When Su Ying got home, she gave the pork belly a quick trim, divided it into two portions, and stuck labels with the date on the food storage bags.
She then set about sorting through the mystery box of vegetables she’d bought; some of them were already starting to wilt, so she picked through them and divided them into four portions. She took a tin of tinned ham from the cupboard, divided it into four portions, and placed each one into a separate bag with the vegetables. By the time she’d finished all that, the cornstarch had soaked up the water, so she popped that in as well.
This was her ready-made spicy hotpot.
Next time she fancies it, she can simply take out a packet and start cooking straight away – saving time and effort.
She placed the prepared pork belly and the portioned spicy hot pot mix into the freezer compartment, then turned back to the kitchen to continue preparing tonight’s dinner.
She poured half a bottle of sour soup into the clay pot, added boiling water, and tossed in the leftover scraps from preparing the ingredients. She then took the frozen dumplings out of the fridge, put the lid on, and let it simmer for five minutes. A delicious aroma wafted through the air.
Delicious!
By the time Su Ying had eaten her fill, tidied up and returned to her room, it was nearly 10 o’clock. Without a moment’s hesitation, she switched on her computer and logged into the game.
The game Su Ying was playing was called Blades of Jianghu, a period-style role-playing game that had once been a massive hit. However, with mobile gaming now dominating the market and PC games gradually declining, even Blades of Jianghu had released a mobile version to keep up with the times. Yet, its massive memory requirements left many new players unable to access it.
No sooner had she logged in than a private message popped up.
[Su Yuyu: Farming? I’ve got a strong hunch about tonight.]
Su Ying quickly typed “Farming” and immediately accepted the party invitation from player Su Yuyu.
No sooner had she joined the party than she heard a crisp “Junior Sister” ring out over the in-game voice chat.
Like a clear spring flowing through a mountain ravine, hearing this voice made Su Ying feel refreshed all over, and half her fatigue vanished instantly.
Su Ying replied and waited for Su Jiayu to recruit teammates.
‘Mining’ was a gameplay mode within the game where players randomly explored dungeons with a total of 100 floors. Chests in these levels had a chance of dropping pets, equipment, materials, and even fashion items.
These treasures were exclusive to the dungeons. Furthermore, as exploring the dungeons required teamwork and the gameplay was rather tedious for some, many of the drops—especially the top-tier ones—could fetch a good price on the trading post.
During her university days, Su Ying supported herself entirely through this part-time job. Even after starting full-time work, she still earned several hundred yuan a month on average—a decent side income in a small city like Chuncheng.
This time, the team was in luck: upon clearing the dungeon, they obtained a fashion item with an extremely low drop rate, the ‘Longing Beauty’.
The defining feature of the ‘Longing Beauty’ is its colour-changing ability. Its base colour is blue, but when a partner is on the same map, it turns pink; as the partner draws nearer, the colour deepens until it eventually turns red.
Consequently, it has become a popular token of affection for many male players when courting.
Another male player in the party called out to Su Jiayu in a gruff voice: “Oh, well, no need to list it on the auction house then. Just give it to your partner—that’ll save on the middleman’s cut. Just pay me the market price for my copy.”
“She’s not my partner,” Su Jiayu replied bluntly. “She’s my junior sister.”
“Er…” The player fell silent for a moment, then laughed awkwardly. “You two work so well together, and your IDs look like a couple’s—I thought you were a couple, haha.”
Su Ying’s in-game ID was “Su Yingying”, and Su Jiayu’s was “Su Yuyu”—didn’t they look just like a couple’s IDs?
Back when they first saw each other’s IDs in the game, they’d both exclaimed what a coincidence it was.
Su Jiayu chuckled, “Don’t go slandering my junior sister’s reputation. I’ve added you; I’ll send you the money once I’ve sold it.”
Su Ying yawned; she was used to this sort of banter by now.
Su Jiayu keenly sensed Su Ying’s weariness and asked with concern, “Are you tired, junior sister? Then let’s call it a day for today.”
Su Ying nodded, shut down the game and took off her headphones.
Six years ago, Su Yingying, a college student, would have wept bitterly and been heartbroken for a whole week after being rejected by Su Yuyu, a top student from a prestigious university.
Six years later, Su Ying, a private-sector worker earning three thousand yuan a month, no longer harboured any delusions of developing a relationship with Su Jiayue, a municipal civil servant, beyond that of senior and junior siblings in the game.
Even though they lived in the same city, and even though they had each other’s addresses and contact details, they still tacitly agreed not to suggest meeting up in person.
She glanced at a small card pinned to the corkboard behind her computer. It depicted a female character in a yellow and pink outfit leaning against a male character clad in red armour; due to the animation’s timing, it looked as though the two were embracing.
She stared at it for a moment, then climbed into bed.
Best get some rest early; she had to go to that damned job tomorrow.
If only she didn’t have to go to work…
Perhaps the sheer weight of her resentment after twelve consecutive days on the job had finally reached the heavens. Having listened intently to Su Ying’s wish, the heavens took pity on her and granted her wish.
This day was no different from any other: the lift was still being held up by some beast, the cold wind was still biting, and Liu Ying was still being sarcastic at the company entrance.
Yet Su Ying felt inexplicably uneasy. She tried to suppress the twitching in her right eyelid, which had been going on all morning, as she sat at her desk staring at the tightly shut company doors.
She had a nagging feeling that something momentous was about to happen today.
As if to confirm her suspicions, at 9 o’clock in the morning, suppliers began arriving at the office one after another to demand payment. Su Ying bustled about, serving them tea and water and trying to contact the boss, but his phone remained stubbornly out of reach.
