Psst! We're moving!
“I might have overdone it earlier. I kicked it a bit too hard. Could it be my fault?”
Little Ma had no intention of letting people forget that he was the evil landlord. Early Saturday morning, he made a racket downstairs for an hour—the tenant in apartment 201, who usually kept to himself, accidentally burned the balcony while making late-night snacks. Little Ma nearly kicked him out on the spot, even though it was just a small blackened area on the wall. After some back-and-forth, he managed to extort six thousand yuan in compensation. On her balcony, Yu Zhimei slowly watered her plants as the noise drifted away with the sunlight. A bottle of alcohol still sat on the air conditioning unit—Jian Zhaowen’s discreet offering from a safe distance.
“Morning.” Jian poked his head out from next door, stretching lazily.
“Morning. Wasn’t Little Ma being loud? Didn’t you wake up?”
“Noise? I didn’t hear anything.”
“…”
She almost forgot—Jian Zhaowen, the sleeping god, couldn’t be woken by thunder or lightning. The sleep god pointed at the air conditioning unit, teasing Yu Zhimei for not taking the gift promptly. He seemed thinner than before; his ribs were visible under his T-shirt. His face was slightly swollen from sleep, giving him a more childlike appearance. Catching her gaze, Jian stared back, and Yu Zhimei blushed, turning away.
“Where are you going?”
“To work overtime.”
“Wait, I’ll come too. I want to see what your car show is all about.”
“No.”
Jian grabbed his clothes and chased after her. It was only a ten-minute walk to work, but with his long legs, he caught up with Yu Zhimei in no time. The sun shone brightly, as if mocking the recent rainy season. Yu Zhimei softened as she heard Jian humming behind her.
“Want a sandwich?”
“No, I don’t like them,” she said stubbornly.
“I’ve seen you eat sandwiches before. What floor are you on? I’ll buy one for you.”
“…Then I’ll go up first.”
Even on weekends, the coffee shop on the first floor of the office building had a line. Young people chatted and yawned, discussing cases and gossip. Most of the creative park housed digital media companies, where weekends were nonexistent. Since joining a big tech company, Jian had finally secured two days off per week. He worked on software late into the night and used the day for dating—a perfect balance. As he watched Yu Zhimei walk ahead, he hummed a tune, only to see her chatting with a man moments later. The man carried a jacket over his arm, wore a gray hoodie, and was slightly hunched over—but Yu Zhimei laughed brightly, even patting his shoulder. Who was this? Jian lived in the same building; this must be a colleague. He realized there were more competitors than he thought!
“Sir, we’re out of whole wheat bread. Can I substitute something else?”
“What? Sure, sure.”
“So, tuna or beef? Do you want onions and pickles? Olives? Mayonnaise or salad dressing?”
“All of it, just hurry up…”
“Three minutes, please.”
Three minutes?
Jian, holding a bag of breakfast and a hot latte, rushed to the elevator, where Yu Zhimei was waiting. But the moment the hot latte touched his lips, he choked. Questions fired from Jian like a machine gun: “Who was that guy you were talking to? Which floor is he on? Why is he working overtime on a weekend? What’s your relationship?”
“Brother, there are only five floors here. My company’s on the second floor. I took the elevator just to wait for you. That’s my partner, who handles content. I told you not to come—you’re just causing trouble. At least five or six people are working overtime today.”
Jian turned and walked away. Yu Zhimei panicked: “I’m not trying to chase you away, hey…”
Stopping in the queue, Jian called out crisply: “Go upstairs first—I’ll buy ten more coffees.”
When Jian arrived upstairs with two large bags of coffee, a meeting was already underway. Boss Xing sat at the foosball table, reviewing the shooting schedule on the whiteboard, planning where to film the next few cars. The new ad script was ready, and Monkey Brother held a stack of scripts, reading aloud: “Yu Zhimei, this script isn’t for me. Words like ‘charming’ and ‘dignified’—is this deliberately mocking me? Look at me, I’m just a comedian… Who ordered takeout?”
“Damn, how could this be takeout? This guy’s way too handsome.”
“…I, my neighbor. Let me get the door.”
Everyone looked toward the glass door. Jian wore a white hoodie, beige pants tucked into socks, a fisherman’s hat on his head, and a pair of Fear of God collaboration sneakers. Yu Zhimei glanced at him sideways—all the logos hidden carefully, the outfit meticulously coordinated. Clearly, he was someone who adored himself deeply, even strategically wearing the same sneakers as hers. She only noticed now.
“Yu Zhimei, you have a new boyfriend and didn’t tell us?”
“Hello everyone, I’m Jian Zhaowen, Yu Zhimei’s neighbor. I was bored on the weekend, so when she came to work overtime, I tagged along to see.”
“Welcome, welcome. We’re brainstorming during overtime—another person is perfect. Yu Zhimei, is this your boyfriend? Why keep it a secret? It’s been years since you mentioned having one—I thought you were still hung up on the past…”
Yu Zhimei gave Boss Xing a sharp look. Jian noticed but didn’t press further, instead chatting freely with Boss Xing about work—funding rounds, whether the company had an app, which platforms they released on. When Jian talked about his own work, Boss Xing slapped his thigh: “We desperately need this kind of algorithm—it could save us a ton on ad costs!”
“But such algorithms are usually only feasible in big companies—basically, if you have money to burn…”
“How much would it cost to hire you?”
