Yu Feng hadn’t replied to the messages because he happened to be on a phone call, which lasted quite a while.
After hanging up, a notification popped up from the mini-program backend: 【Dear customer, your ordered service session has expired. As of 21:37 on April 2nd, our staff will no longer respond to any messages. We appreciate your understanding. You may place a new order through the [Limited-Time Boyfriend] mini-program to purchase additional services. Thank you for your patronage.】
The time was up, and Yu Feng didn’t feel like chatting anymore. He didn’t reply to the other party and set his phone aside, continuing to drink. Zhou Yi glanced at the phone on the bar and asked, “What’s wrong? Not chatting anymore?”
Yu Feng said, “Time’s up.”
“That fast?” Zhou Yi scoffed. “You paid 28 yuuan for nothing—didn’t even get to hear a voice. Want to place another order?”
Yu Feng had just acted on impulse earlier, but now the mood was gone. He shook his head. “No need to be a sucker[mfn]T/N: YF actually said 韭菜 (jiǔ cài), means garlic chive; Chinese chive; Chinese leek (Allium tuberosum); (Mainland China, neologism, figurative, Internet slang) someone who can be repeatedly deceived and exploited, especially by the stock market or the government; dupe; shitizen; (fig.) retail investors who lose their money to more experienced operators (i.e. they are “harvested” like garlic chives). The neologism sense comes from the fact that garlic chives are able to regrow after their part above the ground is cut off.[/mfn] twice.”
***
Xie An’yu went to bed early and only saw the customer’s reply along with the platform’s payment notification when he woke up the next morning—22.4 yuan, after the platform’s service fee deduction. This was the first money he had earned since coming to Beicheng. Back home, he had always been paid in cash, so this was the first time he saw his earnings displayed as a digital figure—it felt a bit unreal.
Even though he had made money, he wasn’t happy about it. He felt guilty for earning it this way.
The sudden disappearance of the other person also left him feeling a bit frustrated.
Wu Jie woke up early too, around the same time as Xie An’yu. Today, she didn’t mention going for a run with him, and her attitude was noticeably colder.
Xie An’yu asked her what she wanted for breakfast, saying, “I’ll bring something back after my run.”
Wu Jie gathered her hair into a ponytail with an elastic band and walked straight to the bathroom. “No need. Keep what little money you have for yourself. There’s no need to spend it on our family.”
Xie An’yu stood rooted to the spot, momentarily stunned. He didn’t quite understand the meaning behind Wu Jie’s words, nor did he want to overanalyze them. He disliked dissecting every situation too much; sometimes, being a little oblivious made life easier. He also disliked arguing with people and understood how to read the atmosphere; he was a considerate person.
Xie An’yu hummed, “Then I’ll head out first.”
With the sound of the door closing, the living room fell silent. Wu Jie stood in front of the mirror and let out an irritated sigh.
***
Today, Xie An’yu brought his phone and his ID card, planning to report to the small restaurant he had applied to yesterday after his run.
His steps felt lighter than usual today, and he ran faster and faster, not feeling tired at all.
His phone kept vibrating during the run. Xie An’yu pulled it out and saw that Ding Xiaofei was calling him via WeChat. Remembering Wu Meng’s warning that using mobile data outdoors cost money, he declined the call and sent Ding Xiaofei a text from his old flip phone instead.
Xie An’yu: 【I’m outside, no Wi-Fi. Using data costs money. What’s up? Need something?】
Ding Xiaofei: 【Texting costs money too, you know. Whatever, we’ll talk when you get home. Look at you, all modern—now you even know what mobile data is.】
Xie An’yu: 【Is that a compliment or an insult?】
Ding Xiaofei: 【Obviously a compliment! When have I ever insulted you, you ungrateful brat?】
Xie An’yu smiled and tucked the old phone back into his pocket, continuing toward the restaurant along the route he had memorized yesterday. He arrived too early—the boss wasn’t there yet. The only person he saw inside was the same young man from yesterday.
Xie An’yu didn’t speak this time and simply waved at him.
The young man smiled, pointed to his ears, and then waved his hand to indicate he couldn’t hear.
Xie An’yu nodded, took out his old-fashioned phone, opened the memo app, typed a few words, and held it up for him to see.
【I’m here to work as a kitchen helper. Nice to meet you】
The other person grinned, his eyes curving into crescents, and he nodded. He gestured to the dining table in front of him, inviting Xie An’yu to sit, then he poured him a cup of water in a disposable paper cup.
Xie An’yu reflexively said, “Thank you,” before realizing the other couldn’t hear him. So, he quickly pulled out his old phone again, typed out ‘Thank you’ and showed it to him. The good thing about this old phone was that the text was large and easy to read at a glance.
