Chapter 34: Should I Watch You Suffer, or Take You Away?

This man seemed to hide many facets. The side he showed to others always aimed for perfection, yet hints of other sides would occasionally peek through. In the end, it was like rolling a die—when all six sides spun, no one could predict which one would land face up.

Fuming with frustration, Jian Zhaowen worked during the day while listening to Dou Yu and Yu Zhimei chat next door at night, burying himself in perfecting his app. Within a week, downloads surpassed ten thousand, so he decided to open registration fully. He hadn’t anticipated such a surge in users. The Day and Night communities attracted different types of people: the most active users on the “Day” side were featured on the homepage, mostly posting selfies and short videos that garnered hundreds of likes. Meanwhile, the anonymous “Night” section still had fewer participants, with discussions revolving around work stress and the daily struggles of married life. People often said they wouldn’t easily expose their deepest desires, but only after creating this app did Jian realize that complaints openly voiced were often about marriage, while those shared in the shadows—about emotions—remained private. No one dared to reveal the true darkness hidden in their souls.

He cashed out a stock to buy cloud servers, calculating how long he could sustain operations before burning through his savings. A startup couldn’t skimp on server quality; poor user experience would ruin the app’s reputation from the start. Three problems loomed ahead: 1) Fixing bugs that surfaced post-launch; 2) As functionality grew more complex, demands for computing power, storage, and bandwidth increased—he might need to partner up or seek funding; 3) With a growing user base came trolls and harassment reports, meaning he’d need customer support and moderation. Forming a company was inevitable—and sooner than expected.

________________________________________

Unexpectedly, Miao Lin Dessert Shop underwent renovations, replacing tables, chairs, and lights. He Jie invited everyone over to admire her new purple lighting setup. A giant disco ball now hung between the first and second floors. Yu Zhimei climbed to the second floor and looked down at the crowd below, where people swayed like divers in an exotic sea. She locked eyes with Jian Zhaowen across the room, her heartbeat quickening subtly to the rhythm of the music. She had changed her hairstyle, cutting her hair into a bob reminiscent of Mathilda from Léon: The Professional . It had been a while since either of them visited Miao Lin. Before, Jian Zhaowen frequented the shop almost daily to see Yu Zhimei, but after she became someone else’s girlfriend, he buried himself in algorithms and lost interest in the place. It wasn’t that he stopped considering He Jie a friend—it was just that without Yu Zhimei, he no longer felt motivated to go out drinking. Xiao Ma Ge, staring at the lights, blurted out: “This lighting makes it look like a sleazy service venue.”

“Watch your mouth!” He Jie scolded.

“Doesn’t it? If you travel around, check out those massage parlors—their lights are all colorful too.”

“Xiao Ma, you have no taste. This is called futuristic aesthetics. Play a Showa-era ballad or vaporwave track, and this becomes the scene of a small summer dance party. Listen—”

He Jie switched to Akina Nakamori’s Relations , watching as Jian Zhaowen and Yu Zhimei exchanged glances, Shi Rui discreetly checking her phone while stealing glances at Jian Zhaowen. The song felt oddly fitting. Turning her gaze to Xiao Ma Ge, He Jie saw him fiddling with his phone while scratching his back under his shirt—an unattractive pose. Suddenly losing her mood, He Jie snapped: “Ma Minmin, what’s wrong with you? Why do you have to make such a fuss just to scratch an itch?”

Xiao Ma Ge turned his back to her: “Do you know how much this Chrome Hearts shirt costs? What if the pattern gets ruined if I don’t scratch carefully?”

“You’re wearing something so expensive here? Been on blind dates?” Yu Zhimei teased.

“So what if I have? Blind dating isn’t shameful.” Xiao Ma Ge pointed at Shi Rui: “Guess who I ran into today—she went to Longyang Road for a date. I bumped into her at the subway station while visiting my mom.”

Shi Rui admitted surprisingly candidly: “Yes, I went on a date today. The guy was pretty decent. And guess what—he’s someone I met on Brother Jian’s new app.”

“What app?” He Jie perked up with interest.

“‘Day & Night.’ I made it recently.”

“Jian Zhaowen, you’re not being fair. Only Shi Rui and Xiao Ma come here to drink anymore. You and Yu Zhimei—one busy falling in love, the other holed up making big news. If you hadn’t told me today, how long were you planning to hide your new app?” He Jie enthusiastically downloaded the app: “Let me see what this big boss’s new creation looks like.”

