern, a boy who studied abroad, sticking out his tongue and playing with his lip ring. He drove his own car to the internship every day and didn’t seem at all nervous. 

The three women had likely come to promote their new books, with the theme “Women, Elegant Against Time.” During the photo session, the one with the most pronounced cheekbones stood in the center, while the others were ranked according to their social status. Gu Yi overheard their conversation and realized that although they were all writers, they were also very active on social media. The one in the center had 6 million followers on her public account, while the other two had 800,000 and 600,000 respectively. Their positions were determined by their “ranking” in the industry. 

The most popular one had developed a large fan base across the country, and she ran various courses on career skills, emotional intelligence, and understanding human weaknesses, with nearly a million copies sold. The other two had smaller businesses: one ran an online store selling 298 yuan Chinese-style lipsticks and 58 yuan herbal socks, while the other started a brand called “Intellectual Woman” that sold clothing and essential oils. 

Each had their own customer base, but it sounded like a middle-class pyramid scheme. Gu Yi wondered who would buy all of this. Was it really so easy to make money from urban women? 

During a break in the interview, the woman in the center left to catch a high-speed train, while the other two sat on a sofa in the studio, sharing a durian-flavored European bread from a paper bag and gossiping about the woman who left. 

“Zhong Jie takes care of herself really well. The only signs of aging are her slightly shriveled nose and the thighs and shoulders that exercise can’t tone down.” 

“Did you know? She just remarried her ex-husband. He initially left her for another woman, but now that she’s doing well with her public account and business, he came back.” 

“Men aren’t stupid.” 

They completely ignored Gu Yi, who was sitting nearby and typing up notes on her computer. Their conversation continued: “We’ve been trying to get her to swap articles for the public account, but we can only get three posts. We can’t even get a fourth. I’ve got 100,000+ views on my top posts, but she just doesn’t have time—she’s too busy with interviews with celebrities.” 

“Celebrity interviews? Did they set up a team to handle that?” 

“I’m not sure. I’ve been too busy finding a kindergarten for my son, so I haven’t been paying attention.” 

“Next month I’m scheduling a session with a master for spiritual healing. They have a great program where you run around a fire circle in the sand. It sounds silly, but when paired with music, it’s really relaxing.” The long-haired author paused for a moment. “Do you think we missed the chance to really grow our fanbase?” 

“The times have changed. When we broke 500,000 in sales, Zhong Jie was just our editor. In the end, she had her baby early, while we were busy with relationships and starting families. At least our husbands are a bit better than hers. Her husband is just a manager in a state-owned enterprise, with very yellow teeth. Your husband and my ex-husband are at least presentable, especially your son—he’s so handsome, just like you.”

Gu Yi could tell that only a woman who is evenly matched with her can have a solid friendship. As the two female writers chatted, they unknowingly turned the conversation to Gu Yi. In just ten minutes, Gu Yi realized that she had a lot of issues: still single at twenty-six, due to long-term drinking, blocked meridians, a darkened forehead, and the fact that she wasn’t dressed stylishly enough... The long-haired female writer generously said, “I have a lemon essential oil at my store that is very calming. What’s your address? I’ll send it to you.”

It was a gesture to break the ice. After the interview, Gu Yi found herself buying several items from the writers’ online stores: a period health gift box, a versatile nude-colored shirt, a heating waist support, and two books, The Beauty of Wasted Time and Yearning for Time, Doing Your Best.

After the purchases, Gu Yi’s heart was bleeding. She thought to herself, “What’s the difference between me and Yu Dule? I haven’t been drinking lately, but the money for the Cadillac hasn’t arrived yet, so I had to prepay the performance fee. Living in the city really means becoming part of the consumption cycle—if not in this ring, then in another.”

The long-haired female writer continued asking, “Do you write anything in your spare time? You’re still young, and it’s the time when you have the most desire to express yourself. I can help you review it.”

Gu Yi saw on her friend’s social media that she had a 599-yuan writing group and immediately shook her head, “Thank you, teacher, I don’t write anything. My spare time isn’t very cultural.”

When leaving, Gu Yi handed over a Bvlgari perfume gift box. The two writers hesitated and glanced at each other, as if neither had received the one they liked. The long-haired writer said, “Never mind. People like us, who make seven figures a year, don’t care about whether we have perfume or not. Recently, we’re just relaxing in Shanghai. The subway during rush hour is too crowded, and it smells bad. Let’s take a taxi to Henglong.”

The other female writer patted Gu Yi’s shoulder: “You’re still at the golden age. Date more, show your beauty. The period tea will be sent over in a few days, make sure to drink it seriously.”

The intern writer raised an eyebrow behind them, her eyebrow ring flashing.

Liang Daiwen hadn’t returned for several days. Gu Yi went out early and returned late, preparing her material at Ounce. She barely turned on the living room lights. On Saturday, they had agreed to go to the Cadillac new product launch together. When Liang Daiwen returned to change clothes, she happened to see two big packages of express deliveries from the female writers’ online stores. Gu Yi tore open the packages, wrapped them in brown paper bags, and thought she would send them to the company after the performance. She didn’t want to seem too much like the owner, and if Liang Daiwen smelled the health tea, it might be just as shocking as finding dry flowers and silkworms.

As expected, before leaving, Liang Daiwen looked at the paper bags: “Why are you bringing so many things to the performance? Are you DJing for them?”

Gu Yi replied, “It’s nothing important, don’t mind it.”

