Chapter 16
“THIS STORY OF YOURS… How should I put it?”
On Tuesday, Zhang Yuwen returned to the publishing house for spiritual reform. Once again, the young, bespectacled deputy editor was assigned to him; he still had that sharp glint in his eyes.
Leaning against his desk with a cup of coffee in hand, the deputy editor somberly critiqued Zhang Yuwen. “Your story isn’t interesting.
That’s it: uninteresting. Maybe you, too, find this story lackluster, bland, and lacking that”—he made a gesture like fireworks—“emotional intensity. Feelings that resonate with people. Maybe you find it boring yourself…” Zhang Yuwen wanted to explain, but he decided to drop it.
“…Or maybe you find it interesting and think it’s not all that bad,” the deputy editor continued. “Either way, you’re so disconnected from most of your readers that they can’t relate to your writing. The storyteller narrates with gusto, but the listener finds it boring.”
Zhang Yuwen humbly accepted his criticism.
“No offense, but you’re single, right? You’re not in a relationship?”
the deputy editor asked.
“No,” Zhang Yuwen answered numbly. It wasn’t the first time the deputy editor had asked him this.
“So, when you write about feelings, you’re conjuring them entirely from your imagination. Take, for example, this whole chapter of 20,000 words.” The deputy editor circled a large section with a red pen. Zhang Yuwen rubbed his face and nodded earnestly, preparing himself for a serious discussion over this plot point. “It’s completely unnecessary.”
“All right,” Zhang Yuwen said. “I’ll reflect on it when I get back.”
“Mundanity—that’s the most pressing issue you need to address,” the deputy editor said meaningfully.
Mundanity was an issue everyone had to address, not just Zhang Yuwen. Most people led uninteresting lives, toiling on like Sisyphus, day after day, year after year. The occasional fleeting moment of joy was but a mere reflection of dew on a tiny flower along the path where the boulder was being pushed uphill. When the sun rose, it would all vanish.
Zhang Yuwen reflected on himself. He thought he’d been living a fulfilling life, but at some point, that had started to change. Perhaps his one relationship had exhausted all his sense of romance and left him bland.
He’d once hoped to travel the world with the person he loved, but now he was alone, and traveling was just aimless wandering. He couldn’t dredge up any enthusiasm for it. Everyone had moments like this in their life.
Games that had kept Zhang Yuwen up all night abruptly became boring, and drama series he was once hooked on now seemed meaningless. He didn’t want to attend gatherings because it was too much trouble, and he didn’t want to participate in activities because he was tired. He felt mired in a long period of listlessness.
Huo Sichen: Hows ur day?
Zhang Yuwen: I showed the editor the manuscript. He called me bland, boring.
Huo Sichen: U r not boring at all. U hv an interesting soul.
Zhang Yuwen: I’m reflecting on myself. Maybe he’s right. My life is bland, and the cause is my personality.
Huo Sichen’s status remained as “Typing…” for about three minutes before he sent his thoughts. Mayb ur novel’s got too many certainties. Bland is just another word for predictable. Everything’s set in stone even b4 it happens.
Zhang Yuwen suddenly saw the light. Ur right, thx, I think it’s bc theres no thrill, too few surprises in life.
Huo Sichen: So u gonna create something thrilling?
Zhang Yuwen: Nah. I’m not one for seeking thrill. Mayb there was a time I was, but now, nah. Hm…lemme think abt it.
Zhang Yuwen was staring blankly at the computer when he heard the door open. It was Yan Jun—which, given the timing, took him by surprise, but he didn’t pry. “Have you had lunch?” he asked.
“Yup.” Yan Jun set down his bag and sat at the dining table. “I went to the market today and passed by Riverbay Road. I felt like slacking off, so I came back for a break.”
“You’re not dressed for the weather.” It felt to Zhang Yuwen like Yan Jun was emanating cold air that he had brought in from outside. No matter how cold the weather was, Yan Jun always wore a sweater over a shirt with the collar turned up, complete with a long, black body-fitting trench coat, never a down jacket.
“It’s fine.” Yan Jun smiled and got up. “I’ll make coffee.”
Zhang Yuwen looked at his back. He seemed a little different today.
“Did you learn to make coffee?” Zhang Yuwen asked.
“Yeah, Jinxing taught me. What did you do today? Working on your manuscript at home?”
“Yeah. I went to the publishing house.”
“How’s progress on the manuscript?”
Yan Jun made two mugs of coffee and placed them in front of Zhang Yuwen. Then he sat beside him and moved closer to put a hand on the back of his chair. Astounded, Zhang Yuwen laughed. “What did that playboy teach you?”
“Huh?” Yan Jun froze for a moment. “Playboy? Who?”
