Chapter 33: Even if You Sell Cabbage, You Can’t Sell Heroin
Jiang Xiaoyuan had no idea that just a street away, a romantic conversation about her was unfolding. She heated the Laba porridge brought by Boss Chen using the shop’s broken microwave. After tasting it, she deduced that Boss Chen must have made it himself—because it was packed with ingredients and tasted good. If it were store-bought, it would probably have been expensive, and Boss Chen wouldn’t be willing to spend that much.
After Chen Fangzhou left, the large hair salon suddenly felt empty. The bright light of Mingguang the virus seemed to come alive, making its presence known everywhere—from the faintly reflective microwave door to the various mirrors scattered around. There was no escaping it.
Jiang Xiaoyuan felt like a walking remote control—wherever she went, the TV would turn on, and she couldn’t even change the channel.
She held a plastic spoon in her mouth, first fishing out the small, pitifully cute sweet dates from the porridge to eat, then pushing aside the clumsy and bulky beans. Calmly, she sat in front of the TV, watching her life in another world as if she were watching a drama.
The first time she saw this, it shocked her. The second time, it hurt. By the third time, she had become numb.
Jiang Xiaoyuan had watched this about thirty times. By now, she was far beyond numb—she was nearing paralysis.
When the show ended, a message popped up on the screen asking for her feedback: “Will you embark on the journey?”
With a blank expression, Jiang Xiaoyuan spat out a date pit and said: “No. Get lost. Things are fine here.”
The TV unexpectedly flicked off with a “snap,” and the thousands of glamorous illusions before her vanished into smoke.
What a joke.
Jiang Xiaoyuan, still expressionless, savored the taste of the date for a moment, then boldly downed the entire bowl of Laba porridge in one gulp.
The virus’s wheel-like temptation was too much, and it began to have a counter-effect on her. Instead of breaking her fragile heart, they ignited the last bit of fire in her.
Every person has a spark of resilience, and everyone longs for self-fulfillment. It’s a natural instinct, though it may be distorted in some.
Jiang Xiaoyuan had been disheartened by her failures, but after witnessing Chen Fangzhou’s life, she realized she couldn’t accept such a fate. So, she decided to “rise from the ashes”, gritting her teeth and pushing forward.
That evening, for the first time, Jiang Xiaoyuan applied the shop’s makeup to herself. She gave herself a vibrant “peach blossom” look, donned the exaggerated pink coat Qi Lian had bought for her, modified the flyer’s content, shifting the focus from daily makeup to “stage makeup,” and added a note at the bottom: “Students get a 10% discount.”
Then she fought her way out of the bitter cold wind and went to the street.
People say the little match girl froze to death like this. But the girl selling makeup was still alive because she had a fire inside her that refused to be extinguished.
The next day, when Jiang Xiaoyuan arrived at the shop, she saw that someone had hung a countdown sign on the business’s promotional board outside. It indicated that the sale had five days left, seemingly urging customers to take advantage of the discount. In reality, Jiang Xiaoyuan knew this was Helen and the others mocking her.
However, after this ordeal, Jiang Xiaoyuan’s skin had grown thicker by the day, and her heart had hardened. She glanced at the countdown sign without a flicker of emotion, ignoring Helen and her crew’s provocations.
Jiang Xiaoyuan casually walked past the sign and greeted Chen Fangzhou in the break room: “Boss Chen, how did the blind date go yesterday?”
Chen Fangzhou poured her a cup of milk tea brought by someone, and seemed to be in a good mood: “Pretty good.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan knew there was hope. “Wow! So, she…”
Before she could continue, Chen Fangzhou quickly interrupted her, gesturing for her to keep quiet. He whispered, “She’s a nurse. Not much to look at, but she seems nice, down-to-earth, like someone you could settle down with. The best part is, she’s not tall, so no one feels insecure… But hey, do you think wearing cologne yesterday made me seem unreliable?”
When he said this, there was an unspeakable expectation on his face, but it was not the expectation of a mandarin duck and butterfly[mfn]In Chinese culture, “Mandarin ducks” (鸳鸯) and “butterflies” (蝴蝶) are symbols often associated with romantic love and harmony. The term “Mandarin ducks and butterflies” (鸳鸯蝴蝶) is used metaphorically to represent a loving couple or the ideals of romantic affection.[/mfn].
It seems as if the words “getting by” can wipe away all the passion and suffering in life, including the future, hope, and love.
Jiang Xiaoyuan’s smile faltered for a moment, and she suddenly felt a pang of sadness.
Just then, the receptionist answered a phone call and said to Jiang Xiaoyuan, “Stylist, phone for you!”
Jiang Xiaoyuan quickly responded, ready to engage in her next battle.
