A Talent

As soon as Xu Ya Qing heard that, she frowned. Remembering that Wei Yin had known Yu Tiantian before, and might even have run into Li Leran too, she quickly cut in. “Your pickup lines are so outdated. If you’ve got nothing better to do, don’t hold up our meal.”

Li Leran still kept staring at Wei Yin without speaking.

Wei Yin felt awkward and reached up to brush at her hair. She had no impression of Li Leran at all.

Especially with that head of red hair and heavy makeup, Wei Yin couldn’t even make out what she really looked like.

“Maybe you’ve got the wrong person,” Wei Yin said. “I’ve got a very common face.”

One of the friends who came with Li Leran recognized Xu Ya Qing. Knowing the two of them didn’t get along, they stepped in to smooth things over. “Leran, the private room upstairs is already urging us. Let’s go up.”

“You really don’t know me?” The more Li Leran looked, the more familiar Wei Yin seemed, but she just couldn’t place her. She was nowhere near plain-looking; with a face like that, if she’d seen her before, she would definitely remember.

Wei Yin shook her head. “I don’t know you.”

“Sorry, we’ve got the wrong person,” the person beside her said, pulling Li Leran away. “Come on, come on, Leran, let’s go.”

Li Leran was dragged off while still racking her brains.

Wei Yin, who had been asked face-to-face for ages, picked up a piece of cherry pork and asked Xu Ya Qing, “She’s your friend?”

Xu Ya Qing gave a snort. “Yu Tiantian’s.”

Wei Yin took two seconds to process that. “A friend of Yu Tiantian’s? Then are you two childhood friends? And you don’t get along?”

That made sense then.

“She and Yu Tiantian grew up wearing the same pair of pants,” Xu Ya Qing said, afraid Wei Yin would get interested in Yu Tiantian again, and changed the subject. “Her character’s bad, and her brain’s no good either. Don’t talk about her; eat. The next table is still waiting.”

As soon as Wei Yin heard that, she didn’t dare delay any longer and quickly stuffed food into her mouth.

She’d heard the name “Yu Tiantian” too many times these past few days, and now just hearing it made her instinctively recoil.

If someone could be friends with a person like that, and still talk so nastily, then this Yu Tiantian probably wasn’t any good either.

-

Over the next two days, Wei Yin lived the life of a rice weevil; she livestreamed during the day and scrolled on her phone when she was bored at night.

Occasionally she sent Hua Yu a few pictures of her daily life and asked whether she’d finished being busy, but Hua Yu never replied.

Xu Ya Qing said this was normal. Whenever Hua Yu prepared for some major exam as a child, she would throw aside her phone and all the other random distractions and focus on just one thing.

It was the same after she started working, too; she told Wei Yin not to worry.

Wei Yin said she was still worried.

During this time, Xu Ya Qing tried several times to persuade Wei Yin to go down the livestream-selling route, or at the very least pick pottery back up.

[Your uncle]: I’ve given you the studio key. Help me go there more often in the future.

Wei Yin was lying on the bed resting while Xu Ya Qing was in another room.

She spent the entire day talking about what would happen to the studio after Wei Yin left, and even after the two of them went back to their own rooms, she kept pestering Wei Yin on WeChat.

[in]: I have a proper job

[Your uncle]: ...What’s improper about livestreaming?

If it had been the nanny job from before, Wei Yin really wouldn’t have felt anything worth missing. But now she was at Dr. Hua’s house, okay? She had never even thought about leaving.

Just then, a WeChat message suddenly popped up.

The sender’s note was [16th-division Guo Ai].

[16th-division Guo Ai]: Senior, is this you?

What followed was a livestream screenshot.

Wei Yin opened it; it was Xu Ya Qing’s livestream room.

In the picture, she was showing off the twelve zodiac figurines she’d made, the differences marked by the animal patterns on their foreheads. Wei Yin was facing the camera full-on, and it wasn’t hard to tell it was her.

Wei Yin didn’t know who this Guo Ai was, but judging from the way she labeled people, she was probably a junior she knew.

Not replying would seem guilty, and also rude.

[in]: Hahaha, yeah, that’s me

Guo Ai sent back an excited sticker.

[I knew it—Senior is such a good person, and good people always have lots of people who like them!]

From the livestream’s popularity, the two of them barely chatted and mostly just kept their heads down working, yet there were still over a thousand people watching. The number of followers was growing steadily too, and although the gifts weren’t many, the ones people threw were all pretty pricey. That counted as a lot of people liking them, right?

Mostly, this person sounded like she was pretty familiar with her.

