CH 13

In one hour, the four voice actors would arrive.

Gu Qi’an was already working in the adjacent studio, which was very convenient for her so she seamlessly joined the session.

Her name was a little unusual, after searching her information online Yu Zhou realized that it was a nickname. Gu Qi’an gradually accumulated a reputation through free online voice acting, so she was used to using this otaku name.

The four voice actors were very professional and efficient, plus the preview part wasn’t long. After rehearsing once, Peng Xiangzhi explained the basic situation and emotions, then they finished recording quickly.

“Great, we’re done.”

Peng Xiangzhi turned off the microphone and closed the script. Everyone came out one after another, making the small recording studio a bit crowded.[1]

Gu Qi’an went back to her studio. Qing Shen had to rush to meet a friend so she also said good-bye in advance. So Peng Xiangzhi, Su Chang, Zhou Ling, and Yu Zhou went to the restroom to order takeout.

Peng Xiangzhi didn’t like eating alone, since the voice actors had taken time out of their busy schedules, Peng Xiangzhi always made sure to treat them to a meal after recording.

It was just some takeout, not a grand affair, but it helped to strengthen their bond with each other.

As Peng Xiangzhi handed the phone to Yu Zhou to order a takeout app, Yu Zhou suddenly had a belated thought.

These dishes were just home-style dishes, so the per capita cost wasn’t very high. However, Su Chang had just asked if Peng Xiangzhi could transfer it to her card.

Not to say the joke, speaking solely about the amount for the takeout, it could have been easily handled through WeChat transfer. Yet, she still insisted on receiving the payment through her card.

Yu Zhou wasn’t sure if Su Chang was hinting at something when she said that. Did she remember that Yu Zhou transferred the money she owed into her bank account?

A crisp snap of Su Chang’s fingers interrupted her thoughts.

Yu Zhou wondered if it was a habit of voice directors to use snaps as cues since Peng Xiangzhi also snapped her fingers before recording.

Maybe Su Chang just had a habit of doing it.

Yu Zhou randomly ordered a dish of boiled meat slices and handed it to Su Chang.

Su Chang took it and glanced quickly, she knew that Peng Xiangzhi was on a diet and had work to do later, she wouldn’t eat anything too greasy or too spicy, so the stir-fried vegetable dish must be ordered by her. Then the other boiled meat slices were for someone else. It went without saying.

Su Chang pursed her lips before gently releasing them, then looked at the screen as she said, “There’s boiled beef, do you want to change it?”

Yu Zhou did not like pork, so if there was beef, she would always choose beef instead. She seemed to have been lost in thought earlier so accidentally ordered the wrong dish.

Su Chang’s voice was soft and quiet, but Zhou Ling and Peng Xiangzhi still turned to look at her.

Because it was unusual for Su Chang to speak in such a hesitant tone to solicit other people’s opinions.

Moreover, her words were delicate, making it seem as if she was familiar with the author who she had just met for the first time.

There was a brief silence at the table. Yu Zhou hoped that she wasn’t the intended recipient of Su Chang’s question. Unfortunately, the longer the silence lasted, the more awkward the atmosphere became. So Yu Zhou timidly poked her head out and asked, “Oh, really?”

“In that case… Ms.Su, could you please help me change it? Thank you.” She then drew back and twirled her phone in her hand.

“Okay.”

Su Chang cleverly replaced the dish and did not say anything else.

Peng Xiangzhi’s gaze glanced off Yu Zhou’s body, while Yu Zhou was playing with her phone, silently praying in her heart – I wish someone would come and save me now.

Heaven had mercy, her phone really vibrated. She looked closely and saw the word “Me” on it.

Damn, what the hell.

It took Yu Zhou two seconds to remember that she had given her old phone to Xiang Wan and even put an old SIM card in it. She was a bit worried because she didn’t know how long she would be out.

So Yu Zhou gratefully answered the call: “Wanwan.”

Su Chang was playing with her phone with her head down.

There was no sound on the other end of the call.

“What’s wrong, Wanwan?” Could something have happened?

After a full ten seconds of silence, Xiang Wan’s voice cautiously came through: “Did it work?”

Yu Zhou laughed, because Xiang Wan’s tone was just like summoning spirits and invoking divine intervention.

Su Chang looked up, meeting Yu Zhou’s laughter that she didn’t have time to conceal.

Yu Zhou blinked, coughed twice, covered her lips with her hand, then shifted her body to the side: “What’s going on?”

“Nothing happened.”

“I’m just asking when you’ll be back since you’ve been out for so long.” Xiang Wan said.

