Chapter 18
Three months have passed, and the verification information has expired.
You tapped your phone screen and vaguely remembered the bracelet—it was from a bar in the city. A thought flashed through your mind, and you raised an eyebrow, but didn't think too much about it. You were just wondering how he knew your WeChat.
It seems he's also someone in that circle.
You remain expressionless and casually delete the add request. Besides this invalid message, there are many other greetings. The senior's chat box remains silent at the very bottom of the message bar.
His profile picture changed to a lonely shadow in the sunlight, just like him, pitiful and miserable. You were so resolute when you broke up, but now you stared at it for a long time without deleting it.
Just leave it there.
Being able to cut through the mess quickly is already quite elegant; there's no need to add any more ritualistic elements.
You were slightly deceiving yourself, turning off the screen and not thinking about it any further.
The neighboring city doesn't have a strong foundation, and many relationships aren't as convenient as before. However, this is a first-tier city with great development prospects. You do everything yourself, just trying not to make mistakes, and give yourself some time to calm down.
The new institution is located between two secondary schools, a prime location, but it also keeps you running around so much that you almost break your legs.
Time flies when you start working. You're busy and everything is on track. The training program welcomes its first batch of students. You have dedicated teachers and staff to maintain daily operations, so you're not as busy as you were at the beginning and you have time to breathe.
My 31st birthday is approaching quietly.
You finish your workday and collapse wearily onto the sofa.
You realize you haven't eaten cake yet, but you're too lazy to call and order some. Luckily, there's still food in the fridge. The egg tarts your assistant bought this morning have cooled down. You rummage through your pockets, stick a match into an egg tart, but don't make a wish or light it.
The room was pitch black, but the neon lights outside illuminated the windows. Among all the lights in the world, yours had been extinguished long ago.
Fortunately, I have money, which has solved half of my life's troubles.
Sometimes, however, I still fall into nightmares of being old and helpless, and dying miserably, because of the people around me.
You always thought you didn't have to fit in, but when the people who walked alongside you disappear, it's inevitable to start having doubts when you're all alone.
...
Since I've become single again, I occasionally accept introductions from others and try to meet some new friends.
However, due to your profession, you can't reveal your identity, and when you meet similar people, it feels like you're separated from them by a Somali trench, and you often can't connect with them.
The first person I met was at the gym. He was about twenty years old, a young guy who asked for my WeChat ID. He was a tall, handsome man with dark tan skin, a strong chest, and a very nice butt.
You're not exactly an enthusiastic person, and your conversations have been lukewarm. This guy dropped out of high school and ended up as a gym instructor by chance. He's doing very well because of the high salary, and just like your old impression of the industry, he's very outgoing.
After confirming that you were not interested in him, he blocked you.
The second person was introduced to him by someone who praised his personality to the skies, listing numerous advantages: a master's degree, a trendy guy, never having been in a relationship, having lived a lonely and miserable life, and being the last virgin in the gay community.
Out of consideration for the matchmaker, you went to meet him once. Unlike the tanned, muscular man, he was handsome, lively, and a bit older.
Naturally, you started talking about your lives. The guy was outgoing and loved keeping up with the latest news.
He checks in at restaurants, bubble tea shops, gyms, books, and movies; he lives in the best apartments and wears the most fashionable brands. Every time we meet, he's dressed in a youthful and vibrant style. But unfortunately, his current job isn't enough to support his extravagant spending, so he's heavily indebted through credit cards, online lending platforms, and online payment services.
You once brought up this topic with him in a conversation, and the kid was nonchalant, poking at his Coke cup: "Why can't I treat myself better? If I don't enjoy myself now, am I going to wait until I'm old?"
You said, "I believe that reasonable savings, used for financial investment, can help you enjoy a happy old age."
He gave him a look that said, "Huh? What are you talking about?"
You quietly look at him, waiting for his response, but the child purses his lips, crosses his arms, and says, "So you're the kind of person who saves money as soon as you earn it, doesn't want to spend a single penny on yourself, and even brings your own toothbrush when you go on a trip?"
"No way, uncle."
Listening to his mocking smile, you pondered for a moment, then smiled and rubbed your forehead: "Okay."
You interlock your fingers: "I have two properties, a stable job, a financial advisor, and I save money every year."
“You spend your entire monthly salary on food, drinks, and entertainment, owing money to credit cards, Alipay, and other credit cards, and friends. You are constantly losing money day after day, trapped in the consumerist trap, believing that pleasing yourself is more important than anything else.”
"But it doesn't matter, we all have a bright future."
"..."
You've known each other for about a week. One night, the other person suddenly video calls you. You were brushing your teeth when the call request popped up, and your phone accidentally fell into the sink.
I frantically wiped it clean, and the more chaotic it became, the less I could turn off the screen. I even accidentally clicked "accept," and was forced to see a half-naked man in a bodysuit sitting in the bathtub, slouching and sticking out his buttocks, calling out "Teacher."
You're holding your phone, staring at him blankly.
The other person's expression went from relaxed to tense, probably because your expression was too serious. He slowly and stiffly sat up, covering his face with his hand: "Um... Teacher Nan, good evening."
"Good evening," you said.
For some reason, the other person became increasingly reserved, hastily pulling off a bath towel to cover the bathtub, like a student meeting for the first time in a training class.
With toothpaste foam still around your mouth: "What's up?"
"No...uh...I mean, do you know the probability of a normal distribution?"
"Know."
You look at him, he looks at you, and you feel that his eyes are full of curiosity, or... the will to survive.
"Wait a moment."
You turn your phone face down, lean against the sink, slowly let out a sigh of relief, rinse your mouth, and put on your glasses: "Is there a blackboard next to you?"
"……have"
After that, he treated you with exceptional respect. You didn't contact the trendy guy again and had no idea what he thought of you behind your back.
Later, you gradually encountered people who approached you, but for some reason, all of them were younger than you.
Do you look like the kind of gay guy who likes younger men?
You asked He Songyou, and He Songyou just kept humming and hawing for a long time without giving a clear answer. But the silent camel sent you a few posts.
You see your own photo in the first post of the first thread.
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