Xie An’yu noticed that the other person smiled a lot, his eyes curving into crescents when he did. He probably wasn’t just deaf—he likely couldn’t speak either. He sat down across from Xie An’yu, took out his own phone, typed something, and held it up to Xie An’yu.
【The boss isn’t here yet. You’ll have to wait a bit. My name is Yue Lai. What’s yours?】
Xie An’yu typed and raised his phone: [Xie An’yu]
And so, the two of them exchanged messages back and forth, communicating face-to-face through their phones. Xie An’yu wasn’t good at socializing, especially with people he didn’t know well—it made him uncomfortable. But this method of communication actually put him at ease.
【Your phone is good. The letters are big; it’s very clear to read】
Xie An’yu chuckled softly.
【I think it’s pretty good too】
【I need to go to the kitchen to prep vegetables. You can sit here and wait. The boss usually arrives by nine—you’re here too early】
【It’s fine. I’ll just wait for him here】
The young man named Yue Lai headed to the kitchen. As he stood up, Xie An’yu noticed a scar near his ear, as if from an old injury. Xie An’yu turned his head and spotted the Wi-Fi password posted on the wall. He took out his second-hand Android phone and tried connecting—it worked.
He replied to Ding Xiaofei’s message: 【Got internet now. What did you want to tell me earlier?】
Ding Xiaofei, slacking off during his morning class, replied with his hands hidden under the desk: 【Do you still remember Guo Tianyang?】
Xie An’yu: 【Yeah, I do】
Ding Xiaofei: 【Did you know he’s studying in Beicheng?】
Xie An’yu truly didn’t know this. He had dropped out of high school after less than two weeks of his third year. Even before that, he hadn’t had many friends in class when he was in school, and after dropping out, he lost contact with almost all his classmates. The only one he stayed close to was Ding Xiaofei, and that was only because Ding Xiaofei made an effort to visit him every now and then, maintaining their solid friendship.
Xie An’yu had always been a man of few words, and after his parents passed away, he spoke even less. Because he didn’t like interacting with people, some of his male classmates even accused him of being aloof or putting on airs. Xie An’yu had nothing to say in response—he distanced himself from others, so naturally, others distanced themselves from him. How others evaluated him wouldn’t affect him.
He didn’t live for other people.
Guo Tianyang had also been Xie An’yu’s high school classmate. Xie An’yu’s strongest impression of him was that he had excellent grades and was a confident, radiant, and naturally charismatic person. Guo Tianyang had been their class monitor, with both parents working as teachers at Shuangye Isle High School. He came from a good family, had a strong moral character, and was well-liked among his peers—a true leader in the class.
This kind of person was genuinely warm and enthusiastic towards everyone. Xie An’yu had only two friends in class—him and Ding Xiaofei. Later, when Xie An’yu dropped out of school and didn’t have a smartphone, he and Guo Tianyang weren’t like Ding Xiaofei, who lived nearby and could meet often. Over time, they gradually lost touch.
Xie An’yu remembered Ding Xiaofei mentioning that Guo Tianyang was the only one in their grade who got into a school outside the island. He never expected him not only to leave the island but also to get into a university in Beicheng.
Xie An’yu: 【He’s in Beicheng?】
Ding Xiaofei: 【Yeah, I almost forgot. I only remembered yesterday. I told him you’re going to Beicheng too, and today he asked me for your WeChat ID. Should I give it to him?】
Xie An’yu: 【Go ahead, since he asked.】
Ding Xiaofei: 【Heh, I had to check if you were okay with it. I’ve got class now.】
Xie An’yu: 【[Goodbye[mfn]再見 (zài jiàn)
[/mfn]]】
Ding Xiaofei: 【Don’t use that shady emoji. I just praised you for being trendy, and you revert in a second.】
Xie An’yu: 【Doesn’t this emoji mean goodbye?】
Ding Xiaofei: 【[Picking nose[mfn]摳鼻 (kōu bí)
[/mfn]] Take a closer look—isn’t that emoji begging for a beating?】
Xie An’yu glanced at it and realized it did. He chuckled and replied: 【Just focus on your class.】
Xie An’yu waited for another half an hour before the boss arrived at the restaurant.
“Oh, you’re here early. What time did you get here?” the boss asked him.
“Eight o’clock.”
“Just strolling over again?” The boss stuffed his bag into the cabinet under the cash register, locked it, and smiled faintly. He was always smiling—he’d been grinning when he walked in. But his smile was different from Yue Lai’s. Yue Lai’s eyes were very pure, while this man’s smile hid depths, maybe because of his age. Yue Lai looked very young.