Yu Zhou glanced at Su Chang again, moving her hand up a bit to cover her mouth: “Around six or seven o’clock.”

“Um… The Dog Hour,” she said in a very low voice, afraid that others would hear her using the traditional Chinese Hours, “I’ll be back during the Dog Hour.”

“Uh-huh.” Xiang Wan fell silent again, and after a while, she said, “All is well, don’t worry.”

Yu Zhou almost burst into laughter again, as Xiang Wan didn’t seem to know how to say goodbye and instead used the ending of a letter.

But then Yu Zhou thought that if she said “bye, hanging up,” Xiang Wan might not understand either, so she also ambiguously whispered back, “All is well, don’t worry. I… will return slowly.”

Since she couldn’t see any expressions or use any gestures, Yu Zhou racked her brain to speak a few Classical Chinese for efficient communication.

When Yu Zhou heard Xiang Wan laughing on the other end, she finally hung up the phone. Letting out a sigh of relief, she felt her ears were burning.

Looking back at the table, there was a strange sense of absurdity, as if returning to reality.

Indeed, it was absurd. If she were to tell someone now that a person from ancient times had time traveled to her home, she’d probably be thrown out.

She touched her reddened ears, buried her head, then continued playing with her phone, hearing Su Chang sigh across the table.

For some reason, that sigh landed precisely in her ears, as if quieting everything.

Yu Zhou remembered when she brought up breaking up with Su Chang, she didn’t even argue with her, just asked one question: “Why?”

Why, she couldn’t say.

She really wanted to tell Su Chang that life wasn’t like writing a novel; there were very few glaring obstacles labeled “difficult” that broke up couples. The most exhausting thing in life was the trivial matters.

She had been working a nine-to-five job since graduating from college, while Su Chang, a few years older, had a wealthy family that allowed her to pursue her ideal life.

Not everyone was like Su Chang, a favored child of heaven, with the capital to try anything she wanted. She didn’t even need to be willful, everyone around her naturally made way for her.

Just like today when she took it for granted that she wanted an A8.

If it were Yu Zhou, she’d probably think, if it’s hotter in A7, then so be it. She hated bothering others and disrupting their well-planned schedules.

These differences manifested in their lives as Yu Zhou getting up when Su Chang was still asleep, and when Yu Zhou had to go to bed early for her morning shift, Su Chang would wait for the quiet of the night to start her recording.

For a long time, they lived like roommates, then Yu Zhou channeled her unexpressed desire to confide into her writing.

When Su Chang sometimes wanted to chat with her, all she had was the sight of Yu Zhou’s back in front of the computer, or her back when she went to take a shower after exhausting her desire to express herself.

Suddenly one day, Yu Zhou felt that something was wrong with this state, so she tried to find something to chat with Su Chang.

But they didn’t have any common friends, and the only things Yu Zhou could gossip and complain about were her colleagues and her dull job.

However, Su Chang, who had never experienced the workplace, couldn’t understand.

She didn’t understand why Yu Zhou would fret over how to send an email, or why she would be nervous about whether to book a large or small conference room. Or maybe, she didn’t even understand why the income of a few thousand or ten thousand yuan a month was worth the daily exhaustion for her Yu Zhou.

Although she didn’t say it, Yu Zhou could feel it.

Because Su Chang once asked her if she wanted to quit her job if she wasn’t happy.

After a long period of wear and tear, Yu Zhou’s self-esteem became very sensitive. She asked back, what should she do after quitting her job? In fact, finding another job would be the same.

Su Chang pondered and said that she could actually do what she liked at home, such as writing novels.

Yu Zhou laughed and asked her, “I’m just an unknown author, how can I make a living by writing? Will you support me then?”

Su Chang saw her smile, and her expression seemed to lighten up a bit, so she nodded seriously at her.

But with that nod, Yu Zhou collapsed.

She wanted to ask Su Chang, “How would you support me? Your circle of friends, your social media, your career, your pursuits, all of your life has no trace of me. You haven’t introduced me to your friends, nor are you prepared to come out to your family. How would you support me? Would I be like a silent canary, be kept in an exquisite cage?”

But Yu Zhou didn’t.

Instead, a few days later, she informed Su Chang, “Let’s break up.”

Su Chang asked her, “Why?”

She said, “I can’t find the feeling I had when I liked you at first.”

It was true; she was tired of liking and didn’t want to like anymore.

Then Su Chang sighed like this, a little longer than the sigh she just heard. She asked again, “Have you thought it through?”

Yu Zhou nodded and said, “Yes.”

The well-mannered Su Chang didn’t say goodbye. She got up, opened the door and left, closing the door with a bit of force.

That ended their relationship.