Chapter 5: Du Yu

As soon as Zhou Zhuofei entered the residential complex, she collided head-on with Cen Huan, who was hurrying by with a backpack. Zhou greeted her casually, asking, “Where are you off to at this hour?”

Cen sighed helplessly. “A colleague is sick, so the manager asked me to cover their shift.”

“That’s really unlucky,” Zhou empathized instantly. “But your place is so far from the hotel—why didn’t the manager ask someone who lives closer?”

Though she didn’t know the exact location of Cen’s workplace, Zhou recalled hearing that Cen spent a long time commuting by bike every day.

“The manager...” Cen hesitated, unwilling to speak ill of him despite feeling the arrangement was unreasonable. “Maybe it’s because there’s a very important banquet tonight, so they need an experienced senior employee.”

Zhou could only express sympathy again. “Work really isn’t easy. You’d better get going.”

“I’m off then. Bye.”

After seeing Cen off, Zhou mused on how difficult the service industry must be. Fortunately, her own job at Universal wasn’t as troublesome.

But after a few steps, something felt off. Why did this scenario seem so familiar? It was almost like the beginning of this story was about Cen being suddenly called to serve at a banquet.

She hurried home, retrieved the notebook where she had recorded her dreams, and flipped through it.

Zhou had already regretted more than once not taking those dreams seriously enough to write everything down immediately. By the time she realized something was wrong and tried to record the details, some had already slipped from her memory.

The notebook only noted that Cen would meet Ling Yu at the banquet, then Cen would start working at a bar, and her next encounter with Ling Yu would be a month later.

What happened in between... Zhou tried to recall but couldn’t, not even from three years ago, let alone now when she was worn down by work.

After several failed attempts, she gave up, thinking—what good would knowing so much do? She wasn’t the type to scheme or seize opportunities to climb upward.

If she had that ambition, she wouldn’t still be just neighbors with Cen.

Besides, after three years, her enthusiasm for gossip had long since faded. Moreover, there were plenty of dramatic events at work to observe; she didn’t have to fixate on this one.

So, Zhou’s current mindset was to take things as they came—if she encountered something interesting, she’d watch, but she absolutely wouldn’t invite trouble upon herself.

She decisively put down the notebook and turned to play with the cat, though her mind couldn’t help but dwell on the matter.

In fact, she could have asked Xiao Wang in the afternoon, since Ling Yu always brought him along to events, but she hadn’t thought much of it at the time—and an accident had distracted her further.

The scenes she witnessed that afternoon were so striking that even while gaming later, she found herself comparing the athletic builds of characters to Xiao Wang’s physique.

Her final conclusion was this: the game models were perfect, but the real thing offline was even more impressive. How could digital creations compare to carbon-based lifeforms?

While Zhou was battling fiercely in the game, Cen was weaving through guests with a tray in hand. Whenever serving at a banquet, she had to be fully alert, eyes scanning all directions, ears listening for everything.

But she was utterly exhausted—she hadn’t rested well the day before, rushed to her post this morning, barely catching her breath before changing into her uniform.

As for the nature of the banquet and the identities of the guests, she neither knew nor cared.

Her mind was preoccupied with practical worries: the refrigerator at home wasn’t cooling well, and after deducting debts and basic expenses from next month’s salary, would there be enough left to pay for repairs?

If not, she’d have to clear out the fridge quickly. Though she knew Zhou would gladly help if she asked, Cen didn’t want to trouble anyone.

Lost in thought, she failed to notice a figure approaching diagonally across from her.

By the time she registered the movement, it was too late...

The next day, Zhou arrived at the company and planned to assign some tasks to Zhan Zilang, so he wouldn’t be bored and playing Minesweeper all day.

She noticed Zhan had changed clothes and swapped his watch to match, carrying a large bag.

“Good morning, Sister Zhou!” he greeted cheerfully, pulling things out from his oversized shopping bag.

There were keyboards, mice, mouse pads... soon the desk was piled with various computer accessories.

Seeing Zhou’s surprised expression, Zhan explained, “I thought, since I’m changing the keyboard, wouldn’t it be awkward if the mouse felt bad? So I might as well replace everything…”

He paused, then asked, “Is that okay with you?”

“No problem. Just hand these over to the colleague who collected stuff yesterday. Now get yourself sorted—I have some work to assign you later.”

“Got it.”

Zhan swiftly began switching his gear. Many colleagues, attracted by the accessories, gathered to ask about them. He generously shared his experiences.

Despite being almost strangers, he showed no hesitation, behaving confidently and naturally.

Zhou envied that relaxed ease. Though she could manage the same now, her first days at the company had been nowhere near as poised as Zhan’s.

Returning to her computer, Zhou saw a message from her friend Du Yu inviting her to lunch together.

Du’s work often took her out, so she frequently suggested meeting at Universal for meals.

Zhou gladly accepted and told Zhan to join Ye Ru for lunch, confident from his morning demeanor that he wouldn’t be shy or awkward.

Zhou went to a familiar nearby restaurant where Du was already waiting.

After the usual greetings, Du couldn’t wait to show Zhou something on her phone while they waited for their food.

“What is it? Another update from your favorite author?” Zhou asked, taking the phone.

It was a photo of a young man wearing an exaggerated mask, only his eyes visible.

“What kind of cosplay is this?”

“Not really cosplay, just his personal style photos.”

Zhou noticed Du’s bright smile and sensed something unusual.

“Who is he? What’s going on?”

“Hehe...” Du blushed slightly, “We just started dating recently, and you’re the first to know.”

“Oh!!”

Zhou scrutinized the pictures further; although backgrounds varied, each showed the man wearing masks or face coverings, creating a cool, mysterious vibe.

“Still a masked type, huh?” Zhou handed the phone back, curious. “How did you two meet?”

“At an expo two months ago. He’s quite famous in the community.”

“Oh~ Any photos without the mask? You can’t tell what he looks like at all.”

“He doesn’t take many casual photos. Next time I’ll bring him along for you to see.” Du winked confidently. “But you have to trust my taste—I never date ugly guys.”

“Haha, that’s true. I have a lot of faith in your judgment.”

Du had a striking, glamorous look and often cosplayed mature, elegant characters in college, which had completely captivated Zhou back then.

Her standards for her boyfriend’s appearance had always been high. Her previous boyfriends were all uniquely handsome, making the couples visually stunning.

“Don’t just have faith in me—what about you? You’ve been single for over three years now, right?”

Zhou corrected her smoothly, “Four years.”

Du rolled her eyes. “You remember that pretty clearly?”

“Of course. A breakup is a big event—I remember it well,” Zhou said calmly, sipping her water. “Honestly, I should probably celebrate its anniversary.”