“Do you live far? How did you get here?”
“I walked.”
The boss laughed: “So you really did stroll over, huh? Where do you live?”
Xie An’yu kept his guard up, not wanting to reveal his aunt’s address, so he said, “Just nearby.”
“Did you bring your ID card?”
“Mm.” Xie An’yu took his ID out of his pocket and handed it over.
The boss glanced at it and nodded slowly. “You really are 18. Tall for your age. Xie An’yu…”
After confirming the ID information, he returned the card and said, “The chef will be here this afternoon. We officially open tomorrow. During the probationary period, we won’t sign a contract—one month, salary 2,800[mfn]T/N: Around 390 USD[/mfn]. If you perform well after the probationary period, we’ll sign a contract. Full-time salary is 3,600[mfn]T/N: Around 500 USD[/mfn], two days off a month. Work starts at 9 in the morning, break at 2:30 in the afternoon, back at 4, and finish at 9 in the evening. Is that acceptable?”
Xie An’yu nodded.
The boss pulled out a cigarette, lit it, and speak around it, “The shop’s small, just opening. The pay isn’t great, but we’ll adjust it if business picks up. Don’t worry about that.”
Xie An’yu was new to Beicheng and hadn’t worked any other jobs here. He had no concept of how low this salary was, but compared to similar jobs on Shuangye Isle, this salary was actually higher. Besides, he currently had no better options.
“You’re not from Beicheng,” the boss exhaled a cloud of smoke. “Working at such a young age, are your parents here too?”
“My parents passed away. I’m staying with relatives.”
“I see…”
Yue Lai walked out from the kitchen. The boss waved him over and said to Xie An’yu, “This is Yue Lai, our little waiter. He can’t hear or speak.”
He was half a head taller than Yue Lai and had a more robust build, standing tall and imposing next to Yue Lai. He placed his hand on Yue Lai’s shoulder and gave it a light squeeze, then pointed at Xie An’yu and gestured toward the kitchen.
Yue Lai looked at Xie An’yu and no, though he didn’t seem as relaxed as before.
The boss turned to Xie An’yu and said, “He’s 22, older than you, so you should call him ‘brother’. But even if you do, he won’t hear you.”
Xie An’yu didn’t like the sound of that and didn’t respond.
***
Xie An’yu only got busy when the chef arrived in the afternoon. Even though the shop wouldn’t officially open until the next day, the boss kept everyone until nine at night. Xie An’yu called his aunt to let her know he’d found a job and wouldn’t be back until evening, so he wouldn’t be home for dinner.
Before leaving, Xie An’yu mustered the courage to ask the boss, “Brother Lu, does the shop provide accommodation? I noticed there’s an empty room upstairs.”
Lu Yang smirked around the cigarette in his mouth. “Don’t you live nearby?”
“I’m just staying there temporarily.”
Lu Yang stated bluntly: “That rooms aren’t suitable for living in.”
Xie An’yu gave up: “Mm, I understand.”
Shortly after the boss went inside, Yue Lai walked out with a backpack slung over his shoulder. He tapped Xie An’yu, who was standing at the door lost in thought. Xie An’yu turned around and forced a small smile.
Yue Lai took out his phone and typed: 【How are you getting back?】
Xie An’yu also pulled out his phone and typed: 【Walking】
【Is your place close by?】
【Not really】
【Ah? Won’t it be a hassle to walk back then?】
【It’s fine】
【Want me to give you a ride? I have an electric scooter】
【No need, I like walking】
【Alright, then be careful on your way】
Xie An’yu suddenly remembered something and typed another message.
【Isn’t it dangerous for you to ride an electric scooter?】
It must be risky for someone who couldn’t hear to drive, right? Judging road conditions without hearing sound must be difficult.
【Don’t worry, my home is close. I could drive back with my eyes closed】
【You sure?】
【Positive. I grew up here—I know these streets like the back of my hand】
Xie An’yu felt reassured.
【Alright, then stay safe. See you tomorrow】
Yue Lai smiled and waved at him.
Beicheng seemed even more bustling at night. The roads were still busy with vehicles, the residential complex was brightly lit, and shops along the street were still open, with even more people than during the day.
Xie An’yu looked up at the night sky.
Although Beicheng didn’t have as many stars as Shuangye Isle, he still quite liked this city.
Earlier, the boss had remarked that he was quiet, joking that he’d hired two mutes. Back when his grandmother was alive, she’d sometimes say he was too silent too.
Actually, there’s nothing wrong with silence. Silence is the beginning of adapting to solitude, and adapting to solitude is the beginning of pursuing oneself.
Like now—in moments like these, it makes one feel that even solitude is joyful.