At the Cadillac test drive event, Gu Yi reviewed the process with the host, glanced at the audience, which was mostly middle-aged men, with a few older ladies bringing their children. The children were running around, and the adults, who had clearly learned to ignore them, were happily grabbing biscuits and cakes from the snack area and even wrapping the pudding in napkins to put in their bags. Mr. Zhang from sales kept saying, “Gu Yi, the audience is especially large today, we’re relying on you to bring them some joy. We’ve thought of many ways, but singing and dancing always seem tacky. Last quarter, Maserati invited a stand-up comedian, and it worked quite well, so we invited you.”

Based on her limited knowledge of Cadillac, Gu Yi thought that, in terms of brand tone, singing and dancing might actually have been a better fit.

She went on stage, but the audience didn’t seem particularly excited. Performing in front of a crowd that wasn’t her regular audience wasn’t a new experience for Gu Yi. She greeted them warmly: “Hello everyone, I’m Gu Yi, a stand-up comedian. You may not be familiar with this industry, but that’s okay. Our main goal is to bring some joy, and I hope my sincerity can exchange for your laughter.”

Her tone, more like Song Dandan’s, didn’t resonate with the audience, and Gu Yi thought, maybe to be more relatable for Cadillac, she had failed. Liang Daiwen, holding her head high, was looking at the stage, her expression unamused, almost like she was waiting for Gu Yi to fail. The nervousness from their first meeting came rushing back. She had a strong premonition that the event would be full of awkward silences and would definitely be observed by Liang Daiwen.

Steady.

“Everyone has some fun impressions of Cadillac, like how the car’s direction is always off track, heading straight to a spa; the GPS always malfunctions, but if you look for a nearby spa, you’ll quickly get a location. Car owners are always mistakenly treated as ‘bath kings,’ which is quite embarrassing. But this is just a stereotype, just like people say that BBA car owners have bad quality. But have you noticed that these comments are probably from people who can’t afford these cars and are just bitter? They probably ride shared bikes.”

A few people in the audience started laughing, though it was a small laugh. Gu Yi casually pointed to an audience member in the front row, “Sir, are you here for Cadillac?”

“Yes.”

“What do you usually focus on when choosing a car?”

“Value for money.”

“Oh!” Gu Yi joked, “It seems like you really know Cadillac. What do you do for a living?”

“Internet.”

“What kind of internet?”

“Internet.”

The audience laughed, but it was a little awkward. The most common challenge in a new venue was connecting with an audience that didn’t understand the format. Gu Yi had gotten used to it, imagining the whole audience was Liang Daiwen! She grabbed the microphone and said, “Don’t worry, sir. It’s just a little interaction. We often encounter nervous audience members who aren’t familiar with this format. They feel awkward and think they’re not funny, but they just need to relax. Let me ask another one, this gentleman in the back row, are you here with your son to look at cars?”

“My grandson is in the next room, taking an English class.”

The audience laughed, but the atmosphere was quite awkward. Gu Yi, like a piece of cloth in a hot pot, felt as if she couldn’t be eaten and had made the pot dirty. After a lot of effort, she got a few scattered laughs, feeling the reality of not fitting in. Suddenly, she noticed the paper bags by Liang Daiwen’s seat: “It’s an honor to be here today. I also have small gifts for everyone.” Gu Yi looked at the older ladies in the audience, their eyes finally lighting up: “Since we’re talking about Cadillac, which is both practical and high-class, I prepared gifts that are perfect for everyone here: period health gift boxes, heating waist supports—these are all practical and good items. Next, I have some small interactive questions. Everyone who claps or raises their hand will get a gift.”

The effect suddenly became much better. Manager Zhang walked over and said, “Ms. Gu, your performance today was really great. Your stand-up comedy style is so innovative and thoughtful. We hope we can invite you again in the future. As a small token of respect from Cadillac, if you ever decide to buy a Cadillac, I’ll apply to leadership for a three-year interest-free loan voucher for you.”

Gu Yi pursed her lips and smiled slightly. Manager Zhang seemed puzzled and asked, “Ms. Gu, is something wrong? Does your husband not like Cadillacs?”

Gu Yi glanced over at Liang Daiwen, who was waiting for her in the distance, and asked, “Can I transfer this voucher?”

After leaving the Cadillac event, Gu Yi still felt a bit weak in the legs. Liang Daiwen looked at her and said, “You really came prepared. The gift is quite fitting. Why didn’t you bring these things to Ounce?”

Gu Yi shook her head. “Money is hard to make. I barely broke even.”

“What?”

“Nothing, just a little self-comfort. The effect was pretty good.”

Liang Daiwen remained expressionless. “Just pretend there were 50 people in the audience. Audiences are realistic. If you strip away the appearances and look at the essence, people aren’t necessarily that happy. I have something else to do, so I’ll leave first.”

No comfort whatsoever. Gu Yi entered the subway alone and leaned against the subway map. She initially felt embarrassed, but Liang Daiwen’s calmness, even lacking any comforting words, made it seem as though he hadn’t been there at all. This was the first time she noticed the benefit of Liang Daiwen’s lack of a smile—without any emotional fluctuations, it was as though he didn’t even notice her embarrassment, making it less necessary to fix her sadness.

Although the jokes didn’t land and the reactions were cold, she had expected it before she even arrived.

Two women were chatting behind her. “My husband only comes home around 3 a.m. lately. I found a photo of a drink menu in his WeChat. If I’m not mistaken, it looks like a place for adults. Every day I teach others and manage the finances at home, never imagined such things could be reimbursed by the company.”

Out of curiosity about gossip, Gu Yi sneaked a peek around the corner and quickly pulled her head back—two female writers waiting for the subway, holding shopping bags with home lingerie, and wearing the unmistakable scent of Bvlgari Amethyst perfume.