Mud beads

Sister Liao announced the store's closure in August quickly, but Liang Xia found a new job even faster. On the third day, she booked a new job at a chain milk tea shop in a nearby shopping mall. She would start work in early August, earning 200 yuan less than at Nong Ning Cha. The advantage was that it would provide social security, but the disadvantage was that the boss was demanding and required everyone to wear light makeup to work.

"Light makeup." Liang Xia emphasized these two words. "Does my face even need light makeup? The moment I stand there, I'm radiating wealth and prosperity."

Yu Zhu smiled without saying a word, while Liang Dong, who was indeed strikingly good-looking, quietly sought to make a living.

He didn't say much to Liang Xia, nor did he go to LIMBO again. Every night after his shift, he would walk downstairs with Yu Zhu, watch her go inside, and then go up to the fifth floor himself. The small room on the fifth floor was terribly hot; if the window was open, the smell of cooking oil from the restaurants in the back alley would waft out, and if it was closed, it would be stuffy. He had collected a lot of used equipment from secondhand groups and spent a month's salary on a graphics card, piecing together a desktop computer. He pushed the small table against the wall, ran the power cord along the base of the wall, and taped it in place with clear tape to prevent him from tripping over it when he got up at night.

Liang Xia told Yu Zhu about the first day of the broadcast.

She held her phone up to Yu Zhu's face. The screen displayed game graphics that Yu Zhu couldn't understand, and the profile picture was a mischievous rabbit wearing a bow tie. The live stream title was also simple: New CS streamer, follow for free!

There are no faces in the scene, only the game itself. The crosshair in the center of the screen seems to be searching for someone to kill; each shot is a headshot, and burst fire is rare.

The comments were sparse, with only two or three people passing by at first.

This player's skill level is high enough to play professionally.

Dude, this is just fried fish.

Liang Xia watched for two seconds, then burst out laughing in exasperation: "This idiot, pretending to be mute during a live stream, doesn't he know that live streaming is also a service industry?"

Yu Zhu took the phone and saw a smoke bomb explode on the screen, and the earpiece in the lower right corner lit up briefly.

"The two behind the large box in package B."

Liang Dong's voice came from the phone's speaker, sounding somewhat distorted, but the youthful clarity was still evident, clean yet with a touch of toughness.

The comments paused for a moment, then a few more appeared immediately.

[The host has a pleasant voice.]

Talk more, I love to listen.

Liang Dong ignored him.

After winning that game, someone sent a small gift. A fluffy cloud appeared on the screen, slowly drifting downwards from the top, and gradually faded away after a few seconds. Liang Dong replied in the chat box: Thank you.

Someone replied in the live chat.

L1 Fairy Vegetable Seed: Thank you for speaking up, streamer.

A few seconds later, a slight static noise came from the microphone.

Liang Dong said, "Thank you for the little cloud from Cai Cai Zi's boss."

Liang Xia, sitting outside the bar, almost slid off her chair laughing. Pointing at her phone, she cursed, "So embarrassing! He didn't inherit any of the social skills from the Liang family."

Yu Zhu also found it interesting, but felt mostly bittersweet.

A person who comes from a life of poverty and isolation is pushed by life to stand in the spotlight. He doesn't like to talk or show off because he's afraid of making a mistake.

A few days later, Liang Dong had built up a fan base and started taking on individual jobs. These included playing games with his teammates, ranking up characters, teaching shooting skills, and filling in for teammates. His livestream room wasn't large, with only a few dozen people coming and going. The amount of money donated varied; sometimes it was enough for him to stream for over ten hours straight, and sometimes it was only enough to buy a single boxed lunch. He kept track of his bills in his phone's notes app, carefully calculating the platform's cut.

Yu Zhu never asked Liang Dong how much he earned in a month. Asking too much about money is like reaching into someone's pocket.

In mid-July, Chang'an began to feel sticky and hot.

The sycamore leaves in the school are large and glossy, reflecting a sheen when exposed to the sun. Yu Zhu attends classes in the morning as usual, goes to the cafeteria at noon, and works at the shop in the afternoon if she can find a shift. When she doesn't have a shift, she sits in the library, enjoying the air conditioning and reading, occasionally opening a job search app to look at part-time jobs.

Etiquette, promotion, flyer distribution, intermediary...

Those with high salaries are often dishonest, those with moderate salaries are expected to be stable, and those with low salaries can't even cover their expenses.

She saved the suitable job postings, then deleted them one by one. Only when the screen was empty did she realize she'd been staring at her phone for too long, and her eyes were sore.

On Wednesday, after her Western Literature History get out of class, Professor Meng, who taught her major course, called her over.

"Yu Zhu, stay here for a moment."

Yu Zhu stopped in her tracks.

Ms. Meng was young, but she lectured slowly and liked to turn off the projector and write in her own handwriting on the blackboard. Dante, Don Quixote, Goethe, Baudelaire. Lines of chalk ink fell, leaving white chalk dust on the hem of her black dress.

"The school is having a drama festival next month, and our department needs to put on two shows. One is 'The Night Banquet of Han Xizai' (Eastern version), and the other is an excerpt from 'The Theocracy' (Western version)." Teacher Meng tucked her lecture notes into a folder, looked up at her, and said, "We're still missing an actor for 'The Theocracy,' and I think you'd be suitable. Why don't you give it a try?"

Yu Zhu paused for a moment, then didn't answer immediately.

