Chapter 40
by Salted FishZheng Jie’s heart had finally healed, and everyone returned to their own paths. Xie Lei came and left, Situ Ye came and left, Yang Zhiyuan, Zhao Yuhang, Li Yanru… Many people passed through their lives like a revolving lantern, only to fade away in the end. Once again, it was just Lin Ze and Zheng Jie left, continuing their lives.
Their own lives, yet lives lived together.
Lin Ze tidied himself up, got a haircut, and when he looked in the mirror, he suddenly noticed his hairline had receded slightly—thunderstruck. Over this period, he had been thunderstruck no less than ten times—twice from stepping on the scale and five times from being called “a man with mature charm” by Little Angel’s girlfriend.
No way. Lin Ze firmly believed his mindset was still young.
That day, as soon as he got home, Zheng Jie’s aunt excitedly arranged a blind date for her nephew, as if selling goods. Zheng Jie was a dark horse! A monthly salary of 8,000! Department manager! As for the debt issue, Lin Ze had explained it to Zheng Jie, and Zheng Jie had relayed it to his aunt, so everyone tacitly agreed the money didn’t need to be repaid.
He owned a house! No in-laws! A… virgin! Zheng Jie was practically gilded and pushed back into the survival-of-the-fittest dating market. Zheng Jie kept saying he didn’t want to go, that he was too tired to love again, but Lin Ze urged him on, saying, “Go, you might meet a nice girl.”
In a city where the average salary was 2,800, Zheng Jie’s conditions were undeniably attractive. His aunt even exaggerated his prospects—learning to drive, favored by the boss, soon to have a Mercedes—piling every possible future perk onto the scale.
And so, Zheng Jie mustered his spirits and set off on the dating trail once more.
Carrying a bag, he pushed open the door of Starbucks, ordered coffee, and took a seat, hoping to shift his mood. Today, he planned to work on a feature about marriage. Several reporters couldn’t find him in the office after their interviews and called Lin Ze, who said, “I’m at Starbucks on Bei Cheng Tian Street. Come over after you’re done—I’ll treat you to coffee.”
Only Lin Ze would move the office outside. Several reporters arrived, each with a coffee in hand. As Lin Ze reviewed their drafts and gave feedback, one reporter whispered to a colleague, “The boss really likes this place.”
“Haven’t been here in a while,” Lin Ze said, his ears sharp enough to catch the murmurs. “This is where Situ Ye used to work.”
“Oh—” Most of them, except Little Angel, wore thoughtful expressions.
The Starbucks wasn’t crowded today. The few customers present glanced at them—reporters with cameras slung over their shoulders or notebooks in hand, looking like some club holding a meeting. After reviewing everyone’s drafts from the inbox, Lin Ze asked, “Do your grandparents and parents have old photos?”
Most said yes.
Lin Ze was gearing the entire office up to compete for this year’s city-wide newspaper feature award. Love and marriage were timeless hot topics. Inspired by Zheng Jie’s aunt, he planned to explore marriage.
A man who’d never been married tackling a marriage feature sounded absurd, but Lin Ze already had an idea. The feature would serve as a platform for the audience to speak for themselves. The title: “Love Across Three Generations.”
The feature would start with the marriages of grandparents and parents, recounting love stories from the 1950s-60s and 1970s-80s. They had lived through so much—the Cultural Revolution, reforms, shifting values on money—while views on love quietly transformed… Nowadays, society had a default assessment of marriage: the marital bonds of past generations were more stable than today’s. People in their fifties and sixties rarely divorced. Was it ignorance or devotion? Had they loved before marrying? If not, what drove them to dedicate their lives to family? Arranged meetings leading to steady, lifelong unions—what lessons did such marriages hold for the modern era?
What could the younger generation learn from their parents’ marriages?
Lin Ze explained the team’s goal: “I’ve already pitched it to the editor-in-chief. He agreed to give us four full pages. Your task is to go home, find photos, get permission, and learn about your parents. You can also ask your partners, their parents, grandparents… Anything goes. Any thoughts?”
Little Angel thought for a moment, then spoke about his parents. His father was a teacher, his mother a vegetable seller at the market. Smiling, he told his colleagues how his father, a primary school teacher in town, cooked for himself and went to the market daily. Back then, his grandmother took his mother there to sell vegetables. His mother was very pretty, and that’s how they met—later marrying.
“What about you?” Lin Ze asked.
