Distress 1-4

page views:1 Publication date:2023-06-11 14:06:54

1.
To whom can I confide my troubles?
As dusk fell, the sky was dark. I walked out of the Southern Bookstore, and before I even reached the main street, a taxi
suddenly stopped in front of me.
I hesitated for a moment, then finally got in. This winter was exceptionally
cold. The taxi drove along Guangwei Road, sped past Guangfu South Road, and was about to approach the traffic light intersection near Zhonghua Street. The air outside was dry and stale, as if it had been washed clean. Through the car window, I felt
the bitterness and hardship of a year of struggling in this unfamiliar city, sitting in the back seat with a heavy heart. "People from other places have all gone home for the New Year," the once bustling Southern City was now deserted,
the streets sparsely populated.
The driver, perhaps in a particularly good mood because of the empty roads, had been
speeding , and kept rambling on and on. I felt a little awkward responding. If I completely pretended not to hear, it would be somewhat impolite. In front of strangers, I behaved very politely and courteously, completely unlike
the frustrated and angry person I had been treated badly at the Southern Book Fair. The driver's conversation was getting more and more heated, and my patience was nearing its limit. Just as I was about to utter a harsh word,
the driver himself took over the conversation, saying self-deprecatingly, "Speaking of which, I'm actually from out of town myself. Seeing so many people from other places going back to their hometowns, I also miss my family.
"

A bitter smile appeared on my face. I had no mood to talk to the driver anymore. Just thinking about what happened at the Southern Book Fair made me feel nauseous. Half an hour ago, I couldn't stand that tall, skinny guy's arrogant and aggressive
speech .
Perhaps it was youthful impetuosity, but I couldn't stand it and immediately stood up, calling him a "clown." Was he hired by monkeys to entertain everyone?

Without a doubt, I knew I'd soon be found out that I'd been freeloading without an invitation. He made a big deal out of it, and not only was I kicked out and humiliated, but he also verbally abused me with several offensive remarks, all revolving around women. This reminded me of Lu Xun's classic essay, "On 'Damn It,'" which can be considered a "national curse.
"
Lu Xun said, "I grew up in eastern Zhejiang, what Mr. Xi Ying called 'a certain place.' The common
'national curse' there was quite simple: it was limited to 'mother,' never involving anyone else. Later, after traveling to various places, I was amazed by the vastness and subtlety of the national curse: tracing back to ancestors, involving sisters, passing down to descendants, and extending to the same sex, it's
truly 'like the Milky Way, without end.' Moreover, it's not only used on humans, but also on animals." "
Chinese people become enraged when words like 'insulting family' and 'ancestors' are mentioned, as if it were a real
incident. Naturally, they become short-tempered and threaten to fight back. I was so naive that I played the recording of the person who insulted me repeatedly in the lobby over such a trivial matter.
He was naturally pleased with this glorious feat. As a result, I was reprimanded by him on the spot.
2 My thoughts eventually drifted back to the present. The driver was still the same as when I first got in the car
— never stopping talking about his hometown far away in a foreign land. I was incredibly annoyed. Home, what is
home? Does one not have a family without a woman? I hate the word 'family' so much. The thought that I am already twenty-seven years old and have
achieved nothing , working hard for five years but still not having a hundred thousand in savings, makes me feel
hopeless about my future."
Since graduating from university, my mother has suddenly changed. She's constantly pressuring me to get married
, which I don't understand. She wouldn't let me date while I was in school, but as soon as I graduated, she couldn't wait to ask me about marriage. Where did she find a woman to marry? Even if it's going to rain, it has to be cloudy. There weren't any cloudy days, but the thunder was constant, and it's been going on for five years
. Just then, the phone rang. I picked it up, saw the caller ID, and felt annoyed. Putting aside the resentment I'd
just felt, and the driver's nagging, I didn't know how to deal with my current situation. For five years, every
year-end has been the time for matchmakers to be out and about, the best season for them to do business with unmarried women. In my province, almost every year-end, matchmakers and older women would meet up, mutually benefiting
, and together they'd go to the man's house, exchange a few words, and leave. The red envelopes were usually three or four hundred yuan, not including the cost of going out for dinner.
Finally, I answered the phone. As soon as it connected, an anxious voice came through, "Son
, have you arrived yet?
"
"Mom, I'm on my way," I said.
"That's good. Don't lie to me, Mom's getting old, I'm doing this for your own good. I know you
're still angry about what happened six months ago."
Hearing this, I started to get impatient, quickly said a few more words, and hung up. Six months ago, haha, I laughed out loud
. The driver was drawn by my laughter. He stopped and chatted casually, saying, "Actually, your mother is just
looking out for you. You're a grown woman now; if you don't think about yourself, you should at least think about your family.
"
I hate that cliché lecture. I ignored him and looked out the window at the scenery, which remained unchanged. The streets were still sparsely populated, and several commercial areas had closed early. The neon lights
flickered on without me noticing. I checked my phone; it was almost six o'clock. Night had fallen. Winter nights come so quickly in this southern city. The driver stopped at a famous restaurant in the southern city called Youyuan Renjia and said to me, "One hundred and fifty yuan, Cheng Hui.