She didn’t hold back. Everyone except Xiao Ma Ge knew how close He Jie had come to being beaten at the birthday party, yet here she was at Miao Lin Dessert Shop acting as if nothing had happened, cheerfully earning money from customers and chatting freely. Jian Zhaowen closed his eyes and reminded her gently: “The people downloading the new app are seasoned players in the dating game. They’ve exhausted older apps and are fishing for fresh prey. But this app isn’t just about romance—it encourages users to share their emotional states honestly. I suggest you explore the ‘Night’ side more.”

Naïve Xiao Ma Ge chimed in innocently: “Brother Jian, did you start another company?”

“No, just tinkering around by myself—for now. Though it won’t be long before I do.”

“See, Yu Zhimei? Foolish, aren’t you? Not choosing Jian Zhaowen over some dance teacher—you’ll regret it someday.”

As if on cue, Dou Yu walked in, grinning too widely. Jian felt as though a set of teeth floated toward him. Dou Yu brought takeout snacks for everyone, seemingly returning from dinner. When the bag opened, Xiao Ma Ge frowned—there was little food, and the portions weren’t generous. Everyone took two bites, and it was over. Jian had no appetite; he only watched as Dou Yu draped his arm over Yu Zhimei’s shoulder. She smiled sweetly, catching Jian’s gaze before stiffly turning away. Xiao Ma Ge, clearly stirring trouble, asked: “And who might this gentleman be?”

“I’m an account manager at an advertising agency—a humble worker.”

“How did you two meet?”

“I won a drifting experience. That day, Yu Zhimei was the drift instructor. As soon as I got in the car, she blew me away. Isn’t that special? A girl who knows how to drift—I had to put in some effort to win her heart.”

“And where do you live?”

“Near Jinjiang Road on Line 13.”

“That’s far,” Xiao Ma Ge remarked smugly, owning four properties and finding fault with everything. “That’s ten subway stops every day, right?”

“Not too bad—it’s within the middle ring.”

Xiao Ma Ge snickered: “Not too bad? Living outside the middle ring is unbearable. Lucky landlords—we slaves to education spend years studying, only to hand our money over to them.”

“There’s no helping it. Born into privilege has its perks. I can’t understand why you complain about landlords when you choose to stay in Shanghai and rent my property. No one forced you to stay.”

Jian silently celebrated being on the same team as Xiao Ma Ge. His offhand comments about Shanghainese superiority could sting deeply. While He Jie went to greet customers, Dou Yu leaned back in his chair, draping his arm around Yu Zhimei while stealing lingering glances at He Jie. Jian noticed but said nothing. At the table, Dou Yu regaled Shi Rui with tales of bizarre clients from the ad world. Yu Zhimei, bored, silently scrolled through her phone. Dou Yu spoke professionally: “I never let my AE chase copywriters. They finish writing in 20 minutes, and clients might demand ten revisions in a day. Only weak AEs or desperate clients benefit from rushing drafts. Better to use that time brainstorming or understanding client needs—writing slowly is fine.”

Yu Zhimei, engrossed in her phone, listened quietly as Dou Yu spoke tenderly. Shi Rui gazed at him with sparkling eyes. Xiao Ma Ge, excluding Shi Rui from the group chat, messaged privately: “Look at Shi Rui—she’s ready to marry Yu Zhimei’s boyfriend. Dou Yu doesn’t notice, showing endless patience and charm: ‘Clients love talking about “tone.” It’s about how they present themselves and adapt to trends. Writing real estate copy hinges on location—mountains, water, airy layouts. Brands with culture should be hyped as premium. Like “eroticism”—reverse it, and it’s pornography. Nude art in museums is highbrow, in magazines it’s bourgeois entertainment, and blurred on phones, it’s vulgar. Write whatever the client wants.’”

“Yu Zhimei, Dou Yu’s quite cultured,” Jian messaged in the group chat.

“He talks a lot to girls. He loves chatting with women.”

Isn’t that flirtatious? The conversation lingered on risqué topics. Dou Yu seemed especially skilled at borderline TVC ads, casually discussing soft porn, evading censorship, and dropping punchlines effortlessly. Nearby tables drew closer, eavesdropping as if hearing scandalous industry gossip. Dou Yu laughed confidently: “If I keep talking like this, my girlfriend will get upset.” He nibbled on Yu Zhimei’s ear: “I’ll satisfy you when we get home.”

