The following day, a sandstorm hit Suicheng, with dust obscuring the sky and reducing outdoor visibility to less than five meters.

Despite the terrible weather, the windows were constantly rattled by flying pebbles from the early hours of the morning, but Xue Jing slept soundly, like a bear in hibernation, curled up in bed without moving an inch.

He would wake up, completely disturbed by the incessant ringing of his cell phone.

The first thing he did after regaining his senses was to curse. With his arms outstretched and brows furrowed, he fumbled for his phone on the pillow to answer a call, while his other hand reached for nothing on the bed.

Realizing that he was alone in bed, Xue Jing immediately sat up. It wasn't a dream, because all the clothes that had been thrown on the floor yesterday had been folded up and put back into his suitcase.

After the person on the other end of the phone said "hello" several times, Xue Jing finally breathed a sigh of relief and pulled his hand out from under the blanket again.

The caller was Zhou Shuang, Xue Jing's classmate and roommate.

The reason it's described as "half" is because Zhou Shuang and Xue Jing never attended the same school or rented the same house.

In mid-2019, Xue Jing received the offer to study at Yale University while studying at Jizhou University. At the same time, Zhou Shuang, who was studying at Stanford, started dating a French girl studying string music at Yale.

Six months later, the local epidemic broke out on a large scale. Before they could meet in person, the French girl hurriedly boarded a chartered flight back to China with the help of her family. Zhou Shuang, like Xue Jing, was stranded abroad because she miscalculated the severity of the epidemic.

In the middle of 2020, with countries closing their borders severely, tickets back home were extremely difficult to obtain, schools suspended in-person classes, and most projects were completed online. Zhou Shuang, who was staying in California, suddenly received a call from his girlfriend, who wanted him to come to her rented apartment in New Haven to check on her assets.

According to her, the male roommate she shared the apartment with was also a Yale student, and he was Chinese.

Initially, after she left, the two maintained brief communication, but for nearly a month, the other party stopped checking her private messages on Facebook and Instagram, and her phone calls went unanswered.

She was a freshman at Yale and didn't have any close friends. In addition, her lease wasn't on the deed, and the grumpy American refused to bother her in special circumstances because of her request.

Therefore, she pleaded with Zhou Shuang to go to New Haven for her to personally check if the other party had taken advantage of the chaos to rob all her belongings. If so, she needed his help to report the incident to the police and handle the aftermath.

4843 kilometers, from Stanford to Yale, from the westernmost part of the United States to the easternmost part, with a time difference of three hours.

Without saying a word, Zhou Shuang put on a double mask and a disposable protective suit the next day and boarded a 6-hour economy class flight.

After a six-hour flight, he squeezed into a two-hour train ride, risking infection to travel alone across the United States. This wasn't just because Zhou Shuang dreamed of a life where he would ring the bell at the New York Stock Exchange during the day and watch his artist wife perform at Carnegie Hall at night, but also because he was a strong-willed Chinese man.

He wanted to prove to his foreign girlfriend, who was four years younger than him, that Chinese people were not opportunistic and snobbish people who would take advantage of others' misfortunes, and that the stereotypes portrayed in Western films during the first half of the 20th century were very harmful.

Her Chinese roommate must have had some unspeakable difficulties; perhaps she was shot and killed in the street.

In fact, Zhou Shuang's prediction was completely wrong. When he finally managed to pry open his girlfriend's bedroom door by improper means, all the luxury items in her small bedroom were still there. Meanwhile, Xue Jing, who was lying in the large bedroom wrapped in all his clothes and had a persistent high fever, was not persecuted by any extremists, but he was indeed not far from death.

They rarely recalled what happened afterward.

Those days were as bitter as sucking on a handful of licorice; the two young people had lost hope that the sun would rise as usual the next day.

Out of the feigned politeness typical of people from Jicheng, Zhou Shuang offered to stay and take care of Xue Jing for a week. Later, he couldn't leave and also got infected. Then it was Xue Jing's turn to heat up instant chicken soup in the microwave to take care of him.

At a time of political turmoil and severe class conflict, with protests and demonstrations taking place everywhere and radicals lurking all around, two young men of similar age hid in that rented room for four months.

During this period, they reduced many unnecessary outings, and group assignments were all done online via video. Even so, they were still infected two or three times. It wasn't until social order gradually returned to normal that Zhou Shuang received an email from the school and set off to return to Stanford to collect her graduation certificate.

As for Zhou Shuang's French girlfriend? Even though many countries have declared the end of the pandemic, she ultimately did not return to Yale to resume her studies for various reasons.

The encounter between people is a miracle in itself, especially in years of bad luck.