" He then gave me a harmless smile. I was startled and blurted out,
"Holy crap, so much!"
The driver's smile vanished instantly, freezing into a stern expression as he pointed to the fare indicator and said seriously
, "Look at how many kilometers we've traveled. Think about how you got on at Zhuying and came here at Tianhe Road. Leaving aside fuel costs and such, the distance alone is worth this price. And besides, I didn't take you on any wrong turns; I
followed . I can't lie."
The driver explained as he watched me reluctantly take out my phone to scan the code and confirm the payment before
smiling and turning away. I remained seated, straightened up slightly, and asked him for the receipt. The driver was quite straightforward, handing it to me with a smile, saying, "I'm so sorry, you have excellent taste to come here
to eat. I drive hundreds of customers every year, but I've never been inside before, I can only watch from the outside, haha.
" I didn't say much, quickly got out of the car, and headed straight for the Youyuan Restaurant. I didn't know
what kind of girl my mother and her family had brought me, and I felt tense all over again, even more uncomfortable than when I deliberately embarrassed someone before. Everywhere I looked was ornately decorated, and the spacious ceiling in the lobby was adorned with a crystal lamp.
The large chandelier reminded me of an unpleasant blind date I had a few months ago, or more precisely, half a year ago. It was here again, with the same crystal chandelier, and she and I were on the third floor near the balcony
, watching the bustling pedestrians below, a lively scene, but I was indifferent.
I wanted to leave, but stopped in front of the elevator. Just then, my phone rang again.
That annoying barrage of calls. No doubt, it was my mother calling. She was afraid I'd stand her up
, but I hate being rushed. I had to answer, forcing a smile, and said into the phone, "Mom, I'm almost there. Waiting for the elevator in the lobby."
"So quick?" my mother said. "We just got here too. No rush."
"Is it the third floor?" I asked.
"You silly child, didn't I just tell you and you forgot again
? Yes, it's the third floor, remember that." My mother's cheerful laughter and conversation came through the phone, and I could vaguely hear her talking to an unfamiliar woman.
"Okay, I got it, I'll hang up now, the elevator doors are open." I saw
an elevator in the left-hand corridor of the lobby just opening, quickly hung up the phone, and rushed inside. In the elevator, I held my breath, wondering who this woman my mother had chosen was, but regardless, I couldn't forget the
arrogant attitude of that woman from six months ago. I must say, in my life experience, she truly made me nauseous towards women.
Three and
a half years ago, under my parents' strong insistence, I followed their arrangement and met her at a famous
restaurant in the city. There was no matchmaker present, no parents. Only the unfamiliar her, and the unfamiliar environment. The woman was dressed very alluringly. As soon as she sat down, she ordered something to drink from the waiter and also ordered
from the menu .
Then she leisurely admired her surroundings, her eyes finally returning to the table without looking up.
Only when the dishes arrived did she casually say, "Don't be shy, I've been starving, just waiting for this meal."
Her words made me frown. Was she trying to take advantage of me? Was I that stupid? Was it
that obvious? I suppressed my displeasure, showing no anger on my face. I picked up
my chopsticks, ready to grab the pickled fish dish, when she, without looking up, began her incessant performance, chewing her food.
The girl said, "Let me be clear from the start
. Do you own a house and a car? If not, let's not talk anymore. Let's part amicably after this meal. It's a case of being destined to meet but not to be together. I know you might
think I'm just trying to freeload, but don't worry, let me finish. Today, I'm giving your aunt some face
by coming out to have a meal with you." We're all civilized people, we should act civilizedly. Don't you agree? I wholeheartedly agree, putting down my chopsticks and saying, "Of course I agree
. I'm just like you, I hate arguing or getting physical in these kinds of situations, it feels a bit undignified." Woman: Good, it's really great that you have this awareness. In all the blind dates I've been on over the years, you're the first one I've met.

