“Already?”

“Miss Shen was the last meeting I had,” Gui Yin said.

“Well, okay. Safe travels,” his coworker mumbled as Gui Yin rounded the desks. The man clicked his tongue. “I thought gay people were supposed to be really friendly. Why is he always like a frozen popsicle?"

The words reached Gui Yin’s ears, but he didn’t bother getting arguing with him.

He pressed the elevator button and waited for one of the doors to part. Seconds ticked by horrendously slowly.

In the silence, his mind drifted back to Miss Shen’s story, a sad sigh unconsciously escaping his lips.

Miss Shen was a good writer—there was no arguing that. Her words flowed magically from her fingertips, forever weaving a realistic universe that one could easily get lost in. It was unfortunate that she quickly became a buried gem.

A majority of the time, those who prowled the internet enjoyed content that didn’t expend much brain power since it was their way of winding down after a long day. That was why a no-brain stallion novel could top the charts, while a story that underlined the darkness of humanity or crafted a mind-bending mystery would get ignored. The no-brain stallion novel might even garner more attention simply because people would get curious about why it was doing so well.

As this pattern continued on, these novels that people loved to hate-read ruled the charts while stories with genuine substance or authors with genuine talent would quickly get buried under.

Unfortunately, there was nothing that could be done. Good web novel sites might try to promote smaller creators, but even then, regular readers might consider the low-ranked story a “risk” that they didn’t want to waste their time on. Bad web novel sites just wouldn’t care. Who cares if their content is trashy or cliché? They were still making money, weren’t they? That’s all that really matters.

Gui Yin shook his head as the elevator’s ding interrupted his thoughts.

He stepped into the elevator and pressed the button for the ground floor.

There was little use mourning and complaining over the state of the internet. All he could do was try his best to help the authors he was in charge of. Thankfully, most of the time, his best was just good enough.

“Gui Yin?”

The man froze at the familiar voice.

A soft chuckle entered his ears. “It’s really you.”

Gui Yin glanced at the man beside him. “Mr. Zhen.”

“So, it’s ‘Mr. Zhen’ now?”

“What else would I call you if not Mr. Zhen?”

The man showed a shocked expression. A short, bitter laugh followed. “Gui Yin, you’re very cruel. I haven’t seen you in a while, so I just wanted to reminisce a little. You’re getting off work now, right? How about we go grab a drink right now?”  

Gui Yin turned away from Zhen Wengu, who was more well-known under the pseudonym Chasing Fireflies. 

“How is your wife, Mr. Zhen?”

Zhēn Wèngǔ (甄问古) frowned. “Must you bring her up now?”

“I figured it would be alright, since we were talking about old times.”

“…She’s fine.”

“I heard she’s pregnant. Congratulations.”

The longer Gui Yin spoke, the darker Zhen Wengu’s expression became.

The elevator soon arrived on the ground floor.

Gui Yin was the first to step out.

The two men left the quaint office building and emerged into the dark night.

“Then, I will be heading this way,” Gui Yin nodded to Zhen Wengu and turned towards the bus stop.

“Gui Yin.”

A firm hand caught Gui Yin’s wrist.

Gui Yin stopped and looked over his shoulder at the petulant man. “What is it, Mr. Zhen?”

Zhen Wengu froze.

The gentle eyes that used to look at him with greater affection had turned cold. When Zhen Wengu looked into those eyes, he realized that he was no longer looking at the young man who had hesitantly opened up his heart to him. He was looking at someone who thought of him as nothing but a stranger.

“…Nothing.”

Gui Yin took his arm back. He smoothed out the wrinkles of his cardigan with furrowed brows.

“Mr. Zhen, please think before you act. You and I may have had a short relationship together, but now you’re a married man. If you continue acting like this, it’ll affect not only yours, but my reputation in my workplace as well.”

Zhen Wengu reluctantly nodded. “I understand. I apologize, Mr. Gui.”

Gui Yin’s gaze lingered on Zhen Wengu for a moment before he left without another word.

His brows furrowed tighter the further he got away. He wanted to rub at the spot on his wrist, but he resisted the urge. He could still feel the other man’s eyes on the back of his head. He drew in deep breath and slowly exhaled.

How repulsive.

The streetlights around the bus stop had gone out just last week, but they had yet to come by to fix them. Although there were still the lights from the nearby shops, as well as the light from the bus stop itself, the area surrounding the bus stop felt a little eerie.

Gui Yin ignored the uncomfortable feeling crawling up his spine and sat down at the bus stop.

He glanced at his phone.

It was 8:48 pm. This was the first time he would be leaving the company before 11 PM in a month.

Originally, he had been planning on working overtime again, but when he had to listen to his coworker’s rambling, he decided today was the day to break his streak. He just wasn’t in the mood. He didn’t have the patience. He was normally not a good-tempered person to begin with—he was just good at lying. However, no matter how great he was at lying, there were times when he wanted to snap.

Today felt like it would be one of those times.

“Maybe I should call in sick tomorrow,” Gui Yin murmured to himself as he fiddled with his cell phone.

His planning came to a short halt as the bus pulled up beside him. Gui Yin stepped onto the bus and took a seat in the very back.

He pulled out his phone again and checked his messages. He had a few from a handful of his friends, his half-siblings, who were asking for money again, and one from his dad, who asked him what he was planning on doing for his birthday.

Gui Yin stared at the unread message for a while before exiting the app altogether. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the headrest.

Birthday, huh?

He didn’t want to think about it.

If he went to his mom’s house, his dad would be offended. If he went to his dad’s house, his mom would be upset. He was going to be turning twenty-nine, so what was the use of celebrating a birthday of someone who was nearly thirty? It’s not like he celebrated it much when he was a child anyway.

Things like birthdays were better off being ignored. That way, no one would be upset, and he could just spend the day as he normally would. That would be the best birthday gift.

It was nearing 9:30pm when he arrived back at his apartment.

He took a quick shower, fixed himself a small snack, and began sending the materials he found over to Miss Shen.

By the time he finished, it was already past ten o’clock.

His cellphone lit up with a notification with a message from Miss Shen. It thanked Gui Yin profusely and, attached to the most recent message, was a rewritten outline for her newest story.

Gui Yin smiled and happily opened it.

The file popped up across Gui Yin’s old windows. He rested his chin against the palm of his hand as he slowly scanned its contents.

Even with just a bit of fiddling, the story had already ascended to a new level.

Gui Yin picked up his phone and sent a short text: “You’re very talented, Miss Shen. It’s looking better already.”

He set his phone aside and closed his laptop again. He stretched his waist and stood.

Without realizing it, the fatigue that had been building up on Gui Yin’s shoulders the entire day was finally getting to him. He rubbed his eyes sleepily and made his way to his room.

Winter had finally departed, leaving behind the warming spring months. Right now, it was still too cold to discard outerwear, but when you were at home, it was the perfect temperature to roll away from your covers.

Gui Yin lazily shimmied onto his bed and mindlessly threw his covers over his feet, the blanket barely covering his stomach.

Without even bothering to fix his posture, he closed his eyes and sighed.

Whatever coworker or ex or birthday he had to worry about would just be dealt with the following day. Relief washed over Gui Yin as he let himself bask in the warmth of his room, the soft sheets rubbing against his skin, and the drowsiness that had taken a tight hold of him.

Today—this day—was finally over.

And tomorrow would start anew.