“Just kidding.” Zhang Yuwen had a sneaking suspicion that Yan Jun had picked up bad habits from Chang Jinxing. The prospect of Yan Jun looking at his manuscript made him nervous and embarrassed, so he quickly closed the document, revealing the chat window with his conversation with Huo Sichen. He closed that one as well.
“Do you need any material?” Yan Jun thought for a moment. “I could share some of my experiences with you when I have the time.”
“Sure, but I need time to organize what I already have first. I’ll ask you again when I’m ready, okay?” Zhang Yuwen had been thinking about that “interesting” question, and when his eyes met Yan Jun’s, a curious thought popped into his head. “You aren’t Han Chinese, are you?”
“You can tell?” Yan Jun asked, surprised.
“Yeah.” Zhang Yuwen hesitated. “You have some indigenous characteristics.” The highland indigenous people had slightly deeper facial features and a higher nose bridge, and their skin tone was darker in comparison to the average Han Chinese person’s.
“My father is indigenous,” Yan Jun confirmed.
“Oh, no wonder. I thought you were a bit different when I first met you.”
Yan Jun’s hometown, Guangze County, had a large population of highland indigenous people. They intermarried with the Han Chinese, and their descendants possessed characteristics of both groups.
“So you’re mixed-blood,” said Zhang Yuwen.
“Pretty cool, isn’t it?” Yan Jun laughed.
Zhang Yuwen laughed too. “You must be very good at singing.”
“I’m okay, I guess? The highland people like singing and sports. I used to live by the sea, and they all loved singing. But I only spent a lot of time with them when I was studying in the countryside. Once I started high school, those cultural distinctions evaporated.” Yan Jun held the coffee mug with his broad hands, looking lost in thought. “My brother was a wonderful singer when he was alive.”
“My grandma was a good singer too,” Zhang Yuwen said.
In a voice that was warm and magnetic, Yan Jun spoke about the time when he first came to Jiangdong City to find work. His first job was in telemarketing, where his voice proved to be an asset. In those days, he was poor, naive, and ignorant of the way society worked, but he was happy. He lived with his brother and sister-in-law and went to work every day with drive and enthusiasm, hoping for a better life.
Zhang Yuwen listened quietly without interrupting. When Yan Jun came to the car accident, they both fell silent. Just then, Yan Jun’s alarm went off.
“I have to get back to work.” Yan Jun cleared away the coffee mugs and went to wash them in the kitchen.
“Work hard,” Zhang Yuwen said. He decided to spend the afternoon working hard, too, on his manuscript.
Zheng Weize arrived, having just woken up. He yawned. “Can I have a cup of coffee?”
“Sure.” Zhang Yuwen got up. “I’ll pour a mug for you.”
Zhang Yuwen didn’t know how to make coffee by hand, so he used the coffee machine to make two mugs and handed one to Zheng Weize.
Zheng Weize was resting his head on the table, looking at his phone while keeping an eye on Chang Jinxing’s movements, but Chang Jinxing never got out of bed. Zheng Weize finished his coffee and returned to his room.
Chang Jinxing finally woke up at 3 p.m., when he emerged to make coffee, including a mug for Zhang Yuwen.
“No, no. No thanks,” Zhang Yuwen said. “I’ve already had two in a row.”
Chang Jinxing’s expression could only be described as heartbreaking. “You’ll drink coffee someone else makes but not mine?”
He was so handsome… Zhang Yuwen had no choice. He added lots of sugar and milk to make short work of it.
Chang Jinxing leaned against Zhang Yuwen ingratiatingly. “Does your publishing house have any photography jobs?”
“Ran out of cash?” Zhang Yuwen asked.
Every day, Chang Jinxing straddled the line between riding women’s coattails and standing on his own two feet. If he continued like this, he’d end up returning to his old ways. His clients’ unreasonable demands were grating on his nerves, too. Even after the job was done, those rich ladies wanted him to keep chatting with them late into the night and sympathize with their sorrows about their husbands’ infidelity. It irritated him that the only way to keep from offending his regulars was to serve as their emotional dumping ground, and he feared that the husbands would suspect they’d been cuckolded and come and beat him up. That would be one hell of a mess. He decided to cool it for a while and find another job to keep himself fed with.
“I’d like to build up some savings,” he said.
“I’ll ask around for you,” said Zhang Yuwen.
Chang Jinxing snapped his fingers and went to change clothes. Then he went to the fridge, grabbed and pocketed Chen Hong’s gym prep meal —a sandwich made with whole wheat bread—and left. Zhang Yuwen glanced at Zheng Weize’s room and sighed inwardly.
Chen Hong returned just as Chang Jinxing left. He’d been out and about, giving his gym members private home lessons. It was so frigid outside he kept shivering as he lingered in the foyer, finishing up a phone call. Once he was done with his call, he entered the house. Seeing his tenants come and go daily, Zhang Yuwen felt like he was watching the ebb and flow of life.