Her efforts in promoting stage makeup the night before hadn’t been in vain. With the year-end performances and events, the shop received two phone calls that day from nearby white-collar office workers, inquiring about group bookings for their company’s annual event.
Jiang Xiaoyuan perked up, employing all the sales tactics she had learned from Helen over the past few weeks, charming the customers into coming to the shop for a look.
Unfortunately, both orders were small, fewer than ten people combined, and the appointments were likely after the promotion period had ended.
By then, the daylily was cold[mfn]The daylily being cold implies that something or someone once vibrant or full of potential (like the daylily) has become cold or unwelcoming, possibly due to a lack of care, affection, or attention. [/mfn].
As Jiang Xiaoyuan washed a customer’s hair, her mind raced—how could she get them to pay in advance?
When the store was about to close that night, Qi Lian dropped by the shop.
He felt guilty for coming by so often but couldn’t resist checking in. He mentally cursed himself while stealthily entering the shop.
His hair wasn’t growing fast enough to justify another cut, but the receptionist recognized him. “Mr. Qi, are you here to see Boss Chen? What can we do for you today?”
Qi Lian: “Uh, I…”
Was it too much to ask the boss just for a shampoo?
Before he could come up with an excuse, Chen Fangzhou chimed in loudly, “He’s not here for a haircut, he’s here for a styling!”
The receptionist didn’t expect that there would be a psychopath who came to get his hair styled in the middle of the night, and looked at Qi Lian with surprise.
Chen Fangzhou called out again, “Stylist!”
Qi Lian wanted to sew Chen Dalong’s mouth shut. He had come with pure intentions, but Chen’s pimp-like shouting made him feel awkward.
Jiang Xiaoyuan was sensitive to the word “stylist” and immediately turned around. “Hmm?”
Seeing Qi Lian, she was surprised and set aside the brushes she was cleaning. “Why are you here?”
“Ah? Hmm…” Qi Lian lowered his head nonchalantly, and his natural talent for fabricating stories came to the fore as he casually said, “Just here to get a haircut. I have a dinner party tonight.”
Since Qi Lian was her creditor, Jiang Xiaoyuan treated him warmly as spring, saying, “Sure, I’ll do it for you.”
Qi Lian quietly followed her inside. When his eyes met Chen Fangzhou’s, he suddenly felt that the air in the salon had been tainted by Chen’s dirty thoughts.
Just as they were about to step inside, a young girl, about sixteen or seventeen, walked in. She carried a small cloth bag and looked like a student who had wandered into the wrong classroom.
As she entered, she sniffed and looked around, confused.
The receptionist asked, “Are you here for a haircut?”
“No,” the girl replied, “Um… do you have a stylist here? I’m looking for a stylist.”
How strange. Everyone seemed to be looking for a stylist today.
The receptionist picked up the intercom behind the counter: “Ms. Xiaoyuan, Ms. Xiaoyuan, please come to the front desk. There’s a customer looking for you.”
To maintain a professional and high-end appearance, the shop addressed everyone, from senior stylists to interns, as “Ms.” or “Mr.”[mfn]While Lao Shi (老师) means teacher, it could be used as a form of respect or courtesy towards someone with expertise or authority in a certain area, not just in educational settings. Hence why Mr. or Ms. was used.[/mfn] when calling them over.
Hearing this, Qi Lian quickly said in relief, “You go ahead and do your thing. I’m just here to get a shampoo. Anyone will do.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan had no choice but to leave him to Lily, who happened to be free.
The young girl, seeing Jiang Xiaoyuan, immediately took out her phone and dialed a number. “Hey… yeah, I’m here, I found her… okay, you can talk to her.”
She then handed the phone to Jiang Xiaoyuan. “Here.”
It had been a while since Jiang Xiaoyuan had held a smartphone, so she felt a bit awkward. “Hello?”
A distinctive voice came from the other end: “It’s me, Jiang Sam. Do you remember me?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan of course remembered. Teacher Jiang had a very unique way of speaking, always carrying a tone that made it feel like he was “bestowing favor”, making everyone in his presence seem like a little eunuch.
At first, she was puzzled, but after a few more words, Jiang Xiaoyuan felt like Lady Luck had just smacked her in the face.
Jiang Sam said, “This art troupe is dirt poor. They can’t even afford a makeup artist, so they asked me to do some side gigs. It’s so low-class. I can’t be bothered with it, plus my mom’s harassing me about remarrying, calling me every day. I don’t have the time. Can you help me out? Just do something simple, no need to go all out.”
Empress Dowager Jiang wasn’t just asking for a favor; he was saving her life!
The “empress dowager” continued, “Generally, I charge per person for this kind of work, 300 per person. Since they asked someone to find me, it’s not easy to raise the price. How about this, you do this job first. If your store charges higher, I will pay the difference myself when I go back. By the way, how much does your stage makeup cost?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan said, “…One hundred and eighty.”
