CTJM - 18

Chapter 18: Blind Date

On the way back to the station, the atmosphere in the car was… strange.

Director Yin was usually quiet, sitting silently in the back seat, but today even Wei Chi remained silent, driving with a sour expression on his face. Yao Anqi, being younger, didn’t fully understand the tension but could sense the stiffness in the air, scaring her into silence as well.

Once they arrived at the station, Director Yin got out first and headed upstairs. Yao Anqi and Wei Chi went to park in the underground garage. While unloading the equipment, Yao Anqi couldn’t help but offer some advice: “It’s okay. Director Yin is really nice. She won’t hold the lighting issue against you. Don’t stress yourself out over nothing…”

Wei Chi snorted, the faint dark glint of his left ear piercing catching the light, and muttered, “It’s not about that—don’t worry about it.”

Yin Mengxi had gotten out on the first floor. As soon as she entered, she was greeted by the nearly ten-meter-high atrium of the station, adorned with a massive promotional poster for Forever Moving Forward, the station’s most important project of the season. It was scheduled for prime-time broadcast, with all the best resources allocated to it. Even a pig could make it explode with success.

She had no desire to look at it, regretting not going with the two younger staff members to park in the underground garage. Now, she realized she wouldn’t be able to walk through the lobby for the next few months without risking a nervous breakdown. Keeping her head down, she hurried toward the elevator. But before she had taken more than a few steps, she noticed a large group of people approaching her from the opposite direction. Glancing up instinctively, she froze—it was yet another awkward encounter.

—Zheng Ze, Liu Xiaoting, a crowd of staff from the Forever Moving Forward production team, and, surrounded by them like the center of attention, Sun Jianbin, the head of the programming center.

Great. Just great.

Yin Mengxi had no idea which deity she had offended this year. It wasn’t even her zodiac year yet, but misfortune after misfortune kept piling up. Here she was, simply returning to the office after an external assignment, and she ran into this entire group of adversaries. And not just partially—every single one of them.

It was too late to escape. With the distance closing rapidly, she could only brace herself and stand there, waiting for the leader to approach so she could greet him. Sun Jianbin, the old fox, truly lived up to his reputation as a seasoned leader—his face was as thick as the walls of a fortress. Seeing her, he showed no trace of embarrassment or guilt, greeting her with complete nonchalance: “Oh, Little Yin.”

He was much more composed than when he had been caught by his wife at the business gala that night.

The unpleasant memories surged back, and Yin Mengxi felt her stomach churn. To make matters worse, Zheng Ze and Liu Xiaoting stood nearby with smug, gloating expressions on their faces, as if silently mocking her: “Go die, you poor loser. Everything you had is ours now.”

This fleeting encounter, lasting less than twenty seconds in total, left Yin Mengxi feeling miserable for the entire day.

She kept thinking—about the disgusting things Sun Jianbin had done to her, about Zheng Ze and Liu Xiaoting’s insufferable smirks of triumph, about the dazzling promotional poster for Forever Moving Forward, and about the invaluable career opportunities and immeasurable wealth she had lost...

...Why did everything have to be so terrible?

Was being an adult really this difficult?

At five o’clock, after enduring the lifeless atmosphere of the office, she was finally about to leave when her phone rang. Glancing down, she saw it was a call from home.

Yin Mengxi took a deep breath, not wanting to reveal her current state of distress. After a brief moment of composure, she answered: “Hello?”

“Xixi.”

Her mother’s familiar voice came through the line, carrying the distinct flavor of their hometown dialect—a bit rustic but undeniably warm and affectionate.

“Are you off work yet? How busy are you these days?” Her mother continued asking, with the sounds of cooking faintly audible in the background. “Have you eaten?”

“I’m just leaving work. Everything’s fine,” Yin Mengxi replied, trying to make her voice sound cheerful. “Is Dad cooking?”

“Yes, yes, he’s making dinner. We’re about to eat,” her mother chuckled warmly. “Take care of yourself and don’t overwork.”

“I know.” Yin Mengxi smiled faintly, tidying up the items on her desk before stepping out of the office.

“What about the date we arranged for today? You didn’t forget, did you?” Suddenly, her mother shifted the topic. “It’s at a restaurant near your station. That young man is really nice—your age, works in finance. You must go meet him and have a good chat!”

...Ah, right.

There was also this matter.

For a 29-year-old woman who remained single, being set up on blind dates by family was perfectly normal. In their small hometown, girls often married by the age of twenty. More than half of Yin Mengxi’s middle school classmates already had children old enough to run errands, while she remained single. Every time she returned home, neighbors whispered behind her back: “That girl from the Yin family may have been talented enough to get into University A, but what’s the point? She can’t find a partner. Who knows what her future holds?”

Her mother had managed to stay calm in the past few years, but as Yin Mengxi approached thirty, her patience finally wore thin. She began frantically arranging blind dates through acquaintances, one after another like a never-ending banquet.

“This one is really good, trust me,” her mother persisted on the phone. “Your Aunt Peng introduced him. You must take this seriously—I have to give her feedback, you understand?”

Yin Mengxi walked briskly into the stairwell, heading down to the underground parking garage. Thankfully, this secluded area wasn’t plastered with posters for Forever Moving Forward. Otherwise, she might have called the police out of sheer frustration.

“I know, I know. I’m on my way,” she obediently replied. “I’ll have a good chat. I’m actually hungry too.”

—Would refusing help?

No.

