“Sorry for taking up your time. You won’t charge me overtime fees, will you? I really have no money left—even my car was sold,” Wu Mangmang said while pulling two tissues from the box Wu Yong handed her to wipe her tears. Even at this moment, she couldn’t help being picky. “Dr. Wu, you’re in the high-income bracket anyway. Next time, could you not buy this kind of promotional tissue? At least buy a box of Heart-to-Heart brand—it’s not that expensive.”
Wu Yong withdrew his kindness.
“Hey, wait, wait, I still need to use them,” Wu Mangmang said, covering her nose with the tissue and blowing. Only then did her nasal cavity feel comfortable. “Can I use your restroom, Dr. Wu?”
Wu Yong nodded helplessly.
Half an hour later, Wu Yong had to knock on the bathroom door. “Mangmang, are you done?”
No one answered from inside. Wu Yong anxiously knocked twice more. “Mangmang, Mangmang!”
“Stop making noise—you made me draw my eyeliner crooked,” Wu Mangmang’s soprano voice shot out from the bathroom.
Wu Yong wiped his sweat. He had actually worried that Wu Mangmang might be having suicidal thoughts.
“The door isn’t locked. Come in yourself,” Wu Mangmang’s voice returned to its usual sweet tone.
Wu Yong opened the door and entered. Wu Mangmang was applying mascara. “Just a moment more.”
After the mascara dried, Wu Mangmang walked out of the bathroom, put on sunglasses, and looked at the lighting in Wu Yong’s office. It was perfect for taking photos right now, and the view from Wu Yong’s office was quite nice. She decisively handed her phone to Wu Yong. “Dr. Wu, take a few photos of me.”
Wu Mangmang quickly walked to Wu Yong’s desk and struck a long-leg pose, pulling up her white T-shirt to tie a knot above her navel, exposing her smooth, flat, beautiful stomach. She supported herself with one hand on her deliberately raised buttocks to accentuate her chest line and hip curves.
“Dr. Wu, my shoes need to reach the bottom of the photo—that way I’ll look taller.” Although Wu Mangmang’s 167cm wasn’t short, compared to 170cm women, it was far off, and legs could never be too long.
Wu Yong shook his head helplessly. Although Wu Mangmang was his patient, he still wasn’t used to her jumpy thinking.
“Wait, wait.” Wu Mangmang ran to Wu Yong’s side. “Almost forgot to use the beauty filter. I knew you wouldn’t proactively help me turn on the beauty camera.” While adjusting the software, Wu Mangmang said, “Although I’m already naturally beautiful and don’t need whitening, eye brightening, or height proportion adjustments, I seem to have dark circles recently.”
After Wu Mangmang set up the software, she made an OK gesture to Wu Yong, walked back to his desk, lifted one foot to hook backward, pouted her lips, pointed her right index finger at her cheek, and made a very fake-cute expression.
Wu Yong felt a chill. He could never understand why women were always so enthusiastic about selfies.
“Those enthusiastic about selfies are all beauties, and I’m doing this to beautify the internet environment,” Wu Mangmang replied to Wu Yong. She took back her phone, quite satisfied with the photo results, and while opening Weibo to post, said to Wu Yong, “Dr. Wu, have you followed my Weibo? I’m just 98,000 followers away from joining the million-follower army.”
Wu Mangmang raised her phone and smiled. “I gained twenty-three followers today. Although they’re haters who came to curse me, this lady doesn’t care.”
Wu Mangmang chatted casually with Wu Yong: “Dr. Wu, do you know Long Xiujuan? She changed her name to Little Dragon Girl. Last month when her followers reached one million, she hosted over ten tables at Shangjin to celebrate. As if afraid people wouldn’t know she’s nouveau riche—just hearing her old name, you’d know her parents only had elementary education.” Wu Mangmang clicked her tongue twice. “If I reach one million followers, I won’t be as tasteless as her. I’ll invite everyone to Starlight for fun.”