Me: Thank you for the compliment. Since you're so straightforward, I can't be too hypocritical. I hope you won't mind
my bluntness.
Woman: Of course not
. By the way, you haven't told me you own a house and a car yet? Me: I own a house and a car, but are you a virgin
? Woman: (Pfft, spitting out a mouthful of food, pretending to be reserved, but actually her face darkened, though quickly vanished
.) Ugh, you start with this!
What does this have to do with whether I'm a virgin or not? Me: Hold on, let me finish. Even if I don't have a house or a car now (empty promises, the kind men love most), I will in the future. But if you're not a virgin now, will you have one in the future?

Woman: I used to be. If you want it, I definitely will in the future
. Me: Do you mean hymenoplasty
? Woman: We're all civilized people, can we not say such disgusting things here
? Me:
Okay. To put it another way, if I used to have a house and a car, but now my business has failed and I've lost everything, would you be willing to help me through this difficult time and rebuild our lives?
Woman: You don't have a house or a car now, only a fool would marry you
! Me: What does it matter to me if you were a virgin in the past
? Even if you have hymenoplasty in the future, it's not original. I won't get your first time, so why do you demand so much from me?
Woman: If you love me, you should love me as a person, not my hymen.
Me: If you love me too, you should love me as a person, not just my car and house.
Woman: Why should some women with cars and houses at home have to lower their standard of living after marrying you?
Me: Are asking for a car and a house your
bargaining chips for marriage? Woman:
That's right . Let me tell you frankly, if you don't want a woman to ask for a car and a house, don't expect her to have your child. Women aren't stupid; she'll suffer with you and raise your child, why should she?
Me: Don't you have a share in the child?
Oh. Me: Then I understand what you mean. So having a child is your reason for wanting a house, a car, and savings, just because you lost a piece of your flesh and feel like you're at a disadvantage.

Woman: Is there a problem?
Me: No, I'm just curious what it's like when women are unreasonable.
Woman: Are you a virgin
? Me: No.
Woman: Then what gives you the right to demand that I be
a virgin? Me: Do you own a house and a car
?

Me: Then why do you demand that I own a house and
a car? Woman: Men and women are different. You are a man, so you must provide a house and
a car!
Me: Yes, men and women are different. Even if I'm not a virgin, you must be a virgin. Woman: You—you're so shameless! You're a man, you should have the responsibility of a man, not
care about that hymen.