Arguing would only waste time; the meal might even end before they finished debating. It was better to humor her elders, put on a polite front, and go through the motions. If nothing else, she might make a new acquaintance.

As for love and marriage...

...Those were things that no longer concerned her.

The roads were congested during rush hour, and by the time she arrived at the restaurant, she was ten minutes late. The man had already arrived and was waiting impatiently at the entrance. Seeing her Audi A4, he seemed to sneer slightly, likely unimpressed. She paid no mind, turned off the engine, and stepped out of the car. When he saw her face, his expression softened, seemingly reassured.

“Miss Yin?”

He stepped forward, dressed in a suit and tie—the quintessential image of a businessman working in the CBD. He wasn’t tall, perhaps barely 175 cm, with an ordinary face but sharp, calculating eyes.

At 29, Teacher Yin had met countless people in her professional life—various personalities, appearances, and behaviors. Though they seemed diverse, they could generally be categorized into a few types. She immediately recognized what kind of person this man was and anticipated that tonight’s dinner wouldn’t be particularly pleasant.

“Hello, I’m Yin Mengxi.”

Nevertheless, she greeted him politely.

“Miss Yin works at the TV station?”

Before their steaks arrived, the man sitting across from her was already eager to probe into her background.

“I heard you’re a producer. Have I perhaps seen any of your shows?”

“Probably not,” Yin Mengxi responded with a courteous smile. “I haven’t worked on financial programs.”

“Anything with strong commercial appeal works too,” he pressed on. “Talk shows, reality shows—I watch those too.”

“No, I work in humanities documentaries. It’s quite niche,” Yin Mengxi continued smiling. “I was supposed to produce a reality show, but unfortunately, I was replaced. You could call it a failed promotion.”

“Ah...”

He fell silent for a moment.

Yin Mengxi picked up her glass and took a sip of water.

“What about hobbies?” he quickly asked again, this time taking a more indirect approach. “Does Miss Yin have any interests? Maybe we’ll find some common ground.”

“My life is rather dull. I go home and sleep after work. I don’t have many hobbies,” she replied flatly. “When I have time, I read books or occasionally visit exhibitions. That’s all.”

“Ah...”

He fell silent once more.

“Miss Yin, you’re 29 this year, right?” His tone cooled slightly.

“Yes,” Yin Mengxi nodded calmly.

“Why are you still single at this age?”

“What I mean is, your conditions don’t seem bad. Why haven’t you fallen in love or gotten married yet?”

“Is it because you haven’t met the right person?”

“Or were you held back by a previous relationship for too long?”

...This was a barrage of questions.

Yin Mengxi silently congratulated herself on her judgment—she had predicted correctly that this dinner wouldn’t be pleasant.

“Maybe fate hasn’t arrived yet,” she answered quietly. “I haven’t met someone I like.”

At this, the man chuckled, as if she had said something laughable.

“Miss Yin, we’re both adults. There’s no need to beat around the bush. Let me speak frankly.”

He adjusted his CBD-style tie, adopting an earnest demeanor that made him look like he was about to deliver an annual report.

“At our age, when people come to blind dates, they’re usually aiming for marriage. Talking about whether you like someone or not is meaningless and only wastes time.”

“To be honest, I didn’t want to come today. We’re the same age, but you know men aren’t as anxious about marriage as women are. If Auntie hadn’t repeatedly called me, I wouldn’t have made time to come.”

“Your conditions aren’t bad, but from what I know, you don’t own property in City A, and your income likely lags far behind mine. If we’re considering marriage, I need to understand your future life plans and career prospects clearly. Our steps must align; otherwise, forming a family isn’t possible.”

“Also,” he cleared his throat, adopting the tone of a leader preparing to emphasize a key point. “I have emotional洁癖 (a preference for purity in relationships), so it’s necessary to inquire about your past romantic experiences. How many times have you been in a relationship? When was your last one? How far did it progress? And why did it end?”

“...”

Endless questions.

Yin Mengxi boldly speculated that this CBD finance professional sitting across from her was likely proficient at creating PowerPoint presentations. He probably stacked charts and graphs together to craft dazzling, high-priced reports. In his eyes, she was nothing more than a data sample to be analyzed: age—score; income—score; number of past relationships—score; career prospects—score...

Adding up all these factors gave her a total score. Based on his earlier comments, she guessed she barely passed, thanks primarily to her appearance and educational background. Everything else likely deducted points.

—Could she blame him?

No.

Regardless of gender, in the blind date market, people weren’t individuals—they were pieces of meat tagged with various labels, their value measured accordingly. Was it lean meat? Where was it produced? What was its production date? If compatible, they’d exchange goods; if not, they’d move on to the next market.

There was no room for liking or love here. Pure, heartfelt emotions were fairy tales—luxuries deemed impractical and mocked.

But that wasn’t what she wanted.

She had once received the purest feelings in the world... The person she liked had looked at her with the gentlest gaze, and his kisses had given her the most intense heart-fluttering moments.

They could have been very happy together.

But for some unknown reason... they had drifted apart.

“I...”

She was finally about to speak, intending to squeeze out a few polite platitudes to brush him off. This wasn’t difficult for her—she had faced similar situations many times over the years. What made this instance different was that she was interrupted halfway—

“Sis, I can’t believe you—”

An irritated voice suddenly cut through the air. The young man hadn’t even arrived yet, but his voice preceded him.

“You refuse to eat with me but choose to eat with this guy? What kind of taste do you have?”