Arthur Vance asked me to deliver ultra-thin condoms to him again, and my mother saw the message. She paused and said, "I'll deliver them for you." "I was 40 when I finally had you. No matter how much I pamper you, it's never enough. I can't bear to see you suffer, so I will deliver them for you." At that moment, I decided to give up on Arthur Vance. Later, everyone was surprised that I no longer revolved around him. Someone asked me why. I stayed silent for a long time, only pursing my lips. "My mother would be heartbroken." 1 Arthur Vance booked a hotel room and forgot to bring ultra-thin condoms again. By the time his message reached me, it was already past eleven at night. As it happened, I was in the shower, and my mother saw the message. When I came out, the air was exceptionally stagnant. The message on the phone sitting on the coffee table was glaringly bright. [Mia likes the strawberry-flavored ones. Bring them to me within half an hour.] My mother didn't know how to read many words. But he had sent a voice message. Probably holding a grudge because I had snatched one of Mia's clients last time, his message this time was particularly explicit. The air grew a bit heavier. My mother kept her head down, lost in thought. She was silent for a long time before she said to me: "If this is the boy you like, then I'll deliver them for you." "I was 40 when I finally had you. No matter how much I pamper you, it's never enough. I can't bear to see you suffer, so I will deliver them for you." The lighting in the room was dim, but the white hairs on the top of her head were incredibly conspicuous. I had liked Arthur Vance since high school. I followed him to a major university in New York. Later, I joined his family's company and got a high-paying job. He treated me well, gave me gifts on my birthday, and paid me a high salary. When I first joined the company and was given a hard time while negotiating a deal, that person came to apologize to me the very next day. Some people were jealous and made snide remarks to my face: "Getting in through the back door really is different. She's going to be Mrs. Vance, you know." I actually believed it a little too. There were many people coming and going around him. When he needed something, I delivered it; when he didn't, I took the money and handled things for him, one by one. Only Mia lasted the longest. Arthur liked her so much he wanted to marry her. Following behind him for so many years, I had endured a lot of hardship. But in this singular moment, I suddenly felt it was all quite meaningless. "I've decided to give up on him." I said to my mother. As I spoke, I blocked Arthur's number. The phone rang a second later. His tone on the other end was exceptionally casual: "What's the meaning of this? If you're going to throw a tantrum, now is not the time. I'm waiting to use them here." "Oh, and when you get here, remember to apologize to Mia face-to-face." 2 The apology was because I had signed a huge contract, but Mia claimed it was her client. As soon as the little girl cried, Arthur lost his mind. He docked two months of my salary, fired my entire department, and reassigned me to a different role. The project I had worked hard on for half a year went completely down the drain. When I confronted him, he just chuckled lightly. "Your job was handed to you through connections anyway, what's there to be a pity about?" "As for those people, what good projects could they possibly do following you? If they had real talent, they wouldn't be working on your projects anyway." Even though a few days had passed, thinking back on it still made me feel breathless, my heart twisting in pain. Embarrassing and humiliating. I lowered my eyes and replied to him: "I will not apologize to her. If you are really that angry, then just fire me." The other end was silent for a moment, then he let out a casual laugh, a hint of displeasure in his tone. "Fine. As long as you can actually let it go." I didn't know if he meant the job, or him. 3 I chased after Arthur Vance for ten years. Anyone with eyes could see I was madly in love with him. He transferred back as a senior in high school. Probably because he couldn't take the college entrance exams as a non-resident student in New York, he came back. Aristocratic, outstanding. That was everyone's first impression of him. That year was also when I was at my most wretched. At the time, my face was covered in acne, my personality was withdrawn and unlikable, and my family was poor. The apartment we rented was on the shady side of the building, the clothes hung out to dry never saw the sun, and I always had a lingering smell of fish on me. Nobody in class liked me. But he voluntarily became my desk mate. Perhaps out of pity or sympathy, he always taught me how to solve problems I couldn't wrap my head around, and then would add: "I realized you're actually really smart." When people gossiped about me, he would hand me an earbud. It wasn't playing any music, but a niche comedy podcast where a comedian was yelling in an earth-shattering voice: "People like this should be struck by lightning, why don't you all just go die!" Also, when I frantically drank cold water to save five dollars on lunch, he would transfer two thousand dollars to my meal card. Then he'd say casually: "It's just the price of one of my shirts, pay me back when you start making money." At first, I was terrified and uneasy; I felt I didn't deserve this kindness. Later, I comforted myself, thinking