The light inside the room was dim.
The sunlight fought hard to penetrate the heavy curtains. Finally, as the sun reached a certain angle, a sliver of light slipped through the gap between the two fabric panels, illuminating a messy head of hair on the pillow.
Jiang Ting frowned. In her groggy state, she suspected Cong Yixing had turned off the air conditioner. Why else would it be so hot?
At the thought of this possibility, Jiang Ting—who had been spoiled into becoming quite irritable over the past few years by her boyfriend—opened her eyes in a huff. she fumbled for her phone on the nightstand, ready to denounce Cong Yixing’s “wicked” deed. Turning off someone’s AC during the dog days of summer was simply going too far!
The phone screen lit up, showing the time, date, and temperature against a pale pink wallpaper.
11:32 AM, Monday, July 21, 2026. Dongfu District. Sunny. 36°C (97°F).
The temperature was that high already?
Jiang Ting glanced at the wall-mounted air conditioner on the opposite wall. It was running at 26°C, her preferred setting.
She kicked off the light summer quilt and sat up, feeling her sweat-dampened back. Her pajamas were practically glued to her skin.
Vaguely, she felt that the temperature lately hadn’t been quite right. Yu City was located toward the north and usually had four distinct seasons; summers were never excessively hot, and winters weren’t unbearably cold.
Could it really be what the experts were saying—that global temperatures were rising?
She shook her head, not particularly caring. She rarely went out anyway, spending the entire summer in air-conditioned rooms. No matter how poisonous the sun was outside, it couldn’t reach her.
Then she remembered she had a boyfriend who had to brave the heat for work. Sigh. She offered him three seconds of sympathy.
Her phone was always on silent while she slept. WeChat showed over a dozen unread messages. Jiang Ting tapped the app and started reading from the pinned chat: Mr. Cong.
Mr. Cong: I left some porridge simmering in the pot for you. When you wake up, use the electric griddle to fry some dumplings for yourself.
Mr. Cong: Just have a light snack. Wait for me to get off work, and I’ll cook something delicious for you.
Mr. Cong: It’s incredibly hot today. Just the hundred-meter walk from the house to the complex entrance made me sweat. And that was early this morning.
Mr. Cong: I’m at the office. Next time I really need to park under a tree, otherwise the sun turns the car into an oven.
Mr. Cong: Starting work now.
Her brain, still sluggish from sleep, took a moment to process everything. She remembered complaining before bed last night that she was tired of takeout; she had said she wanted the porridge Cong Yixing made and some fried beef dumplings.
She hadn’t crawled into bed until nearly 2:00 AM. Cong Yixing had been sound asleep, but her tossing and turning had woken him. He had pulled her into a hug, but she had pushed him away, complaining about the heat, and mumbled a few words while scrolling on her phone. He had remembered every word.
That was just how he was. Whenever she made a casual remark—about things she might not even remember herself—he would hold onto it tightly.
His execution was also top-tier. He had to leave for work at 7:00 AM, yet he had gotten up half an hour early just to simmer porridge for her.
Her slightly restless morning heart suddenly felt comforted. Jiang Ting happily hopped onto the scale.
104.65 lbs.
Well, she was a tiny bit thinner than yesterday. Progress.
She took her phone with her to wash up, replying to Cong Yixing while brushing her teeth.
Little Jiang Eats Ginger: That’s the problem with old neighborhoods. Too few parking spots, so you have to park on the curb. Why don’t we move? Isn’t our lease about to end anyway?
Cong Yixing couldn’t reply instantly while working. Jiang Ting exited their chat and looked at her other messages.
Her work group had accumulated over 200 unread messages over the morning. Luckily, she had the notifications muted.
She skipped the work group for now and opened a private chat with her friend.
A-Bing: Why is the salary being paid later and later every month?
A-Bing: The Guild requirements are getting more and more demanding too. At this rate, I might as well go out and find a part-time job!
Little Jiang Eats Ginger: Whoa, we got paid?
Little Jiang Eats Ginger: It’s the 21st and they finally remembered to pay us?
Her friend replied instantly.
A-Bing: Paid! If they waited any longer, I wouldn’t even be able to afford milk tea!
Little Jiang Eats Ginger: No choice. Money is hard to earn, and life is hard to swallow. Sigh!
While Jiang Ting acted all gloom-and-doom online, in reality, she gleefully opened her bank SMS notification. Sure enough, she saw: Income +3500.
She screenshotted the message and sent it to Cong Yixing, bragging: See that? This is the power of a rich lady. With a monthly income of 3500, I’m going to eat meat until I burst! BBQ feast tonight, on Ms. Jiang’s tab!