Me: How am I shameless?
Woman: Is it something a man should say to a woman about virginity? Men should value
a woman 's inner beauty—such as thoughtfulness, gentleness, and kindness. Me: Hmm, do you think you possess
any of those qualities? (Seeing her expression change, I immediately change the subject) Okay, let's go back to our previous topic. I understand what you mean by owning a car and a house; it's human nature and a
necessary result of social development.
Woman: It's so good that you say that. I feel very comforted to hear such a sensible man speak to me.
Me: Let me
finish . Woman: Uh,
go ahead. Me: But while constantly emphasizing men's obligations and women's rights, we often overlook one point: men's
rights and women's obligations, which is what you call being considerate, gentle, and kind.
Woman: What about men's rights
? Me: That's hard
to say. It's a little embarrassing. Woman: What are you afraid of? Just
tell me. Me: For example, if a girl has money, a poor boy might not pursue
her.
Woman: Of course, it's a matter of social status. So this is what you mean by embarrassing. Me: That's not what I meant. I mean, when a boy realizes he's poor, the girl hasn't realized she's "dirty
."
Woman: Huh? How
so? Me: They want a lot, but the goods aren't fresh, and their temperament is poor. Most importantly, they're older
.
And their tongues have a lot of other men's bodily fluids, and their vaginas are loose. But when a man takes them on, they still act like they can't have enough, demanding houses, cars, bank cards, etc., and they also demand that the other party not
mind that they're not a virgin. Woman: You're
shameless ! You bastard! (After saying this, she splashed the water in her glass at me, her chest filled with anger) Is taking the bus the same price as buying a bus ticket?

Woman: What, are you going to hit me
? Me: No, I was thinking what you said earlier was quite right. There's a price
difference between taking the bus and buying a bus ticket. Woman: What do you
mean?
You mean...?
Damn it!
Me: Didn't we agree before that we're all civilized people, that we should act civilizedly and not throw
a tantrum ? Woman: Which eye of yours saw me as uncivilized
? Me: Didn't you just insult me
?
Woman: Are you even human? (Vents out and tries to leave)

Me: Wait? Come back, come back. I want to ask you, you're trying to leave before paying the bill? Woman: Are you even a man
?
Me: Whether I'm a man or not is none of your business. But you clearly didn't treat me like a human being. Since I
'm not human in your eyes, I won't bother to annoy you, try to reason with you, or contradict your logic—that would be disrespectful. So naturally, you'll pay for this meal. Aren't I a gentleman?

Shame on you! No wonder no woman wants to marry you. Me: You don't need to worry about that. You should worry about yourself. To be honest, this meal was quite expensive; I didn't even eat a bite. It's a shame.
But I'm not one to be heartless, so I'll pay for your tea
. No need to thank me. It's just a drop in the ocean, but you deserve it, haha. The woman stomped her foot angrily and left, not forgetting to vent before she went, trying to shift the blame
onto . I slumped into my chair, wanting to pick up my chopsticks again, but put them down in the end. What a pity! I'd rather die than be
humiliated. If I eat even one bite, I'm not Chen.
4.
The elevator doors opened with a ding, and I returned to reality, walking out.
I walked through the corridor
and met a waitress who led me to my destination. With her directions, I quickly found it,
pushed open the door, and lo and behold, it was her. The woman was also surprised, blurting out, "It's you
!" I
nodded . My mother, thinking we knew each other, suddenly agreed, then smiled knowingly. The matchmaker winked at my mother
, which made me both laugh and cry.

The story of how I met her is a real joke. I hurried to my mother's side, pulled out a chair, and sat down.
I observed the proper etiquette, greeting the matchmaker and the woman while pouring them tea. My mother and I were seated last.
Sipping my tea, I subtly observed everyone present. There were only four people, including myself—a
very simple arrangement.
At this table for six, the matchmaker sat on the left, the woman a little to the left, and my mother and I
sat opposite them. To be honest, when I saw them chatting and laughing before I entered, my eyes immediately fell on her. Her
face lit up instantly: "I didn't expect it to be you!
" she exclaimed, instantly relaxing and no longer reserved. My
mother whispered in my ear, "Do you two
know each other?"
I nodded and said, "More than just know each other, we're practically best acquaintances." As soon as the words left my mouth, I regretted them
. How could those words sound so frivolous? But thinking about it, it wasn't wrong. The matchmaker's name was Li Chunyan. She looked to be in her forties, with high cheekbones and a thin face. You couldn't judge a book by its cover; she seemed very shrewd. Upon hearing my words to my mother, she
proactively smiled and said, "That's good. It's good to get to know each other. That's just how blind dates are."
I didn't know how to respond, but she was quite talkative, calling me by my first name, saying, "Flame
, don't blame Aunt Li for calling you that, it's okay. As an elder, I'm truly doing this for your own good. As your mother's good friend, I naturally care about your affairs. I've heard from your mother that someone your age should be
married ; however, times have changed. Many young people now like to delay, dragging it out until their thirties,
and some don't even want to get married. I'm not saying this to pressure you. No matter how busy you are with work, you should still date. I hope you won't blame me for being nosy." "

How could that be, Aunt Li? You're only doing
this for my own good. Flame, aside from everything else, is inherently kind, though sometimes stubborn. As a mother, I sometimes worry myself sick.