Little Angel hesitated, seemingly embarrassed. His colleagues knew his girlfriend was a “river east wife”1A local term for a strong-willed woman. Teasing and laughter erupted, leaving Little Angel flushed. Finally, he announced, “We’re getting married early next year. You’re all invited to the wedding.”
Lin Ze smiled. “The red envelopes won’t be small.”
Someone asked if the wedding house was ready. Little Angel admitted no money—they’d “naked marry”2Marry without material preparations, and she was willing. The group marveled. Lin Ze promised the whole office would be there to bless them.
An older female reporter, a big sister to many, well-liked for her kindness and mentorship, shared that her parents were rural farmers. Her mother, a refugee, was taken in by her father. By the time they married, she was already born.
Lin Ze nodded slowly. The reporter’s mother later had a son, her brother. The family was loving, with no favoritism. After high school, her mother wanted her to marry, but her father—no blood relation—insisted she continue studying. She met her husband in college, married after graduation, and moved back to Chongqing with him.
As Lin Ze listened, his phone rang. Zheng Jie asked, “Where are you? Need to talk.”
“Bei Cheng Tian Street. Come over,” Lin Ze replied.
Lin Ze listened with interest as everyone shared their families. Unhappy memories were glossed over; most focused on joyful ones. Many colleagues had never paid much attention to their parents’ relationships. This feature sparked a desire to understand them.
Zheng Jie arrived. He knew a few of Lin Ze’s colleagues and greeted them. After buying coffee, he listened.
“Submissions don’t need to be flashy,” Lin Ze concluded. “Get to work. This feature will take at least a month to prepare—no rush.”
The reporters dispersed. Zheng Jie slumped on the table like a dead dog.
Lin Ze asked, “What’s wrong?”
Zheng Jie groaned, “So tired. Don’t want to love anymore.”
Lin Ze: “…”
“How was the blind date the other day?” Lin Ze recalled it was two nights ago. Zheng Jie hadn’t mentioned it since. Zheng Jie confessed, “I’ve got a big problem, A’Ze.”
Lin Ze: “?”
“With the blind date?” Lin Ze asked. “First, how was she?”
Zheng Jie shrugged. “Not bad, but no spark.”
Lin Ze’s head throbbed. No spark… spark spark spark… Even Zheng Jie was falling into this trap. Frowning, he scolded, “It’s a blind date. What spark do you expect? Love at first sight?”
Zheng Jie lay on the table, clutching his coffee cup, then looked up at Lin Ze and stuck out his tongue—just like their Alaskan at home. Lin Ze remembered the dog. “Need to feed the dog.”
“Already did,” Zheng Jie muttered.
The new blind date hadn’t rejected him, which only made Zheng Jie gloomier. He inexplicably felt this wasn’t the love he wanted. He wasn’t happy.
The girl resembled the beauty he’d once met at the Lancôme counter—reserved, showing slight interest, chatting about work. Zheng Jie suddenly understood. He texted her goodnight; she replied. The next day, he told his aunt it wasn’t a match.
His aunt waved it off—no problem, she’d find another. Plenty of fish.
Lin Ze was baffled. “Isn’t this good? Not much different from the one you really liked before.”
Zheng Jie sighed. “That’s not the point. A’Ze, there’s something else. You’ve got to help me.”
Lin Ze: “?”
Zheng Jie: “Our female boss… seems kind of into me.”
Lin Ze: “…”
Zheng Jie’s boss wasn’t the company’s chairperson. In her forties, divorced for a decade, she had a 19-year-old daughter in college, raising her alone.
Lin Ze: “Didn’t you say she wanted you as a son-in-law?”
Zheng Jie: “No! I just found out today—she might want me!”
Lin Ze inwardly groaned. Trouble, trouble, big trouble. Zheng Jie elaborated: The boss had several partners in the business. She managed their Chongqing and Chengdu branches—quite influential. Zheng Jie had performed well since joining, so she often took him to networking events. Sometimes, she even had him pick up her daughter.
Worse, her daughter seemed to like Zheng Jie too. Back when Zheng Jie was dating Rongrong, she’d met the daughter. They’d all stayed friends. Lin Ze had joked, “If the boss wants you as a son-in-law, would you break up with Rongrong?”
The answer was Lin Ze getting punched. According to Zheng Jie, the daughter often confided in him, complaining about immature boys at school—just kids.
Of course they were immature—boys matured slower than girls. In a male-dominated society, men faced less pressure, lacking urgency. Girls, meanwhile, were taught early to rely on themselves, work hard… A disparity born of women’s awakening clashing with patriarchy—an inevitable result of progress. Many urban men grew up sheltered, only facing responsibility after college. Those living with parents post-graduation often remained childish.