Wei Yin’s mind turned, and she decided to probe.

[in]: Too kind. I’m hardly a good person.

Guo Ai replied immediately.

[Senior is a very good person. If you hadn’t dragged me out during freshman orientation and kept me away from that alpha in heat, I’d definitely already be married young and have kids, living a miserably awful life now]

[There were so many people there, and you were the only one who stood up]

[If that’s not a good person, then this society is probably doomed]

So the omega she had saved at freshman orientation was her.

Wei Yin suddenly felt it all become real.

Since it was someone she’d helped before, Wei Yin started laying the groundwork without the slightest burden.

[in]: It’s been years since graduation. You still remember what happened back then?

Guo Ai typed incredibly fast.

[Of course I remember. I only joined the student union because of Senior]

[Though after going in I realized Senior being a good person had nothing to do with the student union; there was still a heap of trash in there. I quit in my second year]

Wei Yin thought about it, then asked again.

[in]: I used to help move omegas and alphas in heat around in the student union. It was all small stuff, no need to be so grateful. By the way, do you know Hua Yu?

Guo Ai said hand-lifting errands could only be used modestly to refer to oneself; Wei Yin couldn’t take it seriously.

[Hua Yu? Is that the young PhD in our college? The one with the super beautiful dark blue eyes?]

[in]: Yes, yes

[Every time she went to the library, a bunch of people would secretly take photos of her]

[I remember she and Senior were quite familiar. For a while, I kept seeing you two together]

[It was kind of amazing, actually. Hua Yu has the image of a cold, scholarly goddess, but when she appeared with Senior, she was pretty easygoing]

Wei Yin: !!!

[in]: When was that?

[Probably during my second year, second semester. I was busy with my year paper then, and I ran into Senior and Hua Yu. Senior greeted me, and I even used Senior’s light to ask Hua Yu a lot of questions]

Wei Yin mentally awarded Guo Ai a gold medal for being a good person.

[in]: And after that? Do you remember when we appeared together again?

This time Guo Ai didn’t give an answer right away.

[No impression. I went abroad for an exchange in my third year, and by the time I came back, Senior had already graduated]

Even though she hadn’t dug up much more, Guo Ai had already given Wei Yin a satisfactory answer.

So she really did have a good relationship with Hua Yu.

[Senior is looking for Hua Yu? I think I still have her WeChat]

[in]: No need, thanks for telling me all this

After ending the conversation with Guo Ai, Wei Yin rolled around on the bed seven or eight times before finally sitting up with her hair in a wild mess.

“Tomorrow I’m going to pick Dr. Hua up and bring her home!”

Right; she’d drag Hua Yu out of the hospital.

With something to look forward to, Wei Yin even slept soundly in her dreams.

She seemed to really dream of Q University. She was wearing a formal gown, a black tube top in a sexy style she had never tried before in her memory, so it sat on her a little awkwardly.

With that face full of anticipation and embarrassment, she looked around in the crowd.

The surroundings were noisy and lively; people stood in groups of three or five, young couples embraced passionately, good friends were drunk into a heap, and she kept looking toward the door, waiting for someone.

That heat and restlessness engraved in youth, the regret and lingering attachment within the noise; it was all so beautiful that Wei Yin still felt a little wistful long after waking up.

Today, both of them had things to do. Hua Yu was sealing herself away for three days; Wei Yin planned to go to the hospital to find her, and Xu Ya Qing had to go to work too.

“I’ll drop you off first,” Xu Ya Qing said, while her boss was calling to order her back to work on time; otherwise, she’d be treated as absent and fired. “Once I get my performance bonus this month, I’m quitting and going back to paint my pictures!”

Things you love really do keep tugging at your heart.

No matter how much time passed, what you liked was still hard to let go.

“Just drop me off at East Tower Station. I’m going to stroll around the pedestrian street,” Wei Yin said from the car, directing Xu Ya Qing to turn left. “Buy some gifts.”

Xu Ya Qing let out a “yo.” “You’ve only been apart for a few days, and now you’re buying gifts for when you meet again?”

“It’s for visiting someone in the hospital,” Wei Yin said, turning to look at her. “I’ll bring you something next time too.”

Xu Ya Qing quickly refused. “You’ve already left so many ceramics with me. I’ve got some face too, you know; I don’t want to take advantage of you every day.”

Wei Yin took the twelve zodiac pieces and the sunflowers with her; everything else stayed in Xu Ya Qing’s studio.

By Xu Ya Qing’s thinking, they could sell some of it, and the remaining little trinkets or flawed pieces could be given to fans as lucky-bag items.