I lowered my head, my voice softening, and said, 'Mom, that's enough, don't say anymore. People are making fun of us.' My mother, seeing that things were going well, instead took the initiative to ask about the girl. Although they had talked before, it was clearly
intentional, especially regarding how I met her.
I knew this without her saying it; she was practically a professional red envelope collector, always looking for red envelopes
.
Several times we'd been caught red-handed using blind dates as a pretext to ask for red envelopes." Here's what happened: My friend went on about ten blind dates last year. He finally met someone suitable
and developed a slight liking for her. But the next evening, when he went to her friend's house, his friend told him, "Someone's having a blind date that night, so I need your help."
Turns out, the girl was the very one he'd been on the previous night.
To be honest, the girl was quite embarrassed and told him on WeChat, "I never expected it to be your friend
." Then my friend asked her, "Are you a professional at getting red envelopes (bribes) and professional at casting a net
to raise fish ?" Hearing this, she was clearly unhappy and immediately launched into a tirade against him on WeChat, then blocked him. But even after blocking,
she could still receive messages, so she came up with a clever trick: block and then delete him as a friend.
Later, my friend, still furious,
posted about her on his WeChat Moments, and from then on, she became infamous. This became a laughing stock in my area. While she was talking to her mother, I was watching her closely and realized she was quite pretty
. How could she do something like that? I can't believe it.
"Don't dwell on things you already know." She's not only pretty, but also very straightforward; otherwise, she wouldn't admit it so readily when others mention it. It's this quality that makes my mother look at her with new respect.
My mother has seen countless people; even the most wicked and eccentric characters reveal their true colors in her presence
. This girl before me, so sincere and frank, even sharing her past, leaves me unsure how to react. Compared to her usual heavy makeup, she's dressed very simply this time. Her long, flowing hair is almost too black, undyed and unpermed, and she doesn't even have pierced ears. Combined with her simple, fresh, and charming outfit,
she exudes a quiet and obedient aura, all of which pleases my mother.

During our conversation, my mother complimented her outfit: a deep red tracksuit collar that subtly reveals a
dark blue jacket.
You can sense the youthful energy and vibrant spirit emanating from this girl; she might be a running enthusiast. She reciprocated the compliment, making my mother very happy.
So, taking advantage of my lingering question, I asked her if she really enjoyed
running. She seemed excited, as if she'd found a kindred spirit
.
I said, "Since you like running, did you know that Haruki Murakami also wrote about running?"
"Are you referring to his essay collection, *What I Want to Talk About When I Talk About Running*?" "

I said, yes, I don't know if you've read it. While I was chatting with her, I noticed that Matchmaker Li and my mother were smiling broadly—it was unbelievable! I was only doing this to confirm a question that had been bothering me for almost a year.

I didn't care what they thought of me. She was clearly interested in my topic and asked, 'How did you know I like Haruki Murakami?'

'

Good heavens, that's unfair! How would I know which author you like? That's not my problem at all!' To avoid embarrassing her, I used a ruse, pretending to be mysterious, 'I know a lot about you!' 'Really?

