Sheng Jingchu didn’t mind either way. Uncle Cheng donned an apron and thoughtfully turned on the TV before heading to the kitchen. CCTV was broadcasting "Boonie Bears," with the two bears plotting how to mess with Logger Vick.
Uncle Cheng was quick in the kitchen, soon bringing out two dishes: jellyfish skin with fish skin and steamed shrimp with Japanese tofu.
The jellyfish skin with fish skin was likely the "Contending for the World" dish—white jellyfish skin paired with black fish skin, symbolizing the black and white stones in Go. It made sense. The "King of Showa," being a Japanese dish, was aptly represented by steamed shrimp with Japanese tofu.
Sheng Jingchu was intrigued by Uncle Cheng's ability to connect the dishes to Go. Pointing at the menu, he asked, "What about these?"
"The 'Battle of Tianyuan' is spicy chicken hearts, 'Go Sage in Hand' is braised duck feet, and 'Fame Across the World' is chicken stewed with chili peppers."
Uncle Cheng wiped his hands on his apron, then scooped a bowl of rice for Sheng Jingchu from the rice cooker. As he did, he glanced at the TV, watching the cartoon with great interest. He turned back to Sheng Jingchu, encouraging him, "Eat up, try my 'Contending for the World.'"
Sheng Jingchu removed his mask and picked up his chopsticks, separating the jellyfish skin from the fish skin on the plate, which was arranged like two opposing armies, black and white, clearly defined.
He started with the jellyfish skin, which had a slight numbing sensation on the tongue, followed by a sweet and sour aftertaste, and finally a hint of saltiness after swallowing.
After finishing all the jellyfish skin, he moved on to the fish skin, which was crispy and slick, almost bursting with sauce when bitten into.
Uncle Cheng couldn’t shake the feeling that Sheng Jingchu looked familiar. He enthusiastically recommended the steamed shrimp with Japanese tofu.
"This dish is tender. Eat it while it's hot."
As Uncle Cheng spoke, Sheng Jingchu paused to listen, giving the impression of someone who was eager to follow good advice. But after Uncle Cheng finished, Sheng Jingchu continued to eat the fish skin, not moving on to the shrimp until he had cleaned the plate.
The shrimp had been deveined, with the back slit open, and was steamed to perfection. Sheng Jingchu ate all the shrimp before tasting the Japanese tofu, which was so tender that a single breath could make it crumble.
Uncle Cheng handed him a spoon, disapproving of Sheng Jingchu's method of eating. "You can't eat like that. You need to combine the flavors to get the best taste. Eat some rice—just eating the dishes is too salty."
Sheng Jingchu thanked him for the spoon. "I’m used to it." After a pause, he looked at Uncle Cheng, who was hovering nearby. "Is there something else you need?"
Uncle Cheng waved his hand dismissively. "No, no. You eat, you eat."
Uncle Cheng pulled up a stool by the door and continued scrolling on his phone. He first checked Weibo, found no comments, and moved on. Then he browsed through his Moments and liked a post his cousin had shared titled “Jack Ma’s Ten Pieces of Advice.”
As he did so, Uncle Cheng couldn’t help but think how strange this customer’s habits were—finishing all the dishes before even starting on the rice, eating each bite so methodically. What could possibly be enjoyable about that?
When it came time to pay, Uncle Cheng asked Sheng Jingchu, "Do you have a Weibo account?"
"I do."
"Great, then. Let's follow each other." Uncle Cheng handed his phone to Sheng Jingchu. "This is my Weibo name. Follow me, and I’ll give you a 20% discount."
Uncle Cheng looked at him and added, "The 20% discount applies every time you come, not just today."
Sheng Jingchu usually only used Weibo to check private messages, where fellow Go players would discuss game strategies with him. He opened the app, typed in Uncle Cheng's name, "Cheng Shushu Meng Po Tian Ji," and clicked follow.
“Ding!”
Uncle Cheng received the follow notification and immediately followed back. When he saw Sheng Jingchu’s username, he realized that this was the same person he’d seen on the sports news earlier that day—Sheng Jingchu.
A big influencer!