Jian didn’t know where to look. Xiao Ma Ge pretended to cover his eyes but peeked through his fingers: “Can you two tone it down? Save it for home, alright?”

Yu Zhimei calmly moved her chair: “Sorry, he’s insatiable.”

“It’s because you’re not satisfying him. How about I move in with you?”

“No. Money and having my own space—I truly believe in Woolf’s words. Letting love or marriage disrupt my life means losing myself quickly.”

“Who’s Woolf?” Dou Yu licked his lips and chuckled: “I wasn’t serious about moving in. Why so defensive? Baby, your biggest problem is using feminism to resist me. Refusing cohabitation and marriage—modern couples should form a united destiny, right?”

“You were the one who proposed splitting bills evenly. Remember? Eating cost 167 yuan, and you made me pay 83.5.”

Dou Yu’s expression darkened: “Don’t embarrass me in front of everyone. I’ve never dated anyone for more than six months. Staying with you this long proves I love you.”

This relationship felt like charity to Yu Zhimei. Jian was about to intervene when Xiao Ma Ge, sensing the tension, interjected: “He Jie, it’s midnight—time to settle the bill!”

When leaving, Dou Yu seemed slightly displeased but politely bid farewell to everyone. Stylish and relaxed, his hand rested beautifully on Yu Zhimei’s shoulder, adorned with three cross tattoos on his knuckles—distinctive and striking. Jian’s gaze followed Dou Yu out of the dessert shop and lingered on apartment 302’s door. Back home, he faced his cold computer screen, loneliness swirling like warm air from the AC. Leaving the balcony door open, he could still hear Yu Zhimei and Dou Yu arguing—each holding their ground. One insisted on independence and freedom; the other demanded submission. Jian waited anxiously, ready to leap over the balcony and rescue Yu Zhimei if things escalated.

“Why suddenly bring up moving in together? We’re not at that stage. You’re so popular—you wouldn’t want to live with me anyway.”

“Not at that stage? Then why did you agree to date me? What’s wrong with me? I spent 28,000 yuan on that drifting experience for you. Are you with me because of money? Speak up! Or is refusing to live with me because of Jian Zhaowen next door?”

Standing quietly on the balcony, Jian heard Yu Zhimei’s exasperated voice: “Stop bringing up Jian Zhaowen—he’s just my neighbor. And can you stop blaming everything on me? If finances are stressing you, I’ll pay you back for the drifting.”

“Baby, that’s not what I meant. I was joking. Drifting was expensive, and I need to impress clients too—understand me, okay? Or how about you move in with me? It’ll only cost 2,000 yuan if we split the rent. Jian Zhaowen is like a ghost next door. Every time I think of him, I get nervous, scared you might like him. I even forgot about Woolf yesterday—it was so embarrassing. I…”

The rest of the conversation was abruptly cut off as the balcony door closed, silencing the argument. This man seemed to hide many facets. The side he showed to others always aimed for perfection, yet hints of other sides would occasionally peek through. In the end, it was like rolling a die—when all six sides spun, no one could predict which one would land face up. Xiao Ma Ge sent a message over WeChat: “Are they fighting upstairs? I can hear everything clearly.”

Jian replied quickly: “If he dares to hit Yu Zhimei, I’ll jump over and kill him.”

After waiting anxiously all night, nothing happened. The next morning, as Jian was leaving for work, apartment 301’s door opened. Yu Zhimei stood there, hugging Lulu (her pet) and bidding farewell to Dou Yu with a kiss. What was this—a fight at the head of the bed, reconciliation at the foot? Jian deliberately lingered on the balcony, lighting a cigarette as Dou Yu walked out of the building. Once Dou Yu was gone, Jian knocked on Yu Zhimei’s door: “Are you two okay?”

“We’re fine,” she said casually.

“I heard you arguing last night.”

“It was nothing—just a small disagreement.”

“Is he… very chauvinistic?”

“He’s just childish. Did you hear us?”

“If you really don’t like him, break up. If it’s not working, isn’t it obvious you should separate?”

“There’s nothing wrong with him—he’s just… occasionally ‘calculating.’”

Jian had already rehearsed what to say: if Yu Zhimei showed even the slightest hint of unhappiness, he would confess his feelings and urge her to leave Dou Yu. But she exhaled through her nose, raised her eyebrows slightly, and then smiled faintly. That smile Jian understood—it was the same strained smile he’d worn when he couldn’t let go of Qiu Nuo. Love wasn’t something easily abandoned.