PSE - 56

The approval for moving into the startup park came much earlier than Ha Yue had expected. On the third day of the Lunar New Year, Ha Yue received the keys to the new office from the on-duty property manager.

The 90-square-meter open space was divided into three areas by transparent glass partitions. It was fully equipped with desks and chairs. In addition to the meeting room, office area, and reception area, there was also a fairly large terrace on the sunny side, connecting to more than a dozen other companies in the incubation phase.

Buying computers, decorating, setting up fiber optics, building a live streaming studio, debugging live streaming parameters, hiring network engineers.

This Spring Festival, Ha Yue was destined to have no rest. Before the Lantern Festival, their online agricultural assistance platform had officially started operations. In addition to professional streamers, the company also hired idle housewives to work part-time, broadcasting 16 hours a day. Traffic steadily increased, orders poured in, and the office group expanded from three people to ten.

By early April, Ha Yue successfully leveraged her connections in the business circle to secure two small investors. The Suicheng office was now full. After deducting wages and all initial investments, the business model ran smoothly in its early operations, and Ha Yue’s company even made a considerable profit.

Far surpassing other startups in the same period.

No one would have imagined that the shriveled seabuckthorn fruit in the basket that day would drive billions of dollars in sales in such a short time.

But even with such achievements, Ha Yue’s ambition didn’t stop there. In early May, she began actively engaging with various investment companies at entrepreneurial salons, preparing to expand the scale of her enterprise and compete for supply qualifications for Suicheng agricultural products in large chain supermarkets.

The new round of financing was no longer just a few million yuan. In the next two years, Ha Yue expected her company’s valuation to exceed 50 million yuan. Leveraging capital to expand, she was seeking funding between 10 and 30 million yuan.

At that point, she would face a series of comprehensive evaluations from professional venture capital firms scrutinizing every aspect of her fledgling business—from the overarching business model and industry prospects to her personal capabilities as the company representative and leadership methods.

The road ahead was fraught with risks, but facing these daunting challenges, she felt no fear—only confidence. She was no longer the girl who, when faced with difficulties in life, wanted to cut her losses and run. Above the abyss, there was only one tightrope to walk. The burden on her shoulders was heavy, but she had to press forward. To truly live, she could not afford to be complacent. In moments of late-night despair, the only way to drive away the emptiness was to kindle a fire by rubbing sticks together—walking this path of self-salvation with all her might. There was no other way.

Perhaps climbing one mountain only revealed another taller peak beyond it. People feared difficulty and thus became trapped, but little did they realize that every step along the journey was enough to enrich a lifetime.

As winter gave way to spring, Suicheng was once again swept by swirling dust. To Ha Yue, her hometown still felt both warm and cruel. But when the haze finally cleared, as she walked familiar streets and passed the familiar lottery shop, she could faintly hear the sound of triumph in the howling wind.

Life was still a brutal battle—but it didn’t matter. Ha Yue had already won herself.

On June 1st, Children’s Day, the Suicheng Cultural Bureau held a ribbon-cutting ceremony for the opening of the new library. The location was set at the former residence of a writer, which had been abandoned last year due to a broken funding chain.

After two months of continuous overtime without rest, Ha Yue finally took an unprecedented week off—not to relax, but to accompany her mother, whose condition had worsened, to see specialists at Jixi Medical University.

Recently, her company had risen like a shining star. Not only had it been designated as a key experimental project, receiving special “Internet+” funding from the Suicheng government, but it had also attracted visits from numerous investors.

Unfortunately, no miracle had occurred in the progression of Alzheimer’s disease. Within less than half a year, Zhao Chunni had lost most of her emotional perception. Once quick-tempered, she had become taciturn. Whether it was TV programs or cognitive training exercises, Wu Fangtian found it increasingly difficult to spark any interest in her.

She often sat motionless in her chair, staring at the western wing of the house for hours, refusing to utter a word.

The clinical trial that Xue Jing had once suggested to Ha Yue became Zhao Chunni’s last hope.

After the previous day’s consultation, the doctor’s recommendation aligned with what Ha Yue had anticipated: if their financial situation allowed, despite the high cost and uncertain outcomes, they could enroll Zhao Chunni in the second phase of stem cell therapy clinical trials.

After thoroughly reviewing the treatment method and follow-up results from Phase I samples, Ha Yue made her decision without hesitation. She paid the fees, signed the family consent form, and returned with her mother to Xue Jing’s residence in Jixi.

Before coming to Jixi this time, Ha Yue had already arranged for her mother’s hospitalization. Not only had she come, but Wu Fangtian accompanied them as well. Before leaving, Ha Yue proactively requested that Wu Fangtian continue caring for her mother during her hospital stay, offering a raise as compensation. Fortunately, their relationship as employer and employee had been pleasant over the past six months, and Wu Fangtian readily agreed.

Early in the morning, news likely leaked from Zhou Shuang, and Xue Jing, who hadn’t returned to Jixi in a long time, received numerous calls of inquiry.

The response to his new book had been positive, and discussions about film and TV rights were underway.

Editors, IP managers, and reporters from the book section of newspapers—Xue Jing could decline these—but several officials from the Writers’ Association were persistent, insisting he give a special report on the book donation event in Suicheng.

In the past, when he couldn’t write, Xue Jing wished he had more meetings to attend. Even if his mind was empty, at least looking busy made him appear productive. But now that his writing process was smooth, all social engagements felt like wasted effort.