Empress Jiang: “Damn, are you selling cabbage?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan, with tears in her eyes: “Even if it’s cabbage, it can’t be sold as heroin!”
“Alright,” Jiang Sam paused, “That’s a bargain for them—well, you helped me this time, and I’ll think of you next time there’s a benefit.”
Thus, Jiang Xiaoyuan gained a cheap lifelong “father” — of course, given the current situation, not only would she acknowledge Empress Jiang as her “father,” she might as well accept her as a grandmother.
Once the client was arranged, the next day Chen Fangzhou specially left the keys for Jiang Xiaoyuan. She set three alarm clocks, had everything ready by 3:30 a.m., and prepared to open the door to welcome guests.
The group of young girls from the art troupe arrived at the shop at 4:30, all very quiet — they were sleepy. The ones in front were doing makeup, while those in the back were dozing off. They were all as thin as bamboo poles, looking like a bunch of fragile young seedlings in the cold winter morning.
To let them rest better, Jiang Xiaoyuan turned off the extra lights, leaving only a small light on the workbench, like a tiny stage for herself, softly shining in the darkness before dawn.
There were many people from the art troupe, but Jiang Xiaoyuan was quick and efficient. She was born for this job, fully immersed, not tired or sleepy, and found plenty of joy in her work.
The lead teacher waited aside, casually flipping through a flyer Jiang Xiaoyuan had left, and suddenly said, “She’s the lead dancer. Can you do the peach blossom makeup you mentioned on her?”
Jiang Xiaoyuan glanced at the dancer’s costume peeking out from under her coat, agreed without hesitation, and quickly applied the colorful floral makeup on the girl’s forehead and around her eyes. It seemed as if she had perfected it through countless trials, making the previously sleepy girl look refreshed.
“Older sister, you’re much better than the makeup artist we hired last time.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan blurted out, “You’re beautiful.”
In the mirror, the reflection was very fitting. If Jiang Xiaoyuan had looked up at the mirror, she would have seen not the sleepy little actress but herself.
In the mirror, Jiang Xiaoyuan, brushing her newly curled hair, said to the nearby hairstylist, “Your skills are really good. I’ll come to you next time.”
The hairstylist, smiling widely, said, “Mainly because you’re beautiful.”
Ming Guang, whether it was nearing the end or something else, became increasingly intrusive, bothering her more frequently. Every morning, as Jiang Xiaoyuan washed her face and looked in the mirror, it wouldn’t leave her in peace. So, she had no choice but to skillfully ignore the images while hastily finding a corner of the mirror to take a quick glance.
This big order played a crucial role in turning things around, with the increased revenue being more significant than nearly two months of effort.
Finally, time, indifferent and relentless, flowed to the end of the promotional period. Early in the morning, Chen Fangzhou pulled the finance team to count all the styling business orders.
There were both large and small orders — just short.
Only a little short.
Chen Fangzhou glanced at Jiang Xiaoyuan, seeing her pale and nervous face, and suddenly felt inexplicably soft inside.
Some people, despite being unable to take any more risks themselves, are moved when they see others working day and night. Thus, this notoriously stingy person seemed to have taken the wrong medicine and pulled out a hundred yuan from his pocket, putting it into the cash register: “I went on a blind date last week, and the styling you did for me wasn’t on the bill at the time. Now I’m paying for it.”
The finance person quickly accepted the money and adjusted the invoice. After a final verification, they couldn’t help but speak up, “Store manager, this isn’t right. The stage makeup was given a discount based on the student group purchase price. If we calculate by revenue instead of order quantity, it might still be insufficient.”
Jiang Xiaoyuan: “…”
This was the student group discount she had printed on the flyers without authorization to promote stage makeup. She really wished she could chop off her own hand for it now.
Chen Fangzhou: “How much more is needed?”
The finance person said, “One hundred sixty-three yuan and fifty cents.”
Chen Fangzhou: “Which styling service is over one hundred sixty?”
Finance: “Regular makeup during the event is one hundred, stage makeup is one hundred eighty, and custom makeup is two hundred sixty.”
Without saying another word, Chen Fangzhou pulled out his phone and dialed a number: “Come over today and get a makeup done.”
Qi Lian was busy with a manuscript and was interrupted by Chen Fangzhou’s call. Hearing this unreasonable request, he said in a bad mood, “Are you crazy?”
After hanging up, he continued to write furiously.
But after a while, Qi Lian paused, as if coming to his senses. He thought for a moment, closed his notebook with a snap, stood up, and left.
Half an hour later, Qi Lian arrived at Chen Fangzhou’s hair salon.
“Here, here! He’s here to get stage makeup done today.” Chen Fangzhou pointed at Qi Lian and said to the finance person, “Open a bill and let him settle it later.”
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