Chapter 62: The Human World

Perhaps not everyone is blessed with the ability to love others. I’m not trying to exaggerate the immense power of “love,” but for some people, living without love is like losing immunity to the world—and that’s not a good thing.

Adult romance is essentially a game of seduction, and no one can resist the allure of another’s body. Ever since Jian Zhaowen leapt over the terrace, what once symbolized distance and ambiguity—the air conditioning unit—became a launchpad. Whenever Jian heard the sound of the door latch turning, he would tiptoe onto the terrace, step onto the air conditioner, leap across, and quietly sneak up behind an unsuspecting Yu Zhimei from behind as she turned the handle of her terrace door. The first time he jumped over, he was met with a hammer blow to the head. Yu Zhimei’s face went pale as she recognized him, then burst into giggles. Jian walked around with a massive lump on his forehead for days, looking like a peach bun. Later, Yu Zhimei caught on to his antics and began hiding in corners of the room, surprising him when he least expected it. Eventually, Xiaoma sent a voice message, exasperated: “Can you stop jumping? It’s so noisy. The door is just a few steps away—it’s such a hassle to fix if something breaks!”

After listening to the voice message, Yu Zhimei laughed uncontrollably. She was still wearing a black velvet dress, with only her shoulders and legs exposed. She seemed to have become part of the velvet itself, her curves illuminated by the light, elegant and smooth. A partially concealed body could be more arousing than nudity—it was an unspoken understanding between them. Jian knew he had a good frame; every time Yu Zhimei lifted his shirt, she greedily stole extra glances. He also knew that licking a small patch of skin on the back of her neck would elicit a gasp—a sound like that of a small animal, stirring the most primal desires within him. Yu Zhimei loved to blindfold him and tease his body when he wasn’t paying attention. She would bite his earlobe relentlessly, as though making him moan gave her a sense of accomplishment. What he had once thought of as missionary-style lovemaking began to crumble under her tutelage. Yu Zhimei had many unexpected tricks up her sleeve—what she called a “talent.” He especially enjoyed it when she straddled him in various unusual positions. Closing his eyes felt like watching shifting stalactites in a cave, propelled forward by water, with warm sensations enveloping him. Each surge felt like a different stroke.

“Stop squeezing me.”

“What?”

“You know what I mean! Stop, stop, stop!” Jian took a deep breath. “If you keep squeezing, I won’t play with you anymore!”

Still, he couldn’t help but feel a twinge of jealousy toward those who had made her so skilled in this area. Sometimes, fueled by that jealousy, he would pin her down like a beast, kissing her until she was dizzy with desire. After the haze of passion dissipated, he would gently kiss the slightly swollen, moonlit skin of Yu Zhimei’s neck, her shoulders chilled by the air conditioning, like ice cream.

Not every night required passion. Sometimes, after work, he’d return home exhausted and craving companionship. Knocking on Yu Zhimei’s door became the best form of rest. Lulu curled up on the pillow next to his head, and before drifting off, he would gaze at Yu Zhimei’s face, finding peace only when he saw her sleeping soundly. One night, after they finished a bottle of tequila together, the room was thick with alcohol fumes. Jian assumed they’d fall asleep quickly, but he noticed Yu Zhimei still had her eyes open.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Listening to the sounds of the night.”

“Oh?”

“There’s a couple in the building across from us—they seem to argue at this time often, sometimes even smashing things. And the grandmother downstairs occasionally invites friends over to play mahjong. When I passed by once, I saw their living room. Her friends were fascinated by her jade mahjong tiles, but she still scolded them during the game. And after two in the morning, there’s always the sound of sports cars outside our building. Sometimes I can tell it’s an Aston Martin or guess how many cylinders a motorcycle has.”

“You really have a taste for this.”

“It’s not that. Sometimes I need to listen to these sounds; otherwise, the overly comfortable elegance of Shanghai would drive me mad. How do those people who live mundane, stable lives move me? They live so delicately and comfortably. Maybe where I grew up, people were more explosive, worrying about money and the future every day. To earn a little extra, they’d shovel snow at dawn or go ice fishing. But their emotions were warmer, more familial. In comparison, the coldness and precision of modern civilization don’t feel like ‘the human world.’”

“It’s the first time I’ve heard you say you dislike big cities.”