Though outwardly versatile, deep down he craved peace and quiet. Rather than attending meetings with old men, he preferred spending more time nurturing his relationship with his girlfriend.

While Ha Yue often said living happily in the moment was enough, enjoying the present didn’t stop her from planning obsessively for their future together.

Xue Jing wanted to get married before turning 30. It wasn’t about anything else—it was mainly because he feared his looks might decline by then. Moreover, for some reason, children always seemed to perceive a generational gap between him and Ha Yue. As the “tall uncle,” Xue Jing had started experiencing anti-aging anxiety this year.

Lately, whenever he looked in the mirror, he felt his jawline wasn’t as defined as before.

Since returning home with Ha Yue from the hospital yesterday, Xue Jing had been cautious and attentive, fearing he might overlook any negative emotions Ha Yue might have. His spacious apartment truly was large—with two studies. When he lived alone, he used to complain about not having enough rooms, constantly rearranging furniture and even designating one room as a meditation space.

But last night, after settling Ha Yue, Zhao Chunni, and Wu Fangtian, he lay in the bedroom across from Ha Yue and couldn’t help but feel regretful. Why had he bought such a big house? And why did it have four beds? With so many rooms, he couldn’t even justify sleeping in the same bed as Ha Yue.

Fortunately, his sharp hearing came in handy. At around 1 a.m., when Ha Yue got up to fetch water from the fridge, he sprang up like a carp, grabbed four bottles of sparkling water in different flavors, and slipped into the small bedroom, where he stayed until morning.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get a full eight hours of sleep. By 8 a.m., he was groggily answering calls on the balcony—one after another—until he woke Ha Yue.

Through her drowsy haze, Ha Yue heard someone whispering nearby. After a while, she turned over groggily. Xue Jing was typing replies beside her. Glancing at his chat window, she slapped his butt with a broad hand and said, “If you’re invited, just go. Now that you’re back, rejecting people isn’t polite. My mom is just waiting for the hospital admission notice; nothing urgent. You focus on your work.”

“Tsk.” Xue Jing pulled her hand onto his chest, clearly accustomed to her rough behavior. After a pause, he replied, “It’s not just Auntie’s matter. Isn’t today a holiday? Since Wu Auntie is here to keep her company, I’ve already planned everything. If you’re feeling okay, we’ll go feed the deer at Ziyu Park. The weather’s nice today, and there should be plenty of swans. We’ll have lunch there, then head to the mall to pick out gifts. In the afternoon, we’ll row boats at Houhai, watch the sunset, and have French cuisine at Songzhu Temple nearby. If you’re not tired in the evening, we can stroll through the hutongs and grab a couple of drinks. I’ll hire a designated driver—I promise to take good care of you this time.”

Recently, on nights when Ha Yue had been working overtime, he had secretly been practicing drinking. However, even now, just one beer was enough to make him blush.

The plan sounded pleasant enough, but Ha Yue’s brain was still churning like a money-printing machine.

Come on—according to her knowledge, Xue Jing’s new book had clearly been a successful transition, yet he still hadn’t managed to sell the film and TV adaptation rights. Over the past six months, several production companies had contacted Zhou Shuang’s studio, only for negotiations to stall at Xue Jing’s end. After spending so much time together without pretense, she realized that Xue Jing wasn’t just severely procrastinating—he was also a deeply hidden introvert.

Every time the topic of IP incubation, meetings, pricing, or terms came up, his responses were always the same: “Let me think about it” or “We’ll talk later.”

And once he said “later,” it often meant another month of silence, with his phone on mute as if it were merely a decoration.

Moreover, Ha Yue wasn’t a child. Though she sometimes indulged in childlike whimsy, as an independent 27-year-old woman, she believed her holiday was International Women’s Day, not Children’s Day. She didn’t see the need to join the crowds celebrating with children and looking at small animals. With six days of vacation left, the romantic plans Xue Jing mentioned could easily wait until tomorrow. But the business calls were different—if they weren’t handled promptly, the opportunity might slip away forever.

It was like the emperor wasn’t worried, but the eunuch was panicking.

So, acting like a ruthless top salesperson, she resorted to any means necessary, rolling over to Xue Jing’s side and physically pushing him off the bed.

As she delivered the final blow, she complained incessantly, “Oh, my mood won’t improve until tomorrow. Combined, we’re nearly sixty years old—people are practically ready to be buried. Why celebrate Children’s Day? In the morning, stop being so clingy, okay? Distance creates beauty, you know? I can’t stand looking at you right now—I really need some space from you. Go to your meeting.”

“Don’t bother me.”

At nine o’clock, Xue Jing, carrying his laptop and looking as grim as Bao Gong, was unceremoniously kicked out of his own home by Ha Yue.

No sooner had Xue Jing left than Ha Yue rushed to the mall to shop.

She bought the perfume Xue Jing liked, the expensive shoes he favored, and after selecting gifts, she ordered the best roast duck she remembered eating while working at Jixi University. Finally, passing by a flower shop, Ha Yue returned with bags full of colorful snacks arranged into bouquets—one for Xue Jing and one for her mother.

When she arrived back at Xue Jing’s place just in time for lunch, Wu Fangtian opened the door and immediately signaled wildly toward the living room, whispering, “Xue Jing’s mom is here.”