The classroom was empty, with only the sound of the ceiling fan whirring. Outside the window, someone was calling for assembly on the playground, their voice carried away by the hot air.

Theater festival, rehearsal, actors.

These are all unfamiliar words.

She didn't like standing in front of people, with so many eyes watching her. At first, those eyes held disdain, then curiosity, and later something more complex. She didn't like it.

"Teacher, I can't act," she said.

"We're not a film academy, so we don't have such high standards," Professor Meng laughed. "You don't have to see this as acting; you can see it as meeting souls who suffered similarly a thousand years ago."

This sentence was abstract, but it touched Yu Zhu's heart.

"No need to answer me right away." Teacher Meng pulled out a few pages from the folder and handed them to her. "This is the script. Take a look first."

Yu Zhu took the paper and lowered her head.

The excerpt from the script was from lines 400 to 440 of Theogony, a story she knew.

Under Zeus's powerful coercion, the goddess Asteria, rather than submit, transformed into a quail and jumped into the sea to escape. After meeting the destroyer Titan Perseus, she made a pact with him and married him, giving birth to the goddess Hecate.

On the page, Asteria's name was crossed out in yellow with a marker, which must be the role she was going to play.

"Goddess of the Stars?" Yu Zhu raised her head and silently repeated the tongue-twisting name in her mind.

"Hmm. The teachers in the department have looked at the photos of several students and their usual performance, and they all think your image is suitable." Teacher Meng tucked the documents under her arm and patted her arm. "We won't force you, after all, rehearsals will take up some of your free time. If you'd like, I'll add you to the group tonight."

Yu Zhu stared at the name highlighted in yellow and slowly nodded.

"I do," she said. "Thank you, teacher."

As she stepped out of the teaching building, heat rose from the ground. Standing on the steps, she took out her phone; a group chat invitation from Teacher Meng was already displayed on the screen.

The group name is: Let's embark on a summer escape.

Moth

At noon, Liu Zhengyang reserved a seat on the second floor of the cafeteria.

Two stainless steel plates were placed in front of him, one for himself and one for Yu Zhu. When Yu Zhu walked over, he was carefully picking green peppers out of the shredded potatoes.

"Your behavior is very unmaterialistic." Yu Zhu sat down.

Liu Zhengyang didn't even look up: "Green peppers, as an objective substance, can exist in the world, but they shouldn't exist in my food."

Yu Zhu was amused by his words and put the canvas bag at her feet.

The cafeteria was noisy. Spoons scraped across plates, fans whirred, and students carrying bowls of soup squeezed past, oil slicking up the noodles. Yu Zhu ate a couple of mouthfuls of rice before remembering to ask, "How did you know I finished class late?"

"It's not hard to guess why Teacher Meng is looking for you." Liu Zhengyang piled the selected green peppers onto the side of the plate. "The Drama Festival?"

Yu Zhu was somewhat surprised: "How did you know?"

"It's all over the college group chat. The Chinese department is releasing 'The Night Banquet of Han Xizai,' and the Western Literature Department is releasing Greek gods." Liu Zhengyang looked up at her. "What are you playing?"

"Asteria".

Liu Zhengyang paused, thought for a moment, and said, "I don't recognize it. It sounds like an asteroid."

"Pretty much," Yu Zhu said, "Goddess of the Stars."

"Sure," Liu Zhengyang nodded. "It's obvious he's not the main character."

"I don't want to be the main character." Yu Zhu pouted and lowered her head to eat.

Liu Zhengyang glanced at her: "Are you really going to shut down the lemon tea shop?"

"Yes, move out by August 10th."

"What are your plans for the future?"

"Find another part-time job nearby."

Liu Zhengyang put his chopsticks on his plate and suddenly said, "My mom's colleague is looking for a tutor for her child to brush up on history. Would you like to give it a try?"

Yu Zhu raised her head; this was the second time she had "tried" it today.

"But I'm not a history major," she said.

"You're a Chinese literature major, literature and history are inseparable." Liu Zhengyang picked up his chopsticks and took out a green pepper. "Three hundred for two hours, three times a week. His family lives near Beilin, and his child is going into junior high in sixth grade. I substituted for two math classes for him before."

He paused, then added, "If you don't have a strong sense of morality, this money is quite easy to make."

"Lack of moral sense...what do you mean?" Yu Zhu asked.

Liu Zhengyang shrugged nonchalantly: "You'll see when you get there."

Yu Zhu looked down at her plate.

Three hundred in two hours.

The scales in her heart started to whistle again. She was making lemon tea now, earning twenty-five yuan an hour; to earn three hundred yuan, she would have to stand for half a day.

Yu Zhu finished the last bite of her meal, wiped her mouth with a tissue, and said, "Then could you ask for me? I'll go check first."

Liu Zhengyang nodded, picked up his phone, and started sending messages.

Yu Zhu sat opposite him, watching him type. Sunlight streamed in through the high windows of the cafeteria, illuminating the table and making the edges of the plates gleam brightly. Her phone vibrated; Teacher Meng had sent the text to the group chat.

She clicked on it, and the first line was a voiceover.

Asteria fled Zeus and fell into the sea, where she became a drifting island.

Almost simultaneously, Liu Zhengyang turned his phone towards her to show her.

His mother's colleague replied very quickly.

You can give a trial lecture at 6:30 pm on Friday.

The address is in the Hepingmen Family Compound. Tell the gatekeeper it's Mrs. Su from Building 6.

Yu Zhu looked at the address, and after a few seconds, nodded.