“Starlight, you know it?” Wu Mangmang asked, tilting her head slightly.
Wu Yong shook his head. He knew Shangjin though—a place where one table cost no less than 5,000 yuan without drinks, just to celebrate reaching one million followers?
“Starlight is members-only—they don’t receive non-members. Just maintaining membership costs 500,000 yuan annually,” Wu Mangmang said. “My dad is a member. I can borrow his card when the time comes.”
Wu Yong sighed. “Mangmang, you don’t need to portray yourself this way. You’re not such a vain, ostentatious girl.”
Wu Mangmang clicked the button, and the Weibo posted. “Dr. Wu, you’re wrong. This is my true nature.”
Wu Yong’s phone chimed with a notification. Wu Mangmang leaned over to look. “Dr. Wu, so you’ve been following me all along. Let’s follow each other—what’s your Weibo handle?”
“You should leave now. You’ve already delayed me for an hour,” Wu Yong said, quickly putting away his phone and seeing Wu Mangmang out. Only then did he open her Weibo to look. It was the photo he had just taken of Wu Mangmang, already lightly edited.
Sunlight, floor-to-ceiling windows, and a young, beautiful woman with an explosively gorgeous figure. The caption read: “Isn’t the sunlight in the office really nice?”
A misleading sentence.
Sure enough, a bunch of people replied: “Wow, changed jobs? The office is decorated so intellectually, with such taste.”
“Truly a rich beauty—the office is on such a high floor, must be a private office, right? A goddess with high education, high IQ, and high beauty.”
Of course, some people asked with ill intent: “Your belly is so flat—did you get an abortion?”
Soon Wu Mangmang posted another Weibo with several other photos from before: “From now on, we’ll part amicably and each find our own happiness. We’re all doing well, okay? Tomorrow is another brand new day.”
Wu Yong rubbed his temples. Even on Weibo, she had to perform.
Speaking of Wu Mangmang, after leaving Wu Yong’s office, since she no longer had a car for transportation, she had no choice but to take the people-friendly subway. She looked down at the newly-applied transit card in her hand and sighed. Fortunately, the photos she posted on Weibo always showed her wearing sunglasses—otherwise, if people discovered that this rich beauty actually took the subway, she’d definitely face all kinds of mockery.
In a short while, there were already hundreds of replies to her Weibo. Wu Mangmang sighed with satisfaction. She then went to check her friends’ Weibos and saw that Long Xiujuan had updated just three minutes ago. The content wasn’t anything new—she was smiling so stiffly in the photo, obviously just to show off her newly surgically created “dimples.”
Wu Mangmang was about to close it after a glance, but her peripheral vision caught the last line: “3 minutes ago, from iPhone 6s.” Wu Mangmang’s eyes dimmed. She checked other friends’ Weibos—they were all posted from 6s devices.
Such show-offs.
The 6s had only gone on sale yesterday, and there were long queues at Apple stores. Unfortunately, Wu Mangmang was strapped for cash—otherwise, she would definitely have posted a Weibo from a 6s immediately too.
Looking at her own Weibo posted from iPhone 6, her friends’ replies were uniformly just two characters: “Hehe.” Wu Mangmang felt only one thing—”slapped in the face.”
Her WeChat Moments also had a notification. It was from Wu Mangmang’s “best friend” Lu Qingqing, saying she had recently tried a Japanese eyelash growth serum and her lashes had grown 2mm longer in a month. Lu Qingqing even posted real photos—her eyelashes did seem longer than before.
Wu Mangmang removed her sunglasses, took out a small mirror to look at her own eyelashes. They were a bit deformed from being pressed by the sunglasses, but they could indeed grow a bit longer. Her fingers moved nimbly on her phone, typing: “How much? Where to buy?”
But as soon as she typed it, she felt it was too low-class—actually asking about price. Wu Mangmang deleted what she had typed, sighed, silently put her phone in her pocket, then silently stomped hard with her foot. She heard the “creepy man” behind her scream and hop around holding his foot.