Rural boys matured early, but girls scorned “phoenix men”, creating a mental age gap in relationships. The boss’s daughter had many suitors but found them all childish.
The boss occasionally asked Zheng Jie to buy groceries. If free, he’d help prep them. Both he and Lin Ze had gotten their driver’s licenses. Sometimes, he’d drive to fetch her daughter, who called him “big brother.” Zheng Jie had zero interest in such girls—especially with fiancée Rongrong—so he kept it professional, dropping her home.
When the girl was upset, Zheng Jie kindly comforted her.
He’d never mentioned his relationship to the boss. She’d asked a few times; Zheng Jie simply said he had a partner. Curious, she’d hinted at whether he was gay, since he often brought up Lin Ze at work.
Zheng Jie rarely discussed his love life at the office, but once, drunk, he’d shouted, “Wife, wife, I love you!” After that, the boss stopped probing.
Then Zheng Jie mentioned his breakup. Trouble followed. He was down for a while. At first, the boss asked; Zheng Jie said they’d fought and might not reconcile. She consoled him: “Forget it, focus on work.”
Hearing of his heartbreak, the daughter took him to a class party, introducing him as her brother. Last night, mother and daughter had a huge fight. The daughter texted Zheng Jie at midnight: She’d left home. Could she stay with him?
Zheng Jie, dead asleep, saw it in the morning. He called, urging her home. She refused, saying she was at a friend’s. At work, Zheng Jie approached the boss, who hesitated before coolly telling him to ignore her daughter. Business as usual. Then she asked if he was free for dinner to discuss it.
“Look,” Zheng Jie showed Lin Ze the text:
[Brother Zheng Jie, last night I fought with Mom. I want to live somewhere without her. Sometimes I hate being her daughter, hate meeting someone I shouldn’t in these circumstances. Some things sound absurd, but they keep happening around me—hard not to believe.]
Lin Ze read it and thought, Zheng Jie, you’ve gotten sharper.
Zheng Jie: “What do you think?”
Lin Ze nodded slowly. Poor Zheng Jie—one relationship, and he’d learned so much about girls’ minds?
Zheng Jie: “Looking back, General Manager Wang also acted… weird. But back then, I was with Rongrong, busy with the house, didn’t think much.”
Lin Ze was torn between laughter and tears. “If you’re right and both mother and daughter like you, this is tricky. When do you think it started?”
Zheng Jie: “Dinner’s tonight. What do I do?”
Lin Ze had a headache but found Zheng Jie hilarious. He pinched his cheek and patted him. “Our little Jiejie is quite popular.”
Zheng Jie groaned. “What do I do?!”
Lin Ze pondered. “Did you tell her about the blind dates?”
Zheng Jie: “Yes. Said I was down because of the breakup, and my family’s setting me up.”
Lin Ze was stumped. Zheng Jie was more attractive than he’d thought—maybe due to the job change or the heartbreak. But the boss… Lin Ze asked, “Do you like her? I know you prefer mature women. If you’re open to an older woman…”
Zheng Jie was aghast. “No way! The age gap’s too big!”
Lin Ze cracked up. Zheng Jie added, “I’m grateful to her. She recognizes my talent, gives me chances, teaches me a lot. But no romantic feelings.”
Lin Ze: “Not even tempted to try?”
Zheng Jie’s face twisted. He shook his head vehemently. “Then just reject her,” Lin Ze advised. “Be direct. She’s a boss—been around. Won’t let personal feelings interfere with work.”
Zheng Jie nodded. Lin Ze knew he was also troubled. Was his promotion due to his looks? Trading his appearance for his position? That’d be pathetic.
“Don’t overthink it,” Lin Ze reassured. “Your salary’s entirely based on skill. Nothing to do with her feelings.”
Zheng Jie nodded. Lin Ze added, “Want me to come tonight?”
Zheng Jie perked up. “We won’t sit together,” Lin Ze explained. “I’ll observe nearby, see what your boss is like, then analyze it later.”
Zheng Jie: “Deal. I’ll head back to work.”
Zheng Jie left. Lin Ze knew their interactions were limited—no way his looks got him promoted. Please. He’d met many strong career women. If they wanted a boy toy, they’d pay him, not groom him professionally. Such women had high standards. Without ability, Zheng Jie wouldn’t have caught her eye.
He started on today’s news. Zhao Yuhang called: summer break, bored at home, did Lin Ze want to hang out? Lin Ze told him about Zheng Jie.