Jian wasn’t embarrassed or dismissive, just said he’d help. Without flirting with Yu Zhimei, his intelligence and emotional quotient were fully online. Even from five meters away, Yu Zhimei could feel Boss Xing’s excitement. Their small content creation team was nothing compared to the social media startups that once dominated the scene. Still, Jian hid his halo, presenting himself as an ordinary senior engineer, humbly listening to Boss Xing recount the hardships of entrepreneurship. Monkey Brother leaned close to Yu Zhimei, whispering: “Boss Xing has finally found someone to vent his struggles to. Director, tell me secretly—is this guy the real protagonist of your script? Do you like him?”
“It’s true I’m interested in him, but the script is genuinely for you. Monkey Brother, don’t let your looks hold you back. An actor’s basic skill is to carry the aura of the main character.”
Monkey Brother chuckled and shouted to Boss Xing: “Boss, let Jian Zhaowen star in these two sponsored car shows!”
The group immediately headed to Nanjing for filming, calling clients to arrange sample cars. Yu Zhimei’s requests puzzled the client, but after reviewing the script, they reluctantly agreed. “Car Talk” essentially used a bit of storytelling to introduce the features, pros, and cons of cars, as well as whether they were worth buying. Though the plot wasn’t strictly necessary, the engaging story attracted a number of female viewers. Boss Xing, always courteous to useful outsiders, even let Jian sit in his beloved car. Jian sat in the passenger seat next to Yu Zhimei, with Monkey Brother reciting lines in the back. Deeply moved by how small and worn-out the car felt, Jian joked that he barely needed a seatbelt to stay put. Yet, Yu Zhimei drove the tiny Ling Shuai like a luxury sports car, her excitement palpable. They drove to the foot of Qixia Mountain, where Monkey Brother declared: “Alright, Jian Zhaowen, you’re this episode’s Qixia Mountain Car God.”
“Did Yu Zhimei write these lines?” Jian flipped through the printed script repeatedly, glancing at her.
“Of course. It’s her show. She’ll edit your footage later.”
“So I’m driving... this Ling Shuai?”
“Not exactly.” Yu Zhimei pointed to the two minivans behind them: “That one.”
Jian thought he misread: “A Jinbei? Who’s going to watch this?”
“Don’t underestimate it. In the ‘90s, a new Jinbei cost 300,000 yuan—it supported countless knockoff manufacturers. It’s the king of mini buses and logistics. The new model wants to pivot into business vans, and they hired us for ads. Paid job—let’s do it right.”
Two vehicles were prepared for filming. Yu Zhimei specifically borrowed an old model from the client for storytelling purposes—an ancient car over twenty years old, alongside a shiny new one gleaming in the sunlight. Monkey Brother still looked apologetic, and Jian shook his head at the script, licked his teeth, and shot Yu Zhimei a glare. From afar, Yu Zhimei watched as Jian initially stiffened but quickly got into character, playing opposite Monkey Brother as a nouveau riche second-generation heir and a small logistics boss, arguing over the car like a comedy duo. Midway through, Jian borrowed a leather coat, draped it over his shoulders, hunched his back, and stretched his neck forward like a thug—Yu Zhimei was both surprised and horrified. Jian, with his germophobia and distaste for messy clothing, sacrificed so much to become a drama king.
“Brother, judging by your outfit, you’re clearly someone... a nouveau riche landowner, perhaps?”
“Cut the chatter. I came here with 300,000 yuan. What’s so special about this car?”
“300,000? Sir, you flatter us. Do you think this is a Toyota HiAce? Only pure Japanese imports cost that much. After Brilliance introduced it, it became Jinbei—much more affordable! With 300,000, are you planning to buy multiple vans for logistics? Or maybe transport people? For short trips, this ten-seater can fit twenty people if squeezed… Hello everyone, welcome to this episode of Car Talk . Today, we’re introducing the king of cost-effectiveness in the logistics world…”
From afar, Yu Zhimei watched Jian’s exaggerated expressions. His lines grew smoother, and he added subtle gestures, completely unlike a first-time video performer. Perhaps this was another one of Jian’s strengths—he excelled at whatever he did. The cameraman and Xiaolong exchanged knowing smirks with Yu Zhimei—they were clearly teasing Jian for overacting. After wrapping up the shoot, the group packed up to return the cars. But the old Jinbei’s door wouldn’t close. Jian panicked: “I might have overdone it earlier. I kicked it a bit too hard. Could it be my fault?”
Monkey Brother scratched his head: “It shouldn’t be. But this car is twenty years old.”
Yu Zhimei saw Boss Xing and the client off in the new car, then returned to find Jian scratching his head, looking increasingly like Monkey Brother: “What’s wrong?”
“The door seems broken.”
“Oh. Let me handle it. Monkey Brother, take the Ling Shuai first. Jian Zhaowen and I will catch up with you. Jian, get in.”
This broken Jinbei? Jian hesitated but climbed in and sat in the middle. The car reeked of gasoline, and its doors hung open. Yu Zhimei started the engine and glanced back at Jian: “Hold on tight—I’m driving.”
“With the doors open?”
“Yes. Hold on.”
“You can’t be serious, Yu Zhimei. Are you planning to drive with the doors open and bring my head straight to the client to apologize?”
Yu Zhimei released the clutch, shifted gears, and sped off, only to slam on the brakes suddenly before Jian could react. The door slammed shut with a bang, leaving silence in its wake. The abruptness felt like a slap across Jian’s face.
Yu Zhimei acted as if nothing had happened: “Old Jinbeis are like that. You guys clearly didn’t play with enough cars as kids.”
________________________________________
P.S.: Thanks for reading! Recent chapters have been lighter, so consider it sweet romance~ If you like it, please add it to your bookshelf and vote for recommendations! Waiting for everyone to chat today!