But Wei Yin was a little hesitant. She felt embarrassed about having other people buy her things. In short, she lacked confidence and didn’t think her work could fetch much, so she left it all to Xu Ya Qing. Sell it, collect it, or use it as display pieces; whatever.

“I used your tools too,” Wei Yin said without being polite to Xu Ya Qing. “Just here; stop the car.”

Wei Yin watched Xu Ya Qing leave, then walked into the pedestrian street.

Before going to the hospital, she needed to visit Zhao Qi. Last time, after being scared, she had run off and hadn’t even exchanged a few words with Zhao Qi.

This time, at the very least, she needed to bring something when she went to see her.

Wei Yin opened her phone and checked the balances in a few bank cards, growing faintly worried.

On paper, it was the money she’d earned by being Hua Yu’s nanny and the hospitalization fees, but over the past few days, she really hadn’t done much, and Hua Yu had kept taking care of her instead.

Wei Yin always felt like she was taking advantage, yet she couldn’t think of a way to repay it.

Especially now that her balance was almost gone; at this rate, even meals would become a problem.

Even if Hua Yu was covering her room and board, she couldn’t go out without a single penny for spending money, could she?

As she walked, she ended up in a shop selling collectibles with quite a few customers.

The displays inside weren’t many; everything was handmade, and the prices were clearly marked. Even the jade pendants that were only two centimeters wide had price tags, and none of them were outrageously priced. Compared to the outside world, where all sorts of random jade and ugly stones were slapped with absurd labels, this place was much more down-to-earth.

The prices were plainly displayed and genuinely reasonable, which attracted quite a lot of young people.

The shop was very quiet. Customers chose things on their own, and no one was there pushing products on them. Wei Yin’s social anxiety was greatly soothed.

Wei Yin walked up to one of the wooden cabinets. Inside were ceramic ornaments about the same size as the ones she usually made. She paid attention to the prices: the smaller ones were twenty or thirty, the larger ones sixty or seventy, and the biggest ones ninety or a hundred.

If they were her twelve zodiac pieces, they’d probably fall into the sixty- or seventy-yuan range.

Wei Yin took out a few little figures and compared hers with theirs.

For ceramics like this, the porcelain quality on the market was more or less the same. As long as it was white and delicate, with a fine texture and no cracks, it counted as qualified. The main things were the style and the glaze color.

Wei Yin could paint, and she could also sculpt little figures. The twelve figures all had different clothes and expressions; some sat, some lay down, and the animal patterns on their foreheads were exquisitely detailed. Compared with the others, they didn’t fall behind at all; in fact, they looked even more refined.

“Miss, where did you buy these ornaments?”

A voice asked from beside her. Wei Yin turned her head and saw a middle-aged woman with a round face and a kind expression.

Seeing that the woman was interested in her ceramics, Wei Yin handed them over. “You mean these?”

She opened the box; inside were the remaining twelve zodiac figurines.

The woman’s eyes lit up, and she took them to look over carefully.

“These are very delicate. Did you design them yourself?” The woman picked one up, looked at it, then put it down without touching it carelessly, and asked again, “Where did you buy them, miss?”

Wei Yin pressed her lips together in a small smile. “I didn’t buy them. I made them myself.”

This time the woman was genuinely surprised. “You made them yourself?”

Wei Yin nodded.

The woman looked Wei Yin up and down, her smile growing even brighter. “Then coming into my shop, are you looking to consign them?”

“Consign them?” Wei Yin glanced around and saw that several cabinets had signs hanging in front of them reading consignment, and only then did she understand. “...I guess so.”

She didn’t understand this stuff. She had never sold anything before, and now that she’d stumbled across it by chance, she didn’t even know how to explain herself.

But she couldn’t let on that she didn’t know. She already looked a little dazed; if she looked any more blank, then out of every ten times she went out, she’d probably get cheated eight.

Wei Yin’s expression steadied a little. “Mm. I came out to take a look. Can these be consigned?”

The woman’s gaze turned even kinder as she took Wei Yin’s box. “Then I’ll have to take a good look.”

This time she picked up each little figure, examined it carefully from every angle, even turned them under the light to inspect them closely, and weighed each one.

The more she looked, the more satisfied her expression became.

At last, she walked up to Wei Yin and said with a warm smile, “Of course they can.”

TL Note:

rice weevil (米虫) = a lazy freeloader who lives off others.

grew up wearing the same pair of pants (从小穿一条裤子) means 2 people that were extremely close and inseparable since childhood.