Then tell me.' '
Well,' I quickly changed the subject, 'we'll talk about it later. What do you think of Murakami's book?' '
Of course it's good, do I even need to say it? And I especially love how Murakami connects running with writing.' '
That's exactly what I wanted!' My eyes lit up, and I asked intentionally, 'How so?'" "

She once said something like this," she recited with great familiarity: "Haruki Murakami wrote in his essay collection 'What I Want to Talk About When I Talk About Running,' comparing running a marathon to writing. He believes that running should set
a goal, and even if you don't finish within the expected time, as long as you have
the satisfaction of having done your best, or laid some foundation for the next race, or made some kind of major discovery, it's probably a great achievement." "

I really admire her memory." Then she added: "Notice the satisfaction he mentioned. He runs to complete a
task he set for himself, and if he doesn't finish, but gets 'satisfaction' along the way, it's not necessarily a bad thing.
And from that, he changed the subject, using running to talk about writing. " "

I quickly picked up the conversation," yes, I remember him saying in the article: "In other words, for long-distance runners, the feeling of pride or something similar upon finishing a race is perhaps the most important thing. The same
applies to writing. For me, at least, the profession of novelist is indifferent to success or failure. Book
sales, awards, and reviews may be indicators of success, but they are not the essential issue. Whether the writing meets one's own set standards is what truly matters; this is the only thing that
cannot be argued about."
Note this passage: when he transitioned from running to writing, he first stated that writing, or running like
writing , is not driven by great utilitarian motives. Of course, some people think he was just saying it, and in reality, he naturally desires what he cannot obtain. Regardless of the truth of this statement, the way he conducts himself is very meaningful: don't think about what you want before you do something, but ask yourself if your initial intention was applause and admiration.

If so, then
you naturally have your reasons for criticizing those who take advantage of others. Ruolan wholeheartedly agreed, saying, "Haruki Murakami also said—"You can probably fool others however you want, but you can't fool your own heart.
In this sense, writing a novel is like running a full marathon. For
the creator , the motivation quietly and truly exists within themselves, and they shouldn't seek form and standards from the outside." "

That's it," I immediately stated my opinion. "This passage clearly concerns a person's initial motivation—whether writing is a hobby or driven by a powerful personal desire, such as to win applause. And
to obtain these, one might be willing to expose their true character. I wouldn't call it a flaw, but it's certainly a commendable act, because their actions frankly tell us, 'I want fame, I want applause.'
Can we say these people are dishonest
? Are they necessarily hypocrites? At least, they aren't. They're just sophisticated egoists. All that talk about 'thinking about the forum's interests' is just a pretext to spout bullshit
."
In my excitement, I involuntarily uttered vulgarities. How could I say such
filth in this setting? What's wrong with me? I looked at them; my mother was also dumbfounded, and the girl hadn't expected me to use such
vulgar language.
Only Aunt Li smiled.
"Come on, let's have a drink. This weather is freezing! A sip of warm tea will warm our stomachs."

I obeyed Aunt Li's words guiltily, and everyone else present did the same. My mother glared at me hatefully. For a fleeting moment, a look of disgust flashed across her face, but I was unexpectedly filled with a
sense of goodwill.
I felt that compared to such a genuine expression of nature, those writers who loudly proclaimed their sense of justice were far less trustworthy. These great writers were clearly just trying to satisfy their own desires by promoting the nonsense about how hateful it is to work for free and how hard it is
to write . Who the hell
doesn't put in effort when they do something? Eating, walking, making love—everything requires some effort. Can anything be done without effort? Besides cursing those people and standing on the moral high ground, writers also have to pretend to be heartbroken and worried sick about the literary world. What a bunch of bastards!
My mother sighed: "I'm getting old, and times have changed
." I knew my mother was implying something, but I remained silent. But for some reason, she had to show off, saying
, "Auntie, you're not old at all! You
're very young, you'll live to ninety-nine without a problem."
This flattery was so off-putting; I barely managed to suppress my laughter, almost bursting out. My mother glared at me, and I
forced myself to hold it back, feeling a real strain on my internal organs. Just then, the dishes arrived, and everyone eagerly started eating. I was curious about when the food had been ordered, but I didn't ask
.
While I was eating, my mother suddenly asked her, "Ruolan, how old are you this year?" The girl's name was Ruolan, a name so overused in movies and TV dramas
.
"You're twenty-six now, and after your birthday, you'll be twenty-seven."