“It’s not that I dislike them—I just can’t get used to this calculated decency and habitual superiority. I know life here is easier, but its polite boundaries come with an indifferent detachment. Without dramatic ups and downs, empathy is lacking. I do love the vitality here, truly—but sometimes it makes me feel suffocated. Occasionally, I feel guilty living this self-centered life.”

He gently tucked the blanket around her, saying nothing more, just listening to the sound of cars passing by. Sometimes he missed the sound of pigeons whistling past his grandmother’s house or the stray cats that leapt over from the neighboring courtyard mansion to explore. If he told Xiaoma about these memories, he’d likely be interrupted with a rant about the skyrocketing property prices of old courtyard houses.

Perhaps this was the real reason Jian liked her.

________________________________________

After finishing work on the weekend, Jian spotted a beautiful new car beneath the company building: a matte green convertible Jaguar, its license plate not yet installed, radiating a mysterious emerald glow in the twilight. He took a photo and sent it to Yu Zhimei, who replied instantly: “I know. I recommended it to Le Zheng.”

“What?”

“Xiaoxi won the world championship abroad, and Le Zheng, overwhelmed with excitement, called me. I recommended it to him. He went straight to pick up a Jaguar F-Type and rushed to the airport.”

World champion. Thinking of Xiaoxi grabbing Le Zheng’s collar and kissing him passionately, then looking at the car in front of him, it was clear that Le Zheng and Xiaoxi were synonyms for impulsiveness. Back home, Yu Zhimei was squatting by the table cooking hot pot and said, “Supercharged 3.0-liter engine. So flashy. Le Zheng said he wanted a cool sports car, but not something common. So I recommended this one.”

She seemed quite pleased with her recommendation, but Jian wasn’t happy. “You’re always recommending cars to other people. Why don’t you recommend something nice to me?”

“You bought an Audi without asking me.”

“That was when you were dating someone else, okay?”

Yu Zhimei laughed. “You’re so jealous. If you want to change cars, I can help you sell yours and get a sports car.”

“What?”

“I know a lot about used cars. I even sell them as a side hustle for the company.”

“You sell cars for Brother Xing too?”

“Yes, I take a cut to buy cat food for Lulu. Used cars are fascinating. There’s a whole art to modifying them. Some cars depreciate when you buy them, while others appreciate in value—you wouldn’t expect it, but cars are a kind of investment these days. Take the Honda Fit, for example. Repairs are dirt cheap—even flood-damaged ones can be fixed for just two or three thousand yuan. It’s a godsend for modders, and sometimes the used ones are worth more than the new ones. As for the Porsche 997.2, its PDK transmission is legendary—basically a sure bet…”

“Modifications—are they like when Fujiwara Takumi’s dad swaps out the engine in Initial D ?”

“Exactly. Every car can be tuned after swapping parts. So you’ve seen Initial D , huh.”

“Of course. The AE86 racing up the mountain.”

“I knew you’d only remember that!” Yu Zhimei rolled her eyes, feigning disdain. “You’re such an uncultured person.”

“Once this busy period is over, do you want to go away for the weekend?” Jian sprawled on the floor, staring into Lulu’s eyes. “I’m tired of this two-point commute grind.”

“When?”

“This weekend? My new product is almost done. Once I hand it over to Le Zheng, he’ll let me go. I won’t stay a second longer in the office.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Xiaoma suddenly shouted from downstairs: “Where are you guys going? Take me with you!”

The consequences of leaving the screen door open meant their romantic getaway now included a lonely Xiaoma. As the car sped out of the city center, Xiaoma sat in the backseat, excitedly chatting about how long it had been since he’d gone out to eat and hang with friends.

Jian silently cursed inside, imagining a romantic hotel weekend with Yu Zhimei—drinking and strolling through the streets. He never expected Xiaoma to tag along. After an hour and a half of driving, Xiaoma hadn’t stopped talking since getting in the car. By the time they reached the hotel, he earnestly said, “Brother Zhaowen, you stay in the car while I check in with Yu Zhimei. Your meal card will give us away.”

Suffocating. Before leaving, Xiaoma had meticulously calculated that using the membership card for two rooms at Wanyu Hotel would save them 200 yuan. He insisted on booking the rooms himself. After waiting fifteen minutes, Xiaoma sent a WeChat message: “Happy hour starts at 5:30. Do you guys want to hit the gym?”

