Psst! We're moving!
Shi Yin didn’t know what she had done to upset Gu Congli again. After a mysterious phone call ended abruptly, the editor-in-chief disappeared once more.
However, their relationship was strictly professional — just that of a responsible editor and a manga artist. When there was no work to be done, there seemed to be no need for contact either.
They weren’t friends, nor were they acquaintances. Even if her attitude toward him appeared natural, it was only to avoid awkwardness.
Their connection was purely work-related.
Shi Yin was very clear about this.
After finishing all her work, she enjoyed a few leisurely days. She slept in every day until she woke up naturally, ordered takeout when hungry, and spent her time gaming or watching shows.
After several indulgent and relaxing days, one night while showering, Shi Yin suddenly realized something troubling — she might have gained weight.
Women are highly sensitive to changes in their appearance and physique, and with just a quick glance, they can detect something amiss. Her stomach was starting to bulge!
Terrified, Shi Yin rushed to the nearby gym that afternoon in a panic.
She hadn’t lived in this neighborhood for long. Before, when she had little money, she rented a place farther out. After graduating, she chose her current apartment in a mid-to-high-end residential complex. It was conveniently located, had a great environment, and the rent was quite luxurious.
The area was equipped with everything from supermarkets to shopping malls, including a high-end fitness club. Most of its members were residents of the neighborhood. The facility was top-notch: a swimming pool on the first floor, gym equipment on the second, and various classes available.
On her first day, Shi Yin underwent a fitness assessment and asked the trainer dejectedly, “How long will it take to lose this belly fat?”
The trainer, flexing his toned muscles, scanned her abdomen back and forth for three whole minutes but couldn’t find any noticeable flab. Still, he professionally responded, “If you’re aiming for abs, you should start seeing results in about a month.”
Shi Yin had always been somewhat obsessed with getting abs. She envied the countless photos of beautiful women flaunting their toned stomachs on Instagram.
Unfortunately, she spent most of her time at home, rarely exercised, and lacked even a hint of muscle definition.
Thinking about her future self with a slim waist, toned legs, and chiseled abs — not to mention a sexy, sun-kissed complexion — Shi Yin became excited. She immediately purchased an annual membership, which came with 20 complimentary yoga classes.
After buying workout gear online, washing it upon arrival, and riding the wave of enthusiasm, she went to the gym the next day. She decided to check in every time she visited, taking a selfie in front of the gym mirrors. She posted it on social media with the caption: [If I don’t get abs this year, I’ll stop calling myself Shi Gugu!]
As expected, her post received merciless ridicule.
Fang Shu directly questioned her: [By the time you get abs, it’ll be winter. Then you’ll hibernate for three months and lose everything. What’s the point?]
Ergou was even sharper: [Stop pretending. I saw that hunky coach checking you out behind you. Admit it; you’re here for the muscle man.]
Shi Yin: “….”
Only then did she realize she accidentally captured the personal trainer in the photo too.
Ergou’s focus was undeniably gay-coded.
The summer newcomer contest coincided with the September issue, leaving Crimson Moon ‘s editorial department overwhelmed and working tirelessly.
Often, after the authors finished their work, it was the editors who truly began their battle.
During most urgent deadlines, the editorial office was filled with desperate cries as they chased submissions.
The Summer Manga Newcomer Award was co-hosted by several renowned publishers in the industry. Each publisher selected a few works, which were then judged by well-known manga artists and teachers to determine the top three rankings. However, the top seven works would all be published in the magazine, and to ensure fairness, reader popularity votes would decide the final standings.
The office buzzed with activity and noise. After reviewing the last manuscript at hand, Gu Congli stood up, walked out of the office, and headed to the lounge area.
He poured himself a cup of hot water and casually took a seat by the window.
From the large floor-to-ceiling window, he looked down at the miniature cars and people below. It was evening, the peak hour for commuting and school dismissal. Students from a nearby high school filled the streets, chatting and laughing as they walked in groups.
Gu Congli glanced across the street absentmindedly but then froze.
At the traffic light on the opposite side of the road stood a girl in her school uniform, facing the intersection sideways. Her uniform was neat, her long hair tied into a high ponytail. Perhaps because she’d been in school all day, her braid was slightly loose, and a few strands of hair hung down, clinging to her fair cheek.