"What? You're the same age as your son?" The mother's eyes shone brightly. "Yes,
Auntie."
"When is your birthday?"
"Tomorrow."
"What a coincidence! Well then, Ruolan, I'll have Huoyan deliver a gift to you tomorrow."

"No need, Auntie, I'm very busy tomorrow."
"No matter how busy you are, you should at least have a meal together. Auntie has made it clear to you today, you two should meet tomorrow and have a proper talk."
Every word the mother spoke seemed to have a hidden meaning, and in response, the matchmaker, Li, suddenly understood. "Yes, how could I forget?" Matchmaker Li, who hadn't interrupted since we started chatting, suddenly added, for some reason, "You young people love to chat privately; it's so inappropriate of me to be a matchmaker. We

absolutely have to meet tomorrow." She deliberately made a playful face as she said it, but it didn't have much effect; her strikingly beautiful face even had a counterproductive effect. Just as the three of them were discussing something pointless for tomorrow, my phone suddenly rang. I
gestured to them and went outside.
As soon as I stepped outside, I answered the phone. A roar came through the line, "Hey Flame,
what's wrong with you today? Didn't we agree to meet at Xiangyuan tonight? You dare to stand us up? Hurry up and get over here!"

"I can't, I'm busy."
"Busy with what?"
"I have something to do right now and can't talk to you."
Qiangzi snatched the phone from Shen Lang. "What is it? What could be more important than us eating and dashing here?
Come and rescue us, or we'll be taken to the police station."
"Come on, this trick is nothing new."
"Don't believe me? It's true, we have several new customers tonight."

"Alright, I'll be there in a bit. I'm hanging up now."
Just as I was about to hang up, I heard their smug laughter on the other end of the line, "Now believe me, right? If you lose, pay up quickly. Flame has always been a womanizer who prioritizes women over friends."

I shook my head, hung up the phone, and went back inside. They were all looking at me. I touched my face and asked, "What's wrong? Why aren't you eating the mixed crab?" I

deliberately lifted the lid of the bowl, and as a few wisps of steam rose, the sweet aroma of the mixed crab meat tantalized everyone's noses.
In the bowl, in a thick, gravy-thickened broth, sat warm, tender gray-eyed snow crabs. "Wow!
" A chorus of exclamations erupted in the private room.
"Ah, so happy! I didn't expect to be able to eat this in this season!"
When the conversation had cooled down and the merriment was almost over, I prepared to leave. My mother asked, "Where are you going again?"
I replied, "The boss asked me to go back and take care of some things." "That's about enough for today. It's rare for me to get together with your Aunt Li, so we'll stay a little longer," my mother said. Then she asked, "Ruolan, what about you? Do you want to stay a little longer?

" Ruolan
, being perceptive, glanced at her watch and said, "No, it's so late, I have to go home."
Without even asking if I agreed, my mother took it upon herself to have me take her home. I looked embarrassed.
Seeing my expression, Ruolan offered, "No need, my home is nearby, it's no trouble
at all."
"You child, when did you learn to lie?" Aunt Li said, "Your place is clearly
quite far from here, I'm worried about you walking alone, it would be better if Huo Yan could take you."
My mother was also giving me a meaningful look. I understood what she meant; even with other people, one should have the courtesy of a blind date, say a few polite words, for example, when the girl is leaving, tell her: "Be careful on the road, let
me know when you get home," or proactively ask her if she has arrived home safely. The face-slimming acupoint, when viewed from the front, makes one think that appearances can be deceiving, she is very shrewd, as soon as she heard what I said to my mother, she said, "
Master !" After leaving the Youyuan Restaurant, I casually threw out the prelude: "Which direction is your home in? Do you want me to take you
home?
"
Ruolan didn't agree or disagree, but looked at me with a knowing look: "Then I'll trouble you."
I really hated myself, and I hated her too. Couldn't she see that I was just being polite? Does she even understand modern etiquette
? But the words had already been spoken, so I had no choice but to hail a taxi and
head . In the car, I remained silent
. "What's wrong? Did I say something
wrong just now?"
Good heavens, you finally realized you were wrong. I said, "Nothing's wrong, I'm just really tired today," and then added, "It really has nothing to do with you.

