The characteristic of General Manager Wang’s company was that it was very much like playing house.

Six vice presidents, four of them related by blood or marriage. Finance was his sister-in-law, logistics was his second uncle.

Often everyone would be in a meeting, and suddenly when the mood struck they’d start playing cards. Or when they got pumped up they’d work through the night.

In this environment, I thrived like a fish in water.

I was responsible for budgets, reviewing blueprints, handling complaints… and also had to help him cover for his mistress. The mistress was my assistant. The boss’s wife trusted me, and by extension trusted the mistress.

The salary was just over ten thousand, but in my hometown’s small city it was not only enough, I was considered a high earner.

Days passed like flowing water, except I started being unable to sleep night after night.

I saw a doctor. He prescribed me some kind of calming medication. I looked it up and found it mainly suppressed overly active thinking.

I didn’t take it. Subconsciously, I didn’t want to numb myself.

When I was dating Cheng Xia, I also couldn’t sleep, but that was because I was too excited—my heartbeat had an extra beat compared to usual.

He would lean against the headboard and read me some simple stories. His voice was very pleasant. Slowly, I would fall asleep.

Of all those stories, I only remember one. It was about a male protagonist who was a small shepherd boy who had to go find his treasure but also couldn’t let go of the girl he liked.

An old man told him something to the effect of: if you ignore your destiny and stay here, you’ll do very well, but the longer you stay in this place, the more your destiny will disappear, until you can’t remember it anymore.

I still remember under the dim warm light, he leaned against the camel-colored pillow and read to me: “When people are very young, they know what their reason for living is. Perhaps that’s why people give it up so quickly.”

I would get drowsy listening to anything literary. I don’t know why I had such a deep impression of this story.

Originally, I wanted a respectable and clean life. I wanted to be like Cheng Xia.

But at the moment closest to him, I only felt emptiness.

Now, I don’t know what I want.

Yet I clearly feel something urging me on—this is the source of my anxiety.

Unwilling to accept this, yet what else can I do?

My mental state began to obviously deteriorate. Drowsy during the day, alert at night.

But Grandma was in good spirits and could already go out wandering the streets by herself.

Her favorite place to wander was the matchmaking corner. Every day she’d bring a stack of photos like playing cards to show me.

“Look at this young man, how handsome!”

“This one’s too handsome! Hey! Just like Zhao Benshan when he was young!”

Grandma smacked me: “Stop your nonsense!”

Then she pulled out another one: “Look at this one, a civil servant, the young man’s spirited.”

“That little face—in another two years I can throw him a sixtieth birthday party.”

Grandma threw down the photo, genuinely angry, and cursed: “You little bastard—”

I quickly placated her: “Just teasing you! I’m all disheveled all the time, who would even look at me!”

“Nonsense! My granddaughter is sensible and capable.” She said: “Any man would need eight generations of good karma to marry you.”

She lowered her head picking and choosing, muttering as she went: “How many more days can I accompany you… If you don’t have family, who will care for you in the future…”

I couldn’t tell her that when I was sixteen, I used up a lifetime’s worth of affection.

I also couldn’t tell her I would never fall in love with anyone again, so I didn’t want to share my money with any man.

I could only say: “Okay, I’ll go.”

I went on no fewer than fifty blind dates.

Gradually figured out the trick.

The thing about blind dates is, you must go to a restaurant that’s already pretty good, or go to a place you really want to go.

Just treat it like finding a playmate to go together. That way, the day isn’t wasted.

It was a winter evening.

The other party suggested meeting at a Western restaurant that also sold mala hotpot and Italian pasta.

I rushed over after work, too lazy to dress up, wearing a black down jacket, my hair unwashed for three days—oily enough to stir-fry vegetables with.

“You’re Mr. Zhou Ting, right?”

“Right.”

The other party had obviously groomed himself, styled his hair, wore a blue athletic jacket, had a round face with regular features, and looked quite cute when he smiled.

“Sorry! I got off work late. Tell you what, this meal is on me.” I picked up the menu and said: “What do you want to eat?”

He panicked, desperately pushing the menu away: “I’ll pay! I’ll pay! How can I let a girl pay?”

I looked at him. His face flushed bright red, but he kept staring at me.

Staring at me until I got the creeps. Is this guy a pervert?