The girl held a red can of sweetened milk, sipping through a straw while listening to her classmates talk. Whatever she heard made her laugh, pulling the straw out of her mouth. Her eyes curved, and her smile exuded the unique charm of youth.
Bright, bold, full of vitality and vivid colors.
Gu Congli narrowed his eyes.
From this angle, her profile bore a resemblance.
Even the milk she liked was the same brand.
Gu Congli found it perplexing why this particular brand of milk remained popular six years later. Out of curiosity, he once bought a can, but its overwhelming sweetness made him never want to drink it again.
Yet, it seemed girls loved it.
The things girls liked were always strange.
He stood up, tossed the paper cup into the trash, and returned to the office.
On the computer screen was a blank form with only one name filled in: Hong Ming .
After some thought, he lightly tapped the keyboard twice and added two more characters.
— Hong Ming Long Que (Red Cry Dragon Sparrow)
He figured, since she liked it.
Gu Congli thought it was still necessary to consider the author’s personal preferences.
He picked up his phone, opened WeChat, and didn’t immediately message anyone. Instead, he checked her social media.
There was a photo.
A woman wearing gray workout clothes, revealing her pale abdomen and slender waist. Below her athletic shorts were a pair of long, slim legs.
Behind her stood a man in a tight-fitting tank top, his gaze fixed on her. His dark skin resembled a nauseating, sticky, oily, yet affectionate piece of chocolate.
Shi Yin’s enthusiasm for the gym didn’t last beyond a week. She barely used her membership card, constantly telling herself she’d go tomorrow. But tomorrow always turned into another tomorrow.
Summer in S City was long, and even in September, the weather remained scorching. She didn’t want to leave her house, preferring to sit at home eating ice cream and enjoying the air conditioning. Forget about sweating on the treadmill or spin bike — even the allure of abs couldn’t keep her motivated.
However, she wasn’t completely without gains.
She met an elderly woman at the gym.
The older lady wore fashionable pink workout attire and had deep burgundy-dyed hair. Her style level was off the charts. She walked slowly on the treadmill next to Shi Yin.
Shi Yin thought this grandma was incredibly trendy and couldn’t help but steal a few extra glances.
When she turned her head, she met the woman’s smiling gaze.
Caught off guard, Shi Yin felt a bit embarrassed, greeted her, and struck up a conversation.
Later, Shi Yin visited the gym a few more times. Whether by fate or coincidence, she kept running into the elder, and they gradually became familiar.
The grandmother was in her seventies, a lively and robust woman who mostly walked slowly on the treadmill like she was strolling through a park — relaxed and content.
Her grandson had bought her the membership. Whenever she mentioned him, her eyes sparkled with pride. “My little grandson is such a filial child. He has a gentle temper and speaks softly to everyone. He’s been adorable since he was young.”
Shi Yin enthusiastically agreed, sincerely saying, “With your wonderful personality, your grandson must be charming too.”
Eventually, they exchanged contact information on WeChat. The elder didn’t know how to use it well, so Shi Yin patiently taught her how to send voice messages. They developed an unexpected friendship.
Early in September, Shi Yin received a call from Gu Congli.
It had been a month since the last abrupt hang-up, and she had nearly forgotten about him. While embracing her new persona of being a carefree NEET happily wasting away at home, her responsible editor finally remembered her, dutifully reminding her that she wasn’t unemployed.
At ten in the morning, having just crawled out of bed and finished washing up, Shi Yin answered the call while drinking yogurt: “Good morning, Editor-in-Chief.”
Gu Congli was already accustomed to her “morning.” During her intense work periods, she rarely woke up before 9:30 AM, let alone now during her break.
His voice was cold, seemingly multitasking as papers rustled in the background: “It seems Teacher Shi Yi is ready with the storyboard for Chapter Two.”
Shi Yin put down her yogurt cup, thinking she had misheard.
Hearing him call her “Teacher” for the first time gave her an unsettling feeling, as if she had betrayed her mentor.
She blinked, licking the yogurt from the corner of her lips: “No, what if I don’t make the cut? What if I don’t get the serialization opportunity?”
Gu Congli’s tone carried an odd sense of irony: “Teacher Shi Yi is truly humble.”