The last time Zhou Shuang received news of her was through Xue Jing, who was about to return to China. At that time, she was already a mother of two, her figure was like a croissant covered in grilled cheese, she wore a beret, held a cigarette in her left hand and a coffee with strong liquor in her right hand, and directed the driver to pack all the Chanel into the Louis Vuitton trunk with her mouth.

Zhou Shuang has never had much luck in love; meeting the wrong person is a common occurrence in life. Xue Jing's French roommate often brought different guys back to the room for the night during their online relationship, and was by no means a shy freshman.

However, the eldest brother doesn't laugh at the second brother. Zhou Shuang, the womanizer, has a first-class sense for making money, a fact that Xue Jing must admit.

After returning to China, he made his first fortune by heavily investing in a star internet company when the black swan event first occurred in the country. In one year, he earned 20 times the profit for his clients, and his commissions were plentiful.

After the bull market peaked and the RMB depreciated, he promptly withdrew and turned his attention to monetizing online traffic. Now, in less than two years of working in the knowledge payment industry, he has already made a name for himself in the field.

In the past year, the real economy has been sluggish, and people have been staying home and spending more time online for entertainment, leading to the emergence of a new class of people who have become rich by taking advantage of the internet.

There are many KOLs lining up to collaborate with him, but he has his own style. In recent months, he has mainly focused on artists, and at this stage, he is considered a half-business partner of Xue Jing.

"Xue'er, are you going straight home after you get off the plane tonight? Should I send someone to pick you up? How have you been these past few days? Are you tired?"

"How about I book a massage therapist from the hospital to come to your home and massage your spine? Do you want acupuncture? I also know a blind traditional Chinese medicine doctor."

Zhou Shuang comes from a wealthy family in Jicheng. Her grandfather and parents were both senior actors at the Central Theatre Company.

Logically speaking, growing up in such an artistic environment, he should have picked up some artistic flair. However, Zhou Shuang did not follow in his father's footsteps. He loved making money since he was a child. In junior high school, in order to pursue the girl he liked, he auctioned off all of his father's stamp collection online.

In less than three sentences, he swam back to his old ways: making money.

"There's a one-on-one live stream event in the group on Monday morning. Our course from last month was incredibly popular. This time, the live stream will last four hours, with a three-minute paid Q&A session. The price is set at a minimum of 588 yuan, which will bring in several hundred yuan more per session."

"Isn't this much better than writing a book? If you ask me, you shouldn't hang out with those old fogies. You won't amount to anything. Whether you write or not, it's all the same. The main purpose of life is to make enough money to enjoy life."

"You already have a name, so just focus on making money! It's that simple."

"If you can't write it, just wait. Don't be so hard on yourself. Pushing yourself like this will only make you hurt."

The two people are very familiar with each other, know all the embarrassing jokes in each other's lives, and speak very casually.

Xue Jing immediately said, "Don't try to play games with me."

“I know you too well. Your concern for me is fake; you're just sucking my blood. I'm busy with important matters; I don't have time for live streaming. My schedule has changed. If you really consider me a person, have your assistant pack some extra luggage and send it to me.”

"I'll send you the address."

"I won't be going back tomorrow."

Zhou Shuang on the other end of the phone was immediately displeased. This was several million yuan in real money. Could a worthless report be more important than this?

His eyes darted around, and he tapped the receiver by his ear, wondering if Xue Jing had finally found inspiration for his next book?

Judging by the dates, apart from the reports produced by Xue Jing, he hasn't seriously created any writing of his own since the day he graduated with his master's degree.

The few novels that are still being published are all older stock.

A few years ago, Xue Jing was full of inspiration after breaking up with Ha Yue, but recently his inspiration has dried up.

No matter how hard he tried to get into the zone, traveled around gathering inspiration, or even drank himself into a stupor, he couldn't write a single new book except for vomiting in the toilet.

He no longer hated Ha Yue; conversely, the works that emerged from his resentment also drifted away from him.

Even when I force myself to write, I always end up repeating the same old tunes.

Thirty is a critical age for writers.

Yu Hua wrote "To Live" at the age of thirty-three, Kafka wrote "The Metamorphosis" at the age of thirty, and Fitzgerald created "The Great Gatsby" at the age of twenty-nine. The list of these male authors can be drawn on endlessly, not to mention female writers. Xiao Hong saw through "Life and Death Field" at the age of twenty-four.

Everyone knows that Jiang Lang (a famous Chinese writer) lost his best works in his later years, but Xue Jing, a "bestselling" author, is not even thirty years old yet, and his once-proud career has already begun to decline, and not just in a slow, intermittent way. The so-called talent that Ha Yue mentioned last night is like a broken appliance that has been unplugged.