His phone buzzed. Xie An’yu instinctively reached for his old flip phone before remembering its text alert wasn’t this gentle. He pulled out the smartphone from his other pocket. As soon as he opened WeChat, a notification from the [Limited-Time Boyfriend] mini-program popped up.
【Congratulations! You’ve been featured for ‘New Staff Recommendations’. Please visit the [Limited-Time Boyfriend] official WeChat account homepage for details.】
***
Yu Feng had just finished showering when he stepped out of the bathroom and heard his phone vibrate. It was placed on the marble coffee table, so the vibration was particularly loud. He walked over and picked it up. There were several WeChat notifications, with Zhou Yi’s message at the very top.
Zhou Yi: 【Default system avatar】
Zhou Yi: 【[Thumbs up[mfn]大拇指 (dà mu zhǐ)
[/mfn]]】
Yu Feng: 【?】
Zhou Yi: 【That default system avatar, don’t you remember?】
Yu Feng: 【What about it?】
Zhou Yi: 【Go check the mini-program’s official account, the latest push notification】
Yu Feng scrolled down his list. Using the [Limited-Time Boyfriend] mini-program automatically followed its official account. Yu Feng also received the official account’s latest push notification—
He clicked it open and saw that the first one featured was indeed that default system avatar. The avatar was default, but the photo next to it was not. It was a close-up shot of a glance over the shoulder, taken against a supermarket shelf backdrop. High-definition, unedited, natural tones—clearly no filter applied whatsoever.
Yu Feng stared at it for a few seconds before scrolling down. There were other staff recommendations, all with photos attached—mostly heavily beautified selfies. Even the candid shots were layered with skin-smoothing filters, full of ‘ambiance’.
Even if the other photos were trying their best to outshine each other, this particular push notification still placed the default system avatar in the top position, indicating that the editor still had a discerning eye.
Zhou Yi: 【Seen it?】
Yu Feng: 【Yeah】
Zhou Yi: 【It just hit me—I don’t think I’ve ever been featured in this recommendation?】
Yu Feng: 【Probably didn’t meet the looks threshold】
Zhou Yi: 【Don’t lie against your conscience】
Yu Feng: 【Aren’t you worried your students might stumble across your photo on a platform like this someday?】
Zhou Yi: 【Let them. I’m this handsome and dashing—no shame in being seen】
Yu Feng: 【No face】
Zhou Yi: 【Oh, now you’re showing off with foreign words】
Zhou Yi: 【Anyway, did you see the photo of that default system avatar?】
Yu Feng: 【Yeah】
Zhou Yi: 【Pretty [thumbs up] this one, right?】
Yu Feng: 【Mm, pretty handsome】
The author has something to say:
《No need to be a sucker twice》
So… all this time, I’ve always thought XAY deaf-mute co-worker’s name, 樂來, was read as Le Lai. I’ve read ahead and found out it’s actually Yue Lai; the 樂 (yuè) from music, not the 樂 (lè) from happy. 😬😬 I’ve replace all the wrong spelling that I could catch, but if you find any error left, please notify me. Thank you in advance!
[dropdown title=”List of Idiom in Chapter 06″]
心血來潮 (xīn xuè lái cháo): be seized by a whim; to be prompted by a sudden impulse; carried away by a whim; to do something on a whim; have a passing fancy/whim/brainwave; Refers to a sudden or accidental thought in his mind.一目瞭然 (yī mù liǎo rán): clear at first glance; obvious at a glance (idiom); selfevident; apparent; evident; plain to see; used to describe things or events that are very clear and you can tell what is going on at a glance.
隔三差五 (gé sān chà wǔ): every now and then; every so often; every once in a while; every few days (idiom); frequently; at intervals; from time to time; now and then; something that happens very often.
初來乍到 (chū lái zhà dào): to be a newcomer; just off the boat; newly arrived; just arrived; fresh off the boat; new to a place; unfamiliar with the surroundings; often used in the humble context of expressing the first arrival in an unfamiliar environment.
人高馬大 (rén gāo mǎ dà): lit. the person is as tall as a horse is large; (of a person) tall and big; tall and strong.
直截了當 (zhí jié liǎo dàng): direct and plainspoken (idiom); blunt; straightforward; speaking or doing something straightforwardly and without beating around the bush.
爭奇鬥豔 (zhēng qí dòu yàn): to contend in beauty and fascination; compete with each other for beauty of looks; compete in beauty; vie for splendor; strive to outshine each other; compete for attention; display dazzling beauty.
[/dropdown]Check out my completed & current project at my carrd. If you like my translation, you can buy me coffee at Ko-fi~ Thank you.