Flustered by his praise, Shi Yin replied modestly: “It’s alright, just doing what I’m supposed to do.”
“…”
Gu Congli seemed taken aback, falling silent for a moment before continuing: “Do you think you’ll have enough time to start drawing after confirming the serialization opportunity?”
Of course not.
She would inevitably pull another all-nighter like last time.
But Shi Yin was used to it.
Deep down, she knew starting early would make things easier, but she couldn’t bring herself to act until the last possible moment. Isn’t procrastination a fundamental trait of someone with deadline anxiety?
Thus, Shi Yin calmly said: “I’ll manage.”
Gu Congli paused briefly, his voice suddenly dropping, almost whisper-like: “Another five sleepless nights?”
Though his tone could almost be described as gentle, it sent shivers down Shi Yin’s spine. Goosebumps rose on her skin.
It felt as though icy hands reached out through the sound waves, fingertips lightly brushing against her ear.
The word “gentle” paired with Gu Congli was itself a terrifying concept.
Instinctively, Shi Yin shrank back, quietly protesting: “I do sleep, just not much…”
Gu Congli let out a soft “hmph,” his voice low and barely audible, colder than ice: “Next week, give me the storyboard for Chapter Two.”
“…”
Staring at the disconnected call, Shi Yin was bewildered, finally realizing something was off.
This person sounded like he was in a bad mood. Who knows who had upset this moody individual now.
His temperament lately was erratic, like someone going through menopause. You never knew when or why he’d suddenly become displeased.
Calculating it, Gu Congli was twenty-nine this year.
Could a man’s midlife crisis start at thirty?
Perhaps the demanding nature of their industry caused early-onset menopause.
After hanging up, Shi Yin prepared to search online for symptoms of male menopause when her WeChat beeped.
The notification read: [Gym Grandma].
The grandma sent a voice message asking if she was coming today. It had been a while since they last met, and she wanted to chat.
Shi Yin didn’t have any elderly relatives left, so meeting someone like this vibrant grandma was genuinely delightful. They had much in common, and she felt happy about it. Realizing she hadn’t been to the gym in a while, she figured the elder must have been feeling lonely, prompting her to reach out specifically.
Shi Yin replied promptly, not wanting to keep the elder waiting. She got up from the couch, changed into her workout gear — which had lost its honeymoon phase and was gathering dust — and headed out.
Her place was close, just a ten-minute walk. After changing into her clothes, she headed to the treadmill and immediately spotted the fashionable pink figure.
Seeing her, the elder was delighted, pulling her into conversation. Most of the talk revolved around her grandson: “My little grandson has always excelled academically.”
“He’s polite, handsome like a girl, quiet, and not mischievous like other boys.”
Amidst her praise, she started to worry: “But he doesn’t date. He’s at the age where he should settle down, yet he’s never brought a girlfriend home. I see families around me with great-grandchildren, but not me.”
Shi Yin smiled warmly: “Don’t rush, Grandma. In our generation, early marriage isn’t trendy anymore.”
The elder pouted, looking aggrieved: “I don’t understand you young people. I just want him to give me a great-granddaughter to play with.”
Shi Yin: “….”
She jogged while the elder strolled beside her, chatting. Around noon, the elder received a phone call.
A few minutes later, she hung up and returned, smiling: “My little grandson will come to pick me up soon. He’s taking me out for lunch. Would you like to join us?”
Shi Yin smiled, stepping off the treadmill to take a few gulps of water: “I won’t go. I’ll wait here with you until your grandson arrives.”
The grandma was delighted: “Alright.”
After a quick shower, the two sat in the first-floor lounge waiting.
Not long after, the grandma waved toward the entrance and smiled at Shi Yin: “My little grandson is here.”
Sitting with her back to the door, Shi Yin turned around upon hearing this.
A familiar, breathtakingly beautiful, icy face came into view.
Its owner walked over steadily, stopped, lowered his gaze, and gave her a fleeting glance before shifting his attention elsewhere, calmly addressing the elder: “Grandma.”
Shi Yin’s expression froze.
The elder’s earlier words echoed repeatedly in her mind.
— “My little grandson is such a filial child, with a gentle temper. He speaks softly to everyone and has been lovable since he was young.”
“…”
I must be blind.