The publisher he collaborated with was unaware of this, as were his online fans, the planners and editors who helped package his new book, and literary critics at most felt that his books were becoming increasingly rigid, heavily influenced by market demands, and that he had probably given up on writing what he truly wanted to write.

Only Zhou Shuang knew that commercialization was Xue Jing's worst strategy. If one's writing was divinely inspired, which proud writer would truly be willing to sell courses to teach others how to write? None of the art gurus he had recently promoted were still creating with their hearts. Having shown the public enough interesting souls, their inevitable path was to make money through live-streaming e-commerce.

Writing literary reports was Xue Jing's last lifeline, a self-inflicted hardship, fearing that his work would be wasted on idleness. As time went on, he really couldn't type a single word.

With his right hand, Zhou Shuang dialed an internal number for his assistant outside the office, telling her to go to Teacher Xue's house now. Zhou Shuang retorted, "It's just a little over ten thousand words, why is it so difficult? You wrote those previous articles quite quickly. Just scribbled something down. Searched online and pieced it together."

"If this report is really difficult for you, I'll find someone to write it for you."

"If we don't go back this week, will we go back next week? Let's have a meeting to discuss the course content. We need to strike while the iron is hot and launch a refresher course."

"We also need to arrange a photo studio to take some professional photos of you; the new course needs a new packaging."

"How much money do you think these kids aspiring to be online writers actually have? A thousand yuan seems a bit much, doesn't it? Are we willing to push that price to the limit?"

"Hiss, speaking of which, I just remembered something."

"These kids who bought your courses should all be adults by now, right? There's no issue of them using their parents' money to overspend on courses. Oh dear, I'll have to make a note of this and discuss it with our legal team later. We're making money legitimately, let's not get into any more lawsuits."

"It's okay if I smell bad, I'll just change my shell and keep going. The main concern is that it might have a bad influence on you."

Xue Jing now makes a living based on his looks, so he can't just get plastic surgery to change his face.

On the phone, Zhou Shuang was essentially asking and answering himself, his thoughts jumping around like a whim, his ideas popping up faster than those of an ADD patient.

Xue Jing listened, annoyed, his eyes falling on the charging cable of his phone.

The cable must have been plugged into his phone by Ha Yue before she left. He felt anxious whenever he thought about last night, not just about how to deal with Ha Yue, but also about how to conduct himself.

Xue Jing's Chinese teacher when he was a child was a middle-aged, unmarried woman who had a rudimentary understanding of psychology.

At that time, he particularly admired the teacher's teaching content and regarded the teacher's words as gospel.

Every time she talked about family education in class meetings, she would tell her classmates, "Like begets like," to warn them that parents' behavior is crucial to a child's development.

So from that time on, Xue Jing was particularly afraid of hearing the phrase: "The son will grow up to resemble his father."

He was determined not to become like Xue Lianwu, so ever since he gained the ability to distinguish right from wrong, everything he did was contrary to his father's wishes.

His father was wicked to the core, so he wanted to show him how good his father could be.

His father treated rules and boundaries as a joke, so he insisted on sticking to his own little square.

But last night, he made a fatal mistake and did something extremely immoral.

He ended up in bed with his ex-girlfriend without any official status or recognition.

The problem is that he experienced both pain and pleasure simultaneously during the process, finding it extremely intense.

If only people could truly fool themselves, pretending to be innocent, indifferent, incredibly successful, arrogant, or a brilliant artist. If life were purely about acting and deception, then nothing in this life would be so difficult.

Just like his parents, they acted their whole lives and lived a glamorous life in front of outsiders.

The key is that he can't; he's just a stubborn person.

He was neither as fake as Xue Lianwu and Feng Yun, nor as genuine as Zhou Shuang. The pursuit of money could not be the only goal in his life. He still had a long life ahead of him, seemingly endless, and he still wanted some resounding passions.

And among these passions, there is still Ha Yue, after all the twists and turns.

A person who is not so good, but not bad enough either, like two sides of a coin.

Mustering up the courage to toss the coin into the air, letting bygones be bygones, when it falls again, sincerity still prevails.

So Xue Jing agreed, his tone calm but steady, "Yes, more than 10,000 words are definitely not enough. Suicheng has such good rural material, there's a lot to explore if we dig deeper. I think it will cost at least several hundred thousand words. In addition, the wind power industry has great potential. In order to conduct research, I need to take a high-altitude operation certificate test tomorrow."

As for the certification exam, it takes at least two or three months to complete.