Don't worry about it."
"You making me feel bad, why don't you get off up ahead and I'll go home by myself."

"It's okay, I already promised my mom and the others I'd take you home safely."
Ruolan looked at me for a while, "You don't look well, is there something I did wrong?"
I snapped, "It really has nothing to do with you, can you leave me alone for a bit?"
Ruolan finally calmed down. I thought I could reach my destination safely like this, but she clearly didn't want
that.
Her curiosity was too strong.
"Why are you here on a blind date today? I remember you used to have a girlfriend."

Damn it, she had the nerve to bring up something from a year ago. I had tried my best to bury this past deep in my memory, but she had stirred it up again. That's right, Ruolan was right. A year ago, I did have a girlfriend, and we had been together for
seven years.
We've known each other since our sophomore year of college, and we fell in love soon after. After graduation, she went into finance, working at a large securities firm, and within a few years, she had accumulated a considerable sum of money.
I've heard that girls working on the financial district are considered "financial prostitutes" by others. She also
had to entertain clients every night and frequently travel for work. During these trips, she would post pictures online and on social media of a lifestyle I personally couldn't afford, and one she herself couldn't provide for herself.
Judging from these photos alone, the expenses were far beyond what an average office worker could manage. But hindsight is always 20/20. Before this happened, I was always curious why she
would take a one-hour shower every time she got home, and why she showered three times a day.
It was something I simply couldn't understand. Several times I subtly brought up marriage, but she always quickly changed the subject
, using excuses like being in a rising career phase or not having enough money for a house and raising children.
Once, I bluntly asked her, "Is there any life in this world without worries? Even for the rich, it's impossible. Life is about
solving one problem after another, only to have countless more waiting for you. There's no such thing as a smooth journey or a life without trouble. All that talk about being well-prepared and worry-free for life is utter bullshit!"
To my surprise, this angered her. She said, "I just don't want to get married,
what are you going to do about it?" Then she ran back to her room to pack her clothes.
I didn't understand why she did that. I just watched her quietly as she packed
, knowing that whatever I said would be futile. I understood that when a woman is determined to leave, no amount of persuasion can keep her.
Watching her busy figure, my whole body went limp, and
I collapsed to the ground. A month later, Lin Sheng suddenly called me. He said on the phone, "Flame, I saw your girlfriend holding hands with a strange man.
" At that moment, I suppressed the trembling in my heart, trying to comfort myself while also not wanting to embarrass myself in front of my friends. I joked, "Lin Sheng, don't joke around, this could really kill someone.

Be careful we don't lose our friendship."
Then I hung up the phone. For the past month, I haven't contacted her, nor have I formally broken up with her. Perhaps it's better for everyone if things continue like this, without saying anything.
But that damned Lin Sheng shattered the peace.
I thought my words had scared him, but he was even
more furious . He kept calling, one call after another
. He said on the phone, "Flame, I really didn't lie to you, come quick, they've gone into the Magnificent Palace and booked a room
.
"
I told him to stop messing around, this could really kill someone. I was incredibly depressed at that moment. I hung up on him, but then he sent me a WeChat message with a video.
After I opened it, I swayed a few times, completely stunned. Lin Sheng really hadn't lied to
me. After watching it, I felt suffocated, like my lungs were about to explode. I was confident I didn't have the courage to catch
them in the act alone. Witnessing the so-called truth with Lin Sheng's help,
I never expected she would actually strip naked and engage in primal lust with a complete stranger.
When I kicked the door open, they were almost finished
. The man ejaculated into her uterus, and waves of abdominal spasms shook her.

After he ejaculated, the man pulled his penis out. I couldn't bear to watch, yet I had no choice but to observe this shameless woman using her mouth to clean the semen from his glans. This was a special service I had never enjoyed in the seven years we were together. At that moment, I really wanted to kick that man to death, crush his manhood, and smash his head.
But in the end, I did nothing. When I got home,
the scene in my mind, making me feel extremely uncomfortable. My stomach churned, and I suffered from insomnia for several days and nights.

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