“Yikes,” Zhao Yuhang cut in. “Isn’t this easy to solve?”
Lin Ze deadpanned, “Another ‘act first, think later’ plan? Got any non-terrible ideas?”
Zhao Yuhang: “Have my ideas ever been terrible? Last time you ignored me, and look—heartbreak, sad love songs, ‘the sorrow of love knows no bounds’…”
Lin Ze was speechless. Zhao Yuhang continued, “Just have Zheng Jie say he’s gay! Think about it—it’s normal! Offends no one…”
Lin Ze: “Since when is being gay normal?!”
Zhao Yuhang: “I mean, admitting he’s gay makes rejecting her normal! All signs point to him being gay! Living with a guy, saying he has a partner but never mentioning Rongrong to the boss—just that they broke up. Could’ve been with you! Now? Time to settle down, so he had to break up with his boyfriend and date women—hence the gloom…”
Lin Ze: “That lie’s too risky! It’ll hurt his career!”
Zhao Yuhang: “How? He’s not in a state job, his boss is a woman, and he’s not dating at work. It’ll cut trouble. Rejecting her outright is just as bad. Or—just date him yourself. Solves both your problems…”
“Stop!” Lin Ze cut him off. “Weren’t you pushing Brother Ke on me?”
Zhao Yuhang remembered. “Ah, right! Brother Ke! When are you visiting Beijing?”
Lin Ze: “…”
Zhao Yuhang: “Listen, A’Ze. If you sell this lie well, he’ll dodge tons of trouble. He bought a new place, he’s dating—key points. Makes him seem pressured into marriage. His dates don’t overlap with work, so no risk. Just hint to the boss, keep coworkers out of it. She’ll pity you two star-crossed lovers…”
Lin Ze was floored. Zhao Yuhang added, “Otherwise, if he rejects her but keeps dating, his work life will sour. Even if she acts fine, she’ll resent it. Zheng Jie’ll always wonder if his promotion was due to her. Over time, it’ll wreck his career and marriage.”
“But if he’s ‘gay’?” Zhao Yuhang said. “Problem solved. The boss will drop romantic thoughts, treat him as a confidant or little brother. All troubles vanish!”
Lin Ze: “Isn’t this deceitful?!”
Zhao Yuhang: “Then just date him for real!”
Lin Ze: “Change the topic. Your logic’s always bizarre…”
Zhao Yuhang: “Think about it. Makes sense, right?”
Lin Ze was torn between irritation and amusement. Talking to Zhao Yuhang always left him charmed. They discussed Ke Maoguo’s recent rise, military factions… Men could ramble for hours about politics and global affairs—Lin Ze included. An hour later, having dissected world events to satisfaction, they hung up. Lin Ze checked the time—he’d wasted the whole afternoon at Starbucks.
A message popped up on his iPad.
Hong: [Dreamcloud Marsh, I saw you at Starbucks again.]
Lin Ze looked up, scanning the room, then checked the timestamp—sent at 2 p.m.
Dreamcloud Marsh: [Where are you now?]
Hong: [At work. What were you doing this afternoon? Friends?]
Dreamcloud Marsh: [Colleagues. Was bored, so we ‘office picnicked.’ Do you often pass by Bei Cheng Tian Street?]
Hong: [Sometimes. But you haven’t been out much lately. Haven’t seen you in ages.]
Dreamcloud Marsh: [Yeah. This Starbucks holds special memories—met my last two boyfriends here. Avoided it for a while because it brought back too much. But today, I decided to be more positive.]
Hong: [Haha, finding love at Bei Cheng Tian Street? Then we’re fated. But you wouldn’t like me—I’m ugly and skinny.]
Lin Ze was stumped. He’d never met someone so blunt.
Dreamcloud Marsh: [Even the handsomest age. Looks aren’t capital—they’re baggage.]
Hong: [True. But attraction to beauty is instinct.]
Dreamcloud Marsh: [Aren’t humans human because we rise above instinct?]
Hong: [Fine, you win. Just answer this: Would you date someone ugly?]
Lin Ze smiled. No answer would satisfy—Hong already had his own. Instead, he asked:
Dreamcloud Marsh: [Are you sick? Why so thin?]
Hong: [Stomach issues. Frequent bleeding. Not AIDS, but my mindset might as well be.]
Dreamcloud Marsh: [Skipping meals? Take care. Why not meet for dinner?]
Hong: [Thanks. Maybe later.]
Zheng Jie texted: Reserved a table at Shangjing for buffet. Lin Ze put away his iPad, ready to stir trouble for Zheng Jie.
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