Wu Mangmang snorted coldly. Now you know why this lady likes wearing high heels? Small contact area means high pressure.
“Stinking bitch!” The creepy man charged at Wu Mangmang, raising his hand to hit her.
Wu Mangmang raised her hand to block the creepy man’s hand, then twisted it behind his back with a counter-move, stepping on his back. Her movements were very swift. “CID, you have the right to remain silent, but everything you say will be used as evidence in court.” Years ago, to “perform action scenes well,” Wu Mangmang had attended martial arts school.
But after blurting this out, Wu Mangmang realized this was mainland China, where CID didn’t apply. She blamed herself for being so bored recently that she’d been watching old TVB shows.
“You’re crazy!” the creepy man cursed.
Wu Mangmang was momentarily distracted. The subway happened to reach the station. She released the creepy man and ran out of the subway like a little rabbit. After getting away from the crowd, she leaned against a nearby railing with one hand while holding her waist with the other, panting continuously.
Wu Mangmang’s mind flashed with the surprised looks of those subway passengers. She turned around uncomfortably to lean against the railing, and somehow her face was already covered with tear tracks. She belatedly wiped them with the back of her hand, annoyed that her makeup was definitely ruined again. Taking out a small mirror to look, she had indeed become a smoky eye look. Fortunately, her bare face wasn’t unseeable—she simply took out wet wipes and removed it all.
While Wu Mangmang was frantically busy, her phone suddenly rang with earth-shaking volume. This was a demo she had recorded herself in a KTV recording studio: “I am Zhenai.com, I am Baihe.com, I am Jiayuan.com, I am If You Are the One…”
Wu Mangmang answered the phone impatiently. “Mommy, what’s the matter?”
“This isn’t a Hong Kong or Taiwan drama—why are you calling me Mommy?” Mrs. Wu, Madam Liu Lewei, scolded. “Are you coming home for dinner tonight?”
“No money for a taxi.” Wu Mangmang replied. Her family was nouveau riche anyway—the villa was bought halfway up a mountain where neither buses nor subways reached. Walking from the foot to the top of the mountain took forty minutes, or at least an hour and a half in high heels.
“Then use Uber. Tell me how much you spend and I’ll transfer it to your Alipay,” Madam Liu said.
“Mom, are you afraid people won’t know you’ve learned to use smartphone apps?” Wu Mangmang pouted.
“Your little brother misses you. Are you coming back or not?”
“Not coming back.” Wu Mangmang decisively hung up. Why should she go back just because her little brother missed her?
When she was little and missed her parents so much, didn’t they ignore her too?
Oh, now that their relationship was good and they had a baby boy at forty like an old clam producing a pearl, he became the treasure?
Personally picking him up and dropping him off at kindergarten every day?
Personally bathing him every day?
Even telling him bedtime stories every night?
Wu Mangmang felt it was really “hehe.”
Not going back, absolutely not going back.
“I am ATM, I am Alipay, I am Tenpay, I am Doraemon…”
Demonic noise pollution.
Wu Mangmang answered the phone weakly. “Dad.”
This made Wu Song shiver. He quickly shook his head, feeling he had found the wrong psychologist for Wu Mangmang. Wu Yong, Wu Yong—the name sounded useless.
“Mangmang, why won’t you come home for dinner? Your little brother misses you every day.”
“Dad—” Wu Mangmang’s tears flowed immediately. “You and Mom are just favoring boys over girls, only liking the one with a handle who can continue the Wu family lineage, right? Is your daughter made of grass? Having to get up at 3 AM to grind tofu, then going to the streets to hawk during the day, and now you’ve even confiscated my tofu-selling cart…”
“Beep beep beep…” The other end had already hung up.
Wu Mangmang put away her phone. Finally, it was quiet. Who said performing had no benefits? Today’s performance as the Tofu Beauty was quite good.