“Uh, what do you like to eat?”

“Mala hotpot is fine,” he said.

I looked up at him, then suddenly said: “Are you… Where did you go to high school?”

He smiled with relief: “You finally recognized me.”

I looked at him intently for a while, then slapped my thigh: “Right! I thought you looked familiar. It’s you! What was your name again—”

“Zhou Ting.”

He also smiled, his eyes bright.

“Right, right, right. Wow, I thought it was just the same name.”

He was actually my classmate from vocational high school, but back then I was busy all day reading novels and chasing after Cheng Xia—I’d long forgotten about him.

In my memory he didn’t look like this either. He wore little round glasses, was chubby, didn’t say a word all day, and played games under his desk every day.

“I didn’t expect it was really you.” He said with a smile: “You, Ren Dongxue, actually came on a blind date.”

“Why can’t I go on blind dates?” I also smiled.

“It’s just, so many people in our class liked you. I thought your kids would be grown up by now.”

I waved my hand and said: “Working on construction sites until I grew a beard, I forgot I had this glorious history.”

The blind date quickly turned into old classmates catching up.

I learned that those little sisters who used to read “That Boy is Really Handsome” together—some were selling insurance, some doing MLM, and one had become an administrative teacher at our vocational high school.

Those boys with faces full of acne had mostly become fathers.

We finished a large pot of mala hotpot, ordered two coffees, then ate a large cup of ice cream.

Once he opened up, he was exactly the type of Northeast boy I was most familiar with—straightforward, absolutely keeping the conversation going.

He was the type of Northeast boy I was most familiar with. Though a bit shy, he was honest, straightforward, and I found myself smiling with squinted eyes as I listened.

And he never let the conversation drop. I didn’t have many friends here, and it had been a long time since I’d chatted so freely.

After the restaurant closed, we were still not finished talking, so we simply walked home together.

He said: “Why did you go work at construction sites? For girls, wouldn’t clerical work be better?”

“I liked it! Some people like brush, ink, paper, and inkstone. I just happen to like steel and concrete.” I made up nonsense casually.

He lowered his head and laughed quietly again.

“What about you?”

“I don’t really like anything in particular. My parents run a restaurant. After I graduated I helped them manage it. Now I can make a few hundred thousand a year.”

“That’s good for you.” I sighed genuinely.

I had always thought I was doing well among my classmates, but still couldn’t compare to these natural winners.

“It’s nothing, it’s all my parents… I’ve never even left our small city.” He felt embarrassed again: “Someone like you is great, always out there making your way in the world.”

“Then why are you only looking for a partner now?” I said.

The more we chatted, the more any romantic atmosphere between man and woman completely dissipated. I suddenly seemed exactly like a caring older sister.

In small cities like ours, generally the better your conditions, the earlier you marry.

He scratched his head and said: “When I entered the restaurant, I caused a big disaster and blew up the back kitchen. Fortunately no one died, but my dad compensated a lot of money. I focused single-mindedly on making money for him, and broke up with my girlfriend too. Been single until now.”

“Ah, earn money first, start a family later. That’s good.”

“What about you? Didn’t you end up with that boy from No. 1 High School?” He said: “Back then you’d run to No. 1 High School right after school.”

I smiled and said: “We broke up.”

As if to punctuate my sentence, snowflakes began fluttering down from the sky, pure white and ice cold.

Only then did I suddenly come to my senses: “Hey, how did we end up walking all the way here?”

This was actually near my and Grandma’s old home.

“Don’t you live here?”

“I moved long ago. It’s snowing, you should hurry home.” I quickly tried to hail a taxi, but couldn’t get one for a long time. Just then, Zhou Ting raised the keys in his hand: “Actually, I drove here.”

“Why didn’t you say so earlier!”

We walked back to the restaurant to get the car, our heads covered with snow. His car was a Tesla. He let me drive for a bit—it was quite interesting.

We talked and laughed and quickly drove to my front door.

“See you!” I waved.

He also smiled at me and said earnestly: “I know a really delicious mala hotpot place. I’ll take you there next time!”

I paused for a moment and said: “Actually I don’t really like eating that anymore.”

His expression looked a bit confused. I felt bad for him and wanted to say something more.

Just then, I heard a voice behind me.

“Dongxue—”