As time passed, more and more people arrived at the office; even the site contractors came with their workers to block the entrance.
The office, which had always seemed empty, was now teeming with people and in an uproar.
Su Ying’s mind—hardly what one would call brilliant—was no match for such a major crisis, but amidst the chaos, she did manage to piece one thing together—
Her boss had run off.
Not only had the boss been in debt to suppliers for nearly six months, but the construction workers’ wages had also gone unpaid for nearly three months. During the New Year period, he had also collected over a million—nearly two million—in advance renovation fees.
By a conservative estimate, he’d absconded with several million yuan.
Liu Ying had already collapsed on the floor, rolling about and weeping bitterly. She’d been the top salesperson for the New Year’s campaign; by rights, her commission alone should have amounted to over 20,000 yuan.
She wailed about how she’d ever manage the mortgage on her home and how she was supposed to support her two children.
However, Su Ying had no time to worry about others’ affairs. Her most pressing concern right now was that the boss had absconded, meaning she wouldn’t be getting last month’s wages. How on earth was she supposed to survive?
Taking advantage of the chaos in the office, Su Ying slipped away from the crowd and opened the small storeroom. Inside were the gifts intended for new and existing clients for New Year’s Day: large gift packs of nuts featuring three penguins.
Su Ying carried five boxes in each hand as she left the company.
Ten boxes wasn’t Su Ying’s limit; it was the limit of her hands and her electric scooter.
It wasn’t until she was halfway there on her electric scooter that she began to regret her own foolishness. Why had she only taken such worthless items? She should have taken the computers from the design department.
If it weren’t for the limitations of the scooter, she’d even have considered taking the company’s fridge, microwave and television home.
For some reason, Su Ying suddenly thought of Su Jiayu. He had a car; if she asked him for help, surely she could have taken even more things home?
But the thought had barely crossed her mind before Su Ying quashed it.
She’d just take the gift boxes home first and worry about the rest later.
When Su Ying arrived home, her flatmate, Auntie Lin, was busily working on a craft project in the living room.
Auntie Lin had been working night shifts recently; after finishing work, she would do some handicrafts before going to bed.
Hearing the door open, she didn’t even look up as she said, “The landlord just texted me, saying he couldn’t get through to you. He asked me to let you know it’s time to pay the rent. Same deal as always—pay quarterly and get 50 off.”
Su Ying rented the master bedroom with an en-suite bathroom for 550 a month. Even with the 50 discount for quarterly payments, that still came to 1,600.
Su Ying explained, “I was busy with something at work just now and didn’t hear it.”
Aunt Lin didn’t respond, simply concentrating on the craft in her hands.
Su Ying opened her mouth, wanting to say something but finding no words. After all, she was just a flatmate.
Carrying a gift box of walnuts that looked like a peacock’s tail, she slipped into her own room. She pulled out her mobile and saw three missed calls.
Su Ying hurriedly opened WeChat, and a message from her landlord immediately popped up:
“Su, you haven’t paid this month’s rent yet. I know young people like you don’t have much to spare, but your company will be paying wages on the 15th, won’t they? If you’re not renewing the lease, please move out before the 15th.”
Su Ying quickly typed a reply: “Auntie, I missed your call because of work. I’ll pay the rent as soon as I get my wages.”
The landlady replied with an “OK”.
Su Ying put down her phone, sat on the edge of the bed, and stared blankly at the curtains on the window.
The company had gone under. There was absolutely no chance they’d pay her wages.
So what was she going to do about the rent?
She took out her phone. Her bank balance was less than a thousand yuan. If she sold the in-game outfit she’d dropped last time, she’d probably get a bit over two hundred, and she could sell some in-game currency from her account, but even added together, it wouldn’t be enough for the rent.
Su Ying felt a twinge of regret. Last month, she’d gritted her teeth and paid off the final instalment of her student loan. If only she hadn’t paid back those three thousand…
She hung her head, feeling a bit downcast, but life isn’t full of ‘what ifs’.
Almost on autopilot, Su Ying switched on her computer and logged into the game. But no sooner had she entered her account details than the screen displayed ‘Account logging in…’—and immediately, a message from Su Jiayue popped up on WeChat.
[Senior Brother: Is that you?]
Only then did Su Ying remember that Su Jiayu would use his mobile to help her with her daily tasks whilst slacking off at work. She hurriedly replied: ‘It’s me. Sorry, Senior Brother, I logged in on your account.’
[Senior Brother: No problem, go ahead then.]
[Senior Brother: Wait, aren’t you at work today?]
Su Ying stared at her phone screen for a long moment before slowly typing a few words: My boss has run off.
【Senior: ……】
Su Ying stared blankly at the ellipsis in the chat window. She watched as the ‘Typing…’ indicator on the other end remained, yet no message came. She reckoned that someone with a secure job like her senior would never have imagined a company could simply disappear.
He’d probably say something like, ‘It’s 2025 and a company’s actually gone belly-up?’, or ‘Next time, keep your eyes peeled and find a decent firm.’
If he were offering comfort, it’d likely be something insubstantial like, ‘It’s fine, just find a better company,’ or ‘Let me give you a pat on the back.’
Yet, to her surprise, the first thing to pop up wasn’t a message, but a transfer for 5,000 yuan.
[Senior: “Here, take this for now. No need to rush to pay it back. The New Year’s holidays are coming up, so just treat it as an early holiday. Have a good rest, and look for a job after the holidays.”]
[Senior: “Heart.jpg”]
Su Ying clutched her phone, unaware that tears had long since blurred her vision.