Chen Hong had been too busy to eat, but now he returned, famished, to find the last bit of his spiritual comfort gone. “Where’s my lunch?!” he howled.
“Jinxing took it,” Zhang Yuwen told him. “There’s leftover rice from my lunch. You can eat it with some sauce.”
Chen Hong was too hungry to even care about carbs. He gobbled up a few mouthfuls and then went to make coffee.
Zhang Yuwen paled. “I really can’t take any more,” he said. “I already had three mugs of coffee.”
But Chen Hong insisted on handing him a mug. “It’s decaffeinated.
I bought the beans separately.” Zhang Yuwen was forced to accept it.
Chen Hong continued, “I found you a suitable match. You wanna meet him?”
Zhang Yuwen whipped his head up. He hadn’t expected Chen Hong to find someone so quickly, and he suddenly felt nervous. “What does he look like?”
“Uh, he’s one of my clients,” Chen Hong said vaguely. “He’s a little shy and would rather not share his photo. I didn’t give him your photo either. I just said that you…have lots in common.”
“Huh? Not even a photo? Are you telling me to go in blind?” Zhang Yuwen asked. “Isn’t that a bit much?”
“Well, it’s important to have some excitement in your life.”
A day ago, Zhang Yuwen might have disagreed, but now he was wondering if his life was too predictable. Maybe he did need a little thrill.
“Then I’ll add his contact for a chat.”
“He’s…also too shy to add you as a contact,” Chen Hong said, shutting Zhang Yuwen up instantly. “Look on the bright side. If you meet and he’s no good, you can just pick up and leave with no concerns whatsoever, right?”
“What the hell?!” Zhang Yuwen was torn between laughter and tears.
“He’s willing to have a meal with you so you can have a conversation and get to know each other. If you guys think it’s a good match, you can exchange contact info.”
“How old is he?”
“In his twenties, the same as you,” Chen Hong said. “Whether he’s a top or bottom, I have no idea. I didn’t ask.”
“What type of guy is he? And how tall?”
Chen Hong shrugged. “All I can say is that he basically meets your requirements. No, actually, he’s your ideal type, aside from not being a Cancer. You’ll be satisfied with him. Whether or not he’ll be satisfied, I can’t say. After all, I know you better.”
“Is he a lively and bubbly younger guy?” Zhang Yuwen asked. He could go with it. He didn’t mind if they didn’t get together in the end; a fling would be fun too.
Chen Hong changed the topic. “So, will you go? I promise I didn’t tell him much about you, but he told me once that he likes your type.”
Zhang Yuwen gave him a skeptical look. “He’s already made a reservation at this restaurant. You decide if you want to go or not. If not, I’ll tell him to cancel it.”
Chen Hong showed Zhang Yuwen a website on his phone. Zhang Yuwen had been to the restaurant before. It was pretty expensive. “At such an expensive place?” Zhang Yuwen asked, a little surprised.
“He said he’d treat you. You can drive the landlord’s car.”
Zhang Yuwen’s car was a Bentley coupe. It was even more expensive than Huo Sichen’s car, but he had told everyone that it was the landlord’s property and that he only took it out for an occasional spin.
“Are you going to go?” Chen Hong asked again.
“You haven’t told me anything about him!” Zhang Yuwen said.
“I’m totally going in blind?”
“He’s also going in blind. It’s fair.”
“Well, I guess I’ll go, since he already made the reservation. Is he still in school?”
“I think he’s working already. Seems like a young talent?” Chen Hong said. “I’ll reply to him, then. It’ll be on Wednesday—tomorrow night.”
Filled with uncertainty, Zhang Yuwen agreed. This blind date was as nerve-wracking as the first time he joined a film crew and participated in a shoot. He hadn’t felt this kind of thrill in years.
He couldn’t help but imagine what his blind date might look like.
He couldn’t sleep after the four mugs of coffee he’d drunk in the afternoon, so he was tossing and turning in bed when it dawned on him:
Maybe this was the “uncertainty” he had been seeking. But man, this was a bit too much excitement… Oh! It was already five in the morning! Zhang Yuwen felt like going out for a run, but, like, seriously, did he really have to jump from extreme boredom to extreme excitement so abruptly?
Zhang Yuwen finally got up in the afternoon. His stomach was churning over his impending blind date, but he didn’t plan to turn to his roommates for comfort. Wasn’t this anxiety what he’d been looking for?
Having finally captured that fleeting feeling, he sat down to put it to page, but when he opened his laptop and saw the mountain of trash that had accumulated over his days of work, he didn’t know where to start.