Uncle Cheng was overjoyed. His biggest dream was to reach over ten thousand followers on Weibo. To achieve this, he had given out countless 20% discounts. But the kids from the Go academy would follow him, only to unfollow shortly after, sending someone to pick up their takeout orders instead.
Worried that Sheng Jingchu might also unfollow him, Uncle Cheng refused to accept payment. "Consider this first meal a free trial."
Sheng Jingchu didn’t insist, picked up his paper bag, and took his leave.
A celebrity…
Uncle Cheng slapped his forehead, regretting that he hadn’t asked Sheng Jingchu to share one of his posts. Just imagine how many comments, shares, and likes that would have brought!
The more he thought about it, the more he regretted it. He only noticed the paper bill left under the empty plate after Sheng Jingchu had gone.
Uncle Cheng quickly checked his phone, relieved to see that Sheng Jingchu hadn’t unfollowed him.
Cheng Liao lived in Sweetwater Alley in the city center, where many residential buildings still retained the architectural style of the late Qing dynasty. The residents had long been prepared for demolition, adding extra floors in anticipation. However, negotiations with the developers always fell through, and the compensation terms were never agreed upon.
The self-built small buildings were all rented out, and in this small area, migrant worker couples, newly graduated white-collar workers, elderly empty-nesters, and overseas Chinese returning to their roots all lived together in a noisy, bustling mix of southern and northern dialects.
As soon as she entered, Cheng Yi was chasing after their youngest cousin, Cheng Nuo. Cheng Nuo was in his second year of high school, and recently, under Cheng Yi’s pressure, had deleted all his games—he couldn’t even keep "Defend Carrot" on his phone.
Their grandmother was pulled in by Cheng Nuo to shield him from the scolding.
The old lady, used to smoothing things over, said, "Just go easy on him."
Cheng Yi, hands on her hips and wielding a feather duster, fumed, "Just look at how he answered the geography questions. They asked about the eight countries bordering Xinjiang, and he couldn't name seven of them. The only one he got right was 'Einstein'!"
The more she thought about it, the angrier she got. She dodged around their grandmother and gave Cheng Nuo a good whack with the duster.
"At least if you're going to guess, guess something reasonable. Einstein? Are you serious? Why not just say 'Nobel'?"
Cheng Nuo rubbed his forehead. "I'm not that dumb. Nobel was an author."
Cheng Yi was too exasperated to continue the argument. She tossed the feather duster aside and turned to look at Cheng Liao.
"What's wrong? You seem upset."
Cheng Liao didn’t say anything and went straight to her room.
Her mother had passed away early, and when she was four, she and her father had moved in with her grandmother. Her eldest uncle and aunt had moved out long ago, and in recent years, Cheng Yi had also been living with their grandmother since it was closer to her workplace. Their third uncle’s family had always lived with their grandmother, so the small courtyard was crowded with six or seven people.
Cheng Yi pushed the door open and came in. She worked in human resources at a gaming company, where she kept a close watch on dozens of employees during the day. After work, she maintained the same level of oversight at home.
"Women usually feel down for a few reasons," Cheng Yi said, glancing at Cheng Liao’s expression. "They see a bag they love on Taobao, but their Alipay balance is empty."
Cheng Liao lay on her bed, grabbed a stuffed monkey, and covered her ears with it.
"Or they've been constipated for several days, and it’s making them irritable," Cheng Yi continued. "Or maybe their man has run off with another woman, and they’re grinding their teeth in anger at the other woman."
That last comment reminded Cheng Liao of Xu Chi. She had wanted to talk about it but felt she didn’t have the right to—after all, she hadn’t even confessed before being dumped. While it was certainly worth brooding over, her primary concern was her job, which she might lose. She had no time to dwell on romantic woes.
She threw the monkey aside and sighed. "You have no idea how frustrating today was."
The team leader had called her in and asked if she had a Weibo account. When she said no, he told her to create one and to use it to publicly display affection as Sheng Jingchu's girlfriend, leveraging the current media buzz to promote the company’s program.
Show Era, the company she worked for, had just been established and was trying every possible means to increase its visibility. Her little misunderstanding had given the team leader a great idea for a publicity stunt.
Without hesitation, Cheng Liao refused. A person needs to have principles, and she couldn’t bring herself to exploit someone for publicity.