Jian flopped onto the bed in frustration. “How did this happen? My romantic getaway is ruined.”

“You don’t have to go to the gym,” Yu Zhimei said, sitting on the couch watching Xiaoxi’s competition replay. “We can just relax in the hotel.”

Before she finished speaking, a voice message arrived: “What do you guys want to eat tonight? Let me treat you. There’s a roast duck place nearby with great reviews. After happy hour, we’ll eat roast duck and then chill at the lounge—it’ll be so comfy!” Seeing they didn’t respond, he added two question marks for emphasis.

Their schedule was set. Jian stared at the ceiling, his mind wandering. “I came here to relax and enjoy romance, but now all I can think about is Xiaoma’s endless chatter on the drive here.”

“You’re lucky to have Xiaoma showing you around. You’re taking your blessings for granted.”

“You’ll regret this.” Jian lay on Yu Zhimei’s lap watching a video of Xiaoxi. Dressed in a revealing white Latin-style backless miniskirt and high heels, Xiaoxi was dancing fiercely. Jian sucked in a sharp breath, his face twitching. “Damn, he’s so hot.”

“Surprised? I told you—he’s incredible when he’s being himself.”

After a moment of contemplation, Jian pulled Yu Zhimei up. “No, you’re coming out with me. I finally escaped Le Zheng’s clutches, but seeing Xiaoxi reminds me of him. Damn it. I won’t let Xiaoma ruin my vacation.”

They stepped out into the night, Jian holding Yu Zhimei’s hand as they walked along the road, the wind tousling their hair. Sitting down in a café, Yu Zhimei softly spoke: “We’re not so different from the people around us.” Jian smiled. “Not necessarily. Couples come in many forms—childhood sweethearts, those who endure hardships for happiness, those who betray trust, and—those who aren’t accepted.” He pulled out his phone, opened the app Day & Night, and showed Yu Zhimei the screen. “This person is really popular on Daytime. Every time they post an emotional status, it gets featured on the homepage.”

The text on the screen read: “Unloved me—I am the abandoned street in a brightly lit city, the scrap iron rejected behind the antique shop, the damp moss hidden behind ivy-covered walls, the only thing in the world that lacks luster.” Jian folded the tablecloth in front of him. “This user registered early on. I’ve seen them go through breakups and reconciliations countless times. Recently, they must’ve broken up again. But Day & Night’s algorithm hasn’t provided much practical help. Perhaps not everyone is blessed with the ability to love others. I’m not trying to exaggerate the immense power of ‘love,’ but for some people, living without love is like losing immunity to the world—and that’s not a good thing.”

“Don’t elevate an app to such a lofty position. Would carrying so much guilt not tire you out?” Yu Zhimei tapped Jian’s hand. “Hurry up and drink. Afterward, I’ll take you for a drive.”

Neither of them seemed interested in aimlessly walking the streets. As the car moved along the road, shadows of trees and lamplights receded. Lights streamed out from buildings like ribs, illuminating the ancient city district. People zipped around on electric scooters, buses blocked the view, and private cars overtook each other. Competition seemed to be the rule of the road. Elderly men gathered around stone benches to play chess or cards, while mischievous children darted into the middle of the road, only to be hurriedly pulled back by anxious mothers. Amid the stop-and-go traffic, Yu Zhimei suddenly smiled. “This is it.”

A light, joyful feeling bubbled up inside Jian, like popping the cork off a bottle of champagne or waves lapping at the shore. Jian rolled down the window, letting his thoughts drift into the night. When his eyes grew dry from the wind, he heard Yu Zhimei say: “Escaping the city has always been my dream. I once thought about leaving Shanghai—it wasn’t that bad. But because you live next door, I’ve grown attached to this place.”

“Let’s leave together.”

“Don’t joke around. Day & Night has only been online for six months.”

“I’m serious. Nothing lasts forever. But if you want to live a free life, I’m willing to take you away. Together, we can make it happen.”

Yu Zhimei looked straight ahead, her eyes bright and thoughtful, saying nothing. Jian was curious. “Do you already have a plan?”

“Sort of. But I won’t say anything now. Let’s enjoy the present. I feel like we’re in a Fast & Furious movie—or maybe Thelma & Louise. What do you think?”