It was close to Cong Yixing’s lunch break. He replied quickly this time. Just as Jiang Ting finished washing her face, she saw his response: Whoa! Looks like I’m feasting on a sugar mama tonight!
Cong Yixing: I’ll eat less for lunch then, saving room for the meat! (Happy spinning dance.gif)
Little Jiang Eats Ginger: (Haughty Boss with Sunglasses.jpg)
After spending some time on her skincare routine until noon, Jiang Ting gulped down half a cup of warm water and went to the kitchen to find food.
The midday sun was blindingly bright. Even the kitchen, which didn’t get direct sunlight during this season, was steaming hot. The heat surged in through the half-open window. Jiang Ting, having just pushed open the glass sliding door, immediately took a giant step back. She turned and fumbled through a small basket hanging by the entryway to find a pair of sunglasses. Then, she turned on the living room AC before returning to shut the kitchen window.
Inside the rice cooker was a pot of rice, mung bean, and red date porridge. It had been on the “Keep Warm” setting, making it thick, soft, and fragrant.
The electric griddle, usually tucked away, had been placed on the counter by Cong Yixing—likely because he was afraid she wouldn’t be able to find it.
Jiang Ting grabbed a half-bag of frozen beef dumplings from the freezer. Standing before the counter, she took a selfie with the dumplings and sent it to Cong Yixing.
Cong Yixing, who was likely eating in the company cafeteria, replied: Frying dumplings in sunglasses? Very cool!
Jiang Ting immediately broke into a silly grin. While frying the dumplings, she fiddled with her phone to reply to other messages.
She replied to her friends first, then finally started looking at work messages.
Since the previous month’s salary had just been paid, the Guild management—probably thinking everyone was in a good mood—had sent a private message about changes to next month’s work content.
Jiang Ting hadn’t wanted to work a traditional job after graduation. Cong Yixing had no objections to this. Though he never said anything cheesy like “I’ll take care of you, don’t work,” he had always worked very hard to earn money and support her.
But she had felt bad herself. Conveniently, with the rise of short-video platforms and her college degree including editing courses, she decided to find a work-from-home editing gig. She didn’t expect to make a fortune; she just wanted her income to cover her daily food and drink expenses.
Her luck was quite good. Just when she was looking, an opportunity fell into her lap. There was a mobile game she had enjoyed playing during college. To attract new players and maintain its popularity against competitors, the game had established an in-game Guild. They recruited players who had a deep understanding of the game and some editing skills to post videos from their own accounts on short-video platforms for promotion. The salary was based on video popularity and quality.
She had successfully applied. She only needed to post twenty “qualified” game videos (10–60 seconds each) per month. Depending on the quality, the pay ranged from 1,000 to 10,000 yuan.
In her first month, Jiang Ting had only earned the base 1,000. From the second month onward, she had maintained a steady 3,000 to 4,000 yuan.
Compared to A-Bing, who only ever got the base pay, Jiang Ting was very satisfied with her salary. Though she felt she could earn more if she worked harder, earning more meant being more tired!
She preferred it like this: sleeping until noon, eating lunch, and if she felt industrious in the afternoon, playing a few rounds of the game to record footage and then editing a few videos.
If she felt lazy one day, she could just go on strike whenever she wanted. Anyway, she had a habit of keeping a backlog of stock videos; she could indulge herself for half a month without any issues!
She had lived this stress-free life for two or three years since graduating.
Meanwhile, Cong Yixing had found a suitable job immediately after graduation. Except for the first six months being a bit hectic, he had gotten the hang of it and could now leave work on time!
Yu City was, after all, a second-tier city with a population of millions. In a society where people would work themselves to death if they didn’t “grind,” a second-tier city worker being able to leave on time was an impressive feat!
Cong Yixing is the best!
Thinking this, Jiang Ting marveled once again. Though she was lazy, greedy, and lacked ambition, her eye for a partner was truly excellent.
While eating, Jiang Ting pondered the idea of moving.
She had rented this apartment back in college. At the time, to save money and for the safety of living alone, she had chosen an older residential complex. The size of the complex was decent, but it had been built too long ago. Most buildings were only six stories high with no elevators, and the facilities were quite dated.
Most importantly, there were too few parking spots, and the nearby intersections were prone to terrible traffic during rush hour!
She hadn’t met Cong Yixing or owned a car when she first rented it, so parking hadn’t been a consideration.
She had simply liked the complete public facilities nearby: there was a hospital, an elementary school, a middle school, supermarkets, and a wet market. Transportation was also very convenient; there was a bus right at the entrance that went straight to her school, and a subway station just a few hundred meters away.