The team leader had looked at her expressionlessly. "Cheng Liao, I remember you're about to graduate, right?"
She immediately understood the implication. She had been interning there since her senior year of college, and with graduation approaching, she was on track for a full-time position. But if she didn’t cooperate with the publicity stunt, that full-time job would be out of reach.
Work or dignity—her mind wavered between the two. She explained the situation to Cheng Yi and asked, "What should I do?"
Cheng Yi knew her too well; Cheng Liao always had these inexplicable little stances she stubbornly held onto. Seeing that her job was in jeopardy, Cheng Yi opened the Zhaopin recruitment website. "I think you should start sending out resumes."
Cheng Liao sat up on the bed.
"Should I just write my resignation letter tonight?"
She logged into the company’s OA system as she spoke, her fingers hovering over the keyboard for a long time before she decided against typing anything. She looked at Cheng Yi with pleading eyes. "You know, I've always dreamed of making something of myself."
"The Oprah of China stumbling in her first job," Cheng Liao sighed deeply as she entered her username and password. "What a huge loss for China’s 1.3 billion people. I feel like I’ve let down the people, let down the Party."
"On behalf of the Party and the people, thank you," Cheng Yi said, tapping Cheng Liao on the forehead. "You’re a classic case of aiming too high but achieving too little."
Cheng Liao grinned, cupping her face. "Are your hands higher than your eyes? Or are you just raising them for no reason?"
Cheng Liao’s quick wit was inherited from her mother’s side, and Cheng Yi was too lazy to argue further. She switched the topic instead.
"Have you considered what you would do if you were the team leader? Just drop the publicity stunt because an employee won’t cooperate? Not likely. The team leader could easily create a Weibo account in your name. How would you explain it then? Claim it wasn’t you? Aren’t you an employee of Show Era? You wouldn’t be able to clear your name even if you jumped into the Yellow River."
Cheng Liao had to admit this was possible. She closed the OA system and opened Weibo.
"Should I preemptively register an account?"
Cheng Yi smacked her forehead. "I haven’t even liked Second Uncle’s post today."
Ever since hearing about a girl who became famous online just for drinking bubble tea, Cheng Liao’s father had been posting endless photos of her on his Weibo—photos of her with coffee, Coke, water, from every possible angle. He had even assigned the whole family the task of commenting, sharing, and liking his posts every day.
Cheng Liao had once had a Weibo account but deleted it because she couldn’t stand her father’s endless daughter-showcasing.
When Cheng Yi opened Second Uncle’s Weibo, she froze, then poked Cheng Liao. "Am I seeing things?"
Their father’s Weibo usually had at most a dozen comments, most of them from family members like Cheng Yi, her mom, her dad, her third uncle, her third aunt, Cheng Nuo, and even their grandmother, whom their father had taught to use a smartphone just to comment and like his posts.
But today, his latest post had over 20,000 comments and nearly 100,000 shares.
Cheng Yi was baffled. "Did Second Uncle get hacked?"
As they spoke, their father returned home, holding his phone aloft, so excited he was almost singing. "Daughter, you’re famous now! Guess who followed me on Weibo today? Sheng Jingchu!"
As they watched the comment count climb steadily on the Weibo app, their father squeezed onto the couch, nudging Cheng Liao aside.
"My phone’s frozen. Let me use the computer."
"Even if Sheng Jingchu followed you, why would that excite everyone so much?" Cheng Yi was puzzled and clicked into Sheng Jingchu’s Weibo. When she saw it, she looked at Cheng Liao, dumbfounded. "You’re really famous now."
"What?" Cheng Liao had a sinking feeling when she heard that Sheng Jingchu had followed her father on Weibo, suspecting nothing good could come of it. She leaned over to look at Cheng Yi’s phone screen and instantly felt disheartened. "He followed only my dad?"
Indeed, Sheng Jingchu had originally followed no one, and when that number suddenly became "1," it shocked everyone. When people clicked on the account and saw that it was full of pictures of the same girl, who happened to be the mysterious girlfriend exposed in today’s news...
Speculation was inevitable.
The comments under Cheng’s father’s Weibo were now uniformly addressed to "Father-in-law."
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