Fang Rulian’s ticket back to school was booked for Tuesday. She woke up early, ate a steamed bun, and hopped onto the back of the little electric scooter with her suitcase. Fang Hong, wearing her helmet, drove her to the high-speed rail station.
At the last moment, she still didn’t feel at ease about Fang Hong. After asking roundabout questions to confirm that her mother truly hadn’t been in contact with “those people” again, she reached out and hugged her mother—who was slightly shorter than herself—mumbling and lingering for a long while before finally entering the station.
Only after returning to school did she realize how good she had it at home.
The six-person dorm was cramped, stuffed with lockers and luggage. A roommate sitting on her bed eating takeout looked up, her gaze pausing before she drawled in a high-pitched, mocking voice, “Oh, look, the Young Mistress is back.”
Although Fang Rulian couldn’t remember the person clearly, she could sense the malice in her tone. At this moment, she didn’t care enough to figure out what past conflict she had with this roommate. She gave a perfunctory “Mhm,” walked to her desk to stow her luggage, and then opened the balcony door to air the room out.
The school’s graduation defense was scheduled for May 10th. The timing wasn’t too tight; the bulk of her thesis was already finished and had been sent to her advisor for review. All that remained were minor formatting adjustments.
The smell in the dorm was too strong, so she did a quick cleanup, grabbed her laptop, and headed to the library. She pulled up her old resume, opened a recruitment app, and spent the afternoon tailoring and sending out several applications.
Even though the internship salaries were only two or three thousand yuan, her applications yielded absolutely nothing.
On the second day, a few replies trickled in. Upon further inquiry, she found that the actual internship pay was even lower than what was listed on the app. One company even offered a few hundred yuan. In the thirty-degree heat, Fang Rulian trembled with rage and promptly blocked the garbage company.
On the third day, Fang Rulian started “sea-fishing”—mass-applying to everything. She didn’t limit herself to her major; she applied to any internship that was even remotely related, or not related at all.
On the fourth day, Fang Rulian finally landed a reliable interview. After an hour-long bus ride to the location, the interview lasted five minutes, and she was told to go home and wait for the results.
Finally, by the following Monday, Fang Rulian secured an internship. The salary was 2,500 yuan with only one day off a week. With the mindset of giving it a shot, she showed up for one day of work and then bailed.
The boss was an idiot. Fang Rulian felt that if she stayed around people like that for too long, she would become an idiot too.
Battered by reality, Fang Rulian began to reconsider Lu Ke’s suggestion. To be fair, Luwei City was a good place, and it was close to home.
She discussed this with Lu Ke, who offered to help her look for an apartment. Fang Rulian told her not to rush, as the graduation defense was right around the corner; she planned to look after the defense was over. In the meantime, she continued her part-time work as a commercial and photography model. Although the pay wasn’t high, it allowed her to save up some rent money for her future job.
The defense went smoothly. Fang Rulian’s advisor was the Vice Dean, so the committee didn’t make things too difficult for her.
The day the defense ended, she immediately went back to pack her bags and took a high-speed train that night to seek refuge with Lu Ke.
As she stepped off the train, the muggy, humid air rushed at her, and the noisy clamor of the crowds filled her ears. Fang Rulian dithered for a moment.
She was back here again.
The time it took to make this decision was much shorter than she had imagined. It felt like destiny—no matter where she tried to run in the middle, she was destined to settle here in the end.
That night, she stayed in a small hotel near the subway station.
Lu Ke stayed with her. Lying on one of the two small twin beds, Lu Ke asked with a laugh, “Did you secretly visit Luwei before? You’re so familiar with which subway line is at which exit.”
The pale light from the ceiling fell, casting shadows from her eyelashes onto her lower lids. Fang Rulian lied effortlessly, saying she had researched the route in advance.
She rolled over to face her friend and sincerely said, “Thank you.”
In her previous life, the end of her friendship with Lu Ke hadn’t been great. They had chased different futures and drifted apart until they reached a point where they couldn’t even bring themselves to start a conversation on WeChat.
“Hey, Lu Ke,” Fang Rulian said, lying on her side. “Did you see your idol?”
“I saw him once from a distance.” Lu Ke frowned slightly under the pale light, her expression complicated. “He’s a bit… short.”
They say you should stay away from your idol’s private life, and it’s true. “He wasn’t quite like I imagined. My ‘filter’ for him is a bit shattered.”
“Are you still going back these next few days?” Fang Rulian asked.
“I didn’t sign up again; I have too much school stuff to do.” Lu Ke stared at Fang Rulian, bringing up the old topic. “Are you really not going to try? You’re so pretty, you might even land a role as a featured extra… but it is tiring, so forget it. Oh, right! Director Fan Qi is holding auditions for the female lead in his new movie—”
She picked up her phone and forwarded the audition notice to Fang Rulian. “I sent in a resume just for fun. Why don’t you give it a try?”