Furthermore, most residents were locals with families, meaning there were plenty of elderly people and children. While this made the environment a bit noisy, it was safe! Unlike some newly built apartments filled with migrant workers and a more transient population.
Having seen too many news stories about solo female renters being harmed, Jiang Ting—who always valued her life—took safety very seriously.
The landlord was a very kind local auntie. She had received this apartment in a divorce settlement during middle age. Because she had to help care for her grandchildren, she lived in a new house in the neighboring district. Jiang Ting had snapped up the old apartment as soon as it hit the rental market, and she had been there for four years now.
In those four years, the auntie had never raised the rent. Although the furniture and appliances were a bit old, the auntie was very proactive in fixing any issues that arose. Even later, when Cong Yixing moved in to live with her, the landlord hadn’t said a word.
Jiang Ting actually quite liked living here.
But now she couldn’t just think of herself. Cong Yixing’s workplace was too far from here—nearly an hour’s drive. Work started at 8:30 AM, so he had to leave by 7:00 AM. The roads were often congested, which made the drive even more draining.
She had brought up the idea of renting a place closer to his office a year ago, but Cong Yixing had refused, saying his job wasn’t stable enough yet and he didn’t want the hassle.
Actually, the main reason was that his company was located near the outskirts of the city. The surrounding area was somewhat remote, and the lack of public facilities was one thing, but more importantly, there were very few takeout options.
She was a picky eater, and out of countless takeout shops, only a few met her approval. Since his lunch break wasn’t long enough for him to come home and cook for her, he was afraid Jiang Ting would go hungry if they lived there.
Initially, Jiang Ting hadn’t known about Cong Yixing’s concerns; she had only managed to pry it out of him by chance. While her heart felt warmed, she also wanted to give something back to him.
For instance, making him “love-filled” lunches, cleaning the house so he wouldn’t have to do chores, having dinner ready for him before he got home…
She couldn’t do any of that.
Oh well. It seemed she could only repay him with a bit of silent love.
After finishing her lunch, Jiang Ting tossed the used dishes into the sink, clapped her hands, and turned away with a flourish. She waited for Cong Yixing to come home and do the dishes without a shred of guilt.
Brewing herself a cup of rose tea, a well-fed Jiang Ting carried her cup to the computer desk in the study and lazily pressed the power button.
She didn’t feel like playing games today, so she found some old footage, opened her editing software, and started working.
Chatting while editing—how could that not be considered slacking off?
She took a moment to look at the unread messages in the work group. Scrolling from the top, she realized that a bunch of people were talking about the weather instead of work.
The topic started with a friend mentioning droughts in various places.
Another “colleague” from Cang Province said that even Cang Province was facing a drought.
Jiang Ting had seen news about this a few days ago while scrolling. As a major grain-producing province in China, Cang Province’s total grain output last year reached 110 million tons, accounting for about ten percent of the national total.
Because a great river called the Cang River ran through it, its name had never been changed throughout history—it was always called Cang Province. Cang for the Cang River, but also Cang for granary.
The Cang River was vast with abundant water, nourishing the same land for thousands of years.
Consequently, Cang Province was fertile with a pleasant climate, making it a very prosperous region since ancient times. No one had ever heard of a drought in Cang Province!
When she saw the news online, Jiang Ting hadn’t taken it seriously. But now, looking at what this “colleague” was saying, it seemed to be quite severe.
The colleague mentioned that it hadn’t rained in Cang Province since the start of summer, which was very abnormal.
Someone piped up, saying there were plenty of places where it didn’t rain—what was the big deal if it didn’t rain for a few months?
Another person said the authorities had stated it was caused by the El Niño current and wouldn’t last long.
Someone else retorted, and so they chatted for over 200 messages about the El Niño current.
“…I don’t get it. Everyone is so well-educated.”
Jiang Ting sighed, scrolled back up, and clicked on a news link shared by the colleague from Cang Province: “Cang River Water Levels at Historical Low; Cang Province May Enter Its Most Severe Drought in History!” As she read, her brow furrowed unconsciously.
Was it really that serious? It felt like it hadn’t rained in Yu City for a long time either, and the heat was abnormal. Was that El-whatever current really that powerful? Could its impact cover the whole country? Some were even saying that the rainy South hadn’t seen rain in a long time… How strange. Where did all the water on the planet go?
Perhaps infected by the colleague’s anxiety, Jiang Ting felt a bit thirsty.
“My period is over; I can drink cold water now.”
With this thought, Jiang Ting’s eyes remained glued to her phone, but her empty right hand moved into a gripping position. In the blink of an eye, a chilled, sweating can of iced cola appeared out of thin air in her hand.