Left with no choice, he opened another document to start a new story, writing in fits and starts. He couldn’t focus, though, and his thoughts drifted to how he should present himself that coming night. A little more mature? Or younger? Some bottoms liked the gentle, cheery big brother type, but others preferred mature and steady tops… Huh? Was it already four in the afternoon? Zhang Yuwen hadn’t taken his lunch except for a mug of coffee, but he wasn’t hungry. He got up and went to change his clothes, wondering if he should drive to the blind date. He wouldn’t want to walk to the subway on such a cold day, and he didn’t want to wear too many layers of clothes and end up looking bloated, either.
Chen Hong was back, taking off his shoes in the foyer. “Going out already?”
“Yeah,” said Zhang Yuwen, unsurprised to find Chen Hong there.
He’d heard the motorcycle earlier.
“Good luck.” Chen Hong was very calm, as if he had no doubt that Zhang Yuwen would succeed, and his matchmaker fee was already in the bag.
“I didn’t sleep last night,” Zhang Yuwen said tiredly.
“Go now. Don’t be late.”
Zhang Yuwen lingered. He made one last attempt. “At least give me his number, in case something unexpected crops up.”
“That won’t happen,” Chen Hong said. “Go, go. You can call me anytime.”
Zhang Yuwen wore a casual linen suit. When he’d seen Huo Sichen dressed like this, he thought it looked cool, so he emulated the look and topped it off with a scarf. But all the crowding and jostling on the packed subway during peak hour messed up his carefully curated outfit and his hair, making him look like a tired office worker.
The closer he got to his destination, the more nervous he became.
He remembered how amused he’d been to see his ex get flustered in front of him. He was used to being the dominant party in the relationship, even if one relationship was all the experience he had. How had he become the weaker one?
Maybe the other guy is nervous too? Zhang Yuwen thought, calming himself down a little.
He needed to talk to someone, or he couldn’t relax. He thought it over, then sent a message to Huo Sichen. I’m going on a blind date tdy.
Huo Sichen: ?
Zhang Yuwen took a selfie in the subway car and sent it to him.
So handsome, Huo Sichen said. When Zhang Yuwen started ranting about the literally blind date, he noted, It’s normal for Chen Hong not to tell u too much abt his clients.
Zhang Yuwen: He said they’re my ideal type.
Huo Sichen: wats ur ideal type?
Zhang Yuwen: thats not impt. I was 2 nervous last night 2 sleep much.
Huo Sichen: u can do it.
Zhang Yuwen: wat if it doesnt work out?
Huo Sichen: Then u better sit down and finish the meal. Its such an expensive restaurant.
Zhang Yuwen: The other person’s paying.
Huo Sichen: Rly? get me takeout while ur thr.
Zhang Yuwen laughed despite himself.
Huo Sichen: If u do end up tgt, I mean IF, will u introduce ur partner to me?
Hesitating, Zhang Yuwen didn’t reply immediately. He didn’t quite understand what Huo Sichen meant by that and carefully thought it over.
This “partner” would be a guy, and in introducing him, he would be essentially coming out to Huo Sichen. Could he do that? Maybe. A moment later, though, it dawned on him that this was Huo Sichen asking about their friendship.
Huo Sichen assumed Zhang Yuwen was straight. When a straight guy introduced his girlfriend to another straight male friend, it came at a risk. The grass was always greener on the other side, and introducing them might increase the odds of being cheated on.
Effectively, Huo Sichen was saying: Zhang Yuwen, we’re buddies, right?
It was a little late by the time Zhang Yuwen worked this out, but he still replied candidly. Ofc, we can hang out together. I swear I wont ditch u even if I’m dating.
Huo Sichen didn’t reply.
Zhang Yuwen exited the subway station and entered the bustling commercial district by the river. The area was full of upscale shopping malls and office buildings. The tallest building, Hengxin Tower, was a Jiangdong landmark. Impeccably dressed pedestrians thronged the streets, their spending limits off the charts. Lights illuminated the huge store facades of Hermès, LV, and Tiffany spanning three or four floors, making them look like crystals on a crown. Coming here felt like stepping into a futuristic movie, where skyscrapers intersected, and neon lights flashed through the night.
The restaurant his blind date had booked was on the 105th floor of Hengxin Tower. He had to go through a security check when he entered the building. Neon colors glittered on all sides of the lift as it carried him toward the faraway unknown, causing his nervousness to hit through the roof on his way up.
Zhang Yuwen stood before the restaurant reception counter. The waiting area was already packed with people. “Table forty-seven.”
“Please follow me,” said the handsome waiter, politely leading Zhang Yuwen inside. Zhang Yuwen’s nerves reached a crescendo.
Across a quiet table for two in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows, he finally saw his blind date:
Huo Sichen.