Fang Rulian blinked, not showing much interest. “Let’s find a job first.”
Outside the window, a subway train roared past with a rhythmic whoosh. The white noise was hypnotic, and Fang Rulian’s eyelids grew heavy as she quickly fell into a dreamless sleep.
…
Big cities certainly have more opportunities. Within a few days, Fang Rulian received her first offer: a rotating 5/6 day work week with a base salary of 6,000 yuan. It sounded decent, but Fang Rulian quit after one day. The boss was an idiot who scheduled meetings exactly at clock-out time. She was forced to listen to a middle-aged man with a beer belly brag for three hours. By the time she walked out of the company, she was suffering from a hypoglycemic dizzy spell.
After learning from several colleagues that these meetings happened every day, Fang Rulian walked slowly onto a pedestrian bridge under the dim streetlights and sent a message to the HR manager saying she wouldn’t be coming back tomorrow.
She had silenced her phone during the meeting and forgotten to turn it back on. It wasn’t until she returned to her rental room that she saw the messages.
They were from Fang Hong, asking how her first day of work went.
An inexplicable irritability surged through her. She tossed her phone aside and cranked the air conditioner to the max until her temples throbbed from the cold.
She rolled over and sent a message back to Fang Hong: 【It was fine.】
Recalling how the “dead old man” boss kept glancing at her during the meeting, Fang Rulian almost gagged. After a moment, she couldn’t help but message Fang Hong again: 【The boss is a **. I quit. I’m looking for something else.】
The “Typing…” status in the chat box flickered for a long time before a message finally popped up:
【There are plenty of good jobs. If you’re not happy, don’t do it.】
【Do you still have money?】
The contact has transferred 5,000 yuan to you.
All the frustration that had been clogging her chest instantly dissolved, flowing warmly through her veins. Fang Rulian let out a deep breath, feeling incredibly lucky to have been born to her mother.
Jobless again, Fang Rulian resumed interviewing. On her busiest day, she had four interviews scheduled. She hurried to transfer between subway lines, only to be nearly suffocated by the sweltering air when she stepped out of the stations.
Sweaty and disheveled, she hurried to an interview site only to encounter another “idiot boss.” The salary wasn’t discussed and there were no benefits, yet he talked at length about “ideals,” “passions,” “sacrifice,” and “the future.” Fang Rulian nodded along politely while planning to take her resume back and leave once she’d enjoyed the AC for a bit.
In the end, she didn’t get the resume back. The boss had drawn a “business map” all over it. Fang Rulian was just glad it was a black-and-white print. With a head slightly dazed from the air conditioning, she headed downstairs.
“Excuse me, Miss! You can’t go this way, please take a detour!”
Fang Rulian looked up against the sunlight and realized the path she had taken earlier was now cordoned off. she looked at a group of men and women in the center of the crowd, as well as the black equipment standing on the edge. Suddenly, she felt a bit dazed.
A gust of wind blew, and something fluttered onto Fang Rulian’s shoe.
She leaned down to pick it up. It was a few stapled A4 sheets. Glancing at them, she realized it was a script.
“Hello…” A girl walked up to Fang Rulian, and the staff member maintaining order moved aside slightly.
Before the girl could finish, Fang Rulian handed her the papers and turned to walk away.
She had another interview scheduled for the afternoon, which was another thirty-plus minute subway ride away. It would be most logical to grab a meal and wait near the next interview location—but Fang Rulian went straight back to her rental room.
She lay spread-eagled on the bed, the cold air from the AC blowing over her chest and into her clothes, surrounding her completely.
She didn’t go to the afternoon interview. She didn’t even eat lunch. She just lay in that rental room all afternoon.
The hum of the air conditioner droned on, and the traffic outside was a noisy blur.
Fang Rulian thought: Why did she make this choice? Why did she give up that choice?
Since she had to work anyway, why was acting out of the question? Her suffering in her previous life didn’t actually stem from acting itself. Why was she “stopping eating because she choked once”?
She didn’t like her major to begin with, and she would only end up loathing a job in that field. In that case, why not choose something she actually liked?
Even from a practical standpoint, she shouldn’t give it up. Acting made money much faster.
She sat up abruptly, opened her recruitment app to check positions and salaries, and confirmed it again: Acting makes money way faster. Entering the entertainment industry makes money way faster.
Isn’t work all about the money?
Why couldn’t she do it? Why did she have to torture herself by choosing a path she had never walked, a path that looked miserable at first glance?
For an ordinary person trying to enter the industry, the biggest barriers are looks and acting ability.
Fang Rulian’s acting might still be up for debate, but her exquisite face was an undeniable advantage. Whether in a close-up on the big screen or on a television monitor, her face always grabbed the audience’s attention instantly. Even when she was riddled with scandals in her past life, that fact remained undeniable.
Not to mention, she had lived through it once. She had stepped in the pitfalls already, so she knew exactly how to avoid them now.
So, why not give it a try?
For the money. For herself.