that I was just too unlucky, too unfortunate, and that was why Arthur Vance was sent to save me. After that, we talked about everything. The year I graduated from college, I was preparing to look for a job. At the time, a saying was popular online: Good jobs only circulate through networks and bloodlines. Unable to hold back my frustration, I mentioned it to him. He was just silent for a moment, then slightly raised an eyebrow and adjusted his collar. "I am your network. You can come work with me." He was my best friend. It was only natural that I liked him. I was too ashamed to say it out loud. But maybe I made it too obvious, or maybe he was smart enough to see through people's hearts. Late one night, he called me. "Emergency. I fell in love at first sight with a girl, but I didn't bring anything. Can you deliver some to me?" At that moment, my brain buzzed, completely blank. My throat went dry, and I couldn't even speak. After a long silence, I asked him: "Why me?" He laughed lightly and replied: "You're my best friend. If you don't help me, who will?" Finally, he asked seriously: "You'll come, right?" In the adult world, a hint is often enough. By saying this, he was telling me to put away my feelings for him. If I had cussed him out right then and hung up the phone, we would have never crossed that line; we would have forever remained just friends. But for whatever reason, I still went. It was raining heavily that day, the drainage system had failed, and the water was almost up to my calves. Perhaps it was a self-defense mechanism, but I forgot how wretchedly I braved Arthur's obscure gaze to hand him the items. I also forgot how I walked out of that hotel. I only remember the woman in the room asking curiously: "Who is that?" Arthur scoffed lightly: "Just an ordinary subordinate." "Wow, it's really not easy being a corporate slave." The subway had stopped running, and the rain was so heavy I couldn't even get a cab. I didn't bring my ID, so I couldn't book a hotel room. I could only trudge toward home, taking deep steps and shallow ones in the water. The wind in New York whipped against my face like a dull knife cutting meat. My whole body was numb. It took me three hours to walk home from the hotel. After getting back, I developed a high fever. Later, I got an ear infection. It was also that day my mother called me. She said she wanted to come and keep me company. Arthur's voice also came through the phone. As frivolous and certain as always. "You'll come, right?" I didn't reply to him, I just hung up the phone. I wouldn't go. Not now, not ever. 4 The heavy rain was pattering outside the window, and my ear started to hurt again. The pain spread very quickly, making even my scalp ache fiercely. I instinctively pressed my temples. My mother stood there, looking at me, somewhat at a loss. She hadn't been very happy living in New York these past few years, always acting overly cautious. She always felt guilty that she couldn't help me with my career, so while I was supporting her, she self-taught herself to read my moods and act accordingly. It was a complete role reversal. I forced myself up, pretending not to care: "Don't worry about me. That's not someone I like, just a pure capitalist boss." "You know how competitive New York is. I have friends who still have to babysit for their bosses after work." She didn't speak, and her expression didn't relax. I knew she didn't believe me. After all, I had been in New York for so many years and had climbed higher and higher in my career. Even the higher-ups had to show me some respect and wouldn't give me attitude. But I really didn't have the energy to explain anything anymore. When I was in school, I used to tell her everything—what I ate, what I drank, what happened at school. I told her everything. But over the years, as I focused entirely on chasing Arthur, a wall gradually seemed to build up between us. Separated by an invisible distance, I couldn't open my heart to her; I didn't know what to say to her. I just said softly: "Mom, really, don't worry about me. I've wanted to quit for a long time." "It's late, let's both go to sleep." I turned around, but a voice, almost choking with sobs, came from behind me. "But I can't not worry." "I went to your company to find you, and I saw him bullying you." My head throbbed harder and harder; I didn't have the mental capacity to think about which time it was. "I went to find him. I wanted him to treat you better. But he told me that you got into the company through the back door anyway, that you had already achieved what many people couldn't even reach, and that taking a little loss was a blessing. He said it's a good thing you're a smart person." "But, having a mother like me is really unlucky for you." 5 Resigning required going through the formal process. When I got to the company, I realized my position had already been taken by Mia. When she saw me, she smiled with a clear conscience: "I just shed two tears, and Arthur gave me your position. He said I'm his favorite canary." I wasn't angry, and I asked her back in a calm tone. "Isn't Arthur supposedly inseparable from you? Aren't you two going to get married? Why are you calling yourself a canary?" "What? Are you so used to being a mistress?" "Don't you look down on me!" Hearing this, as if her sore spot had been poked, her young face twisted somewhat strangely. "You still don't know what Arthur said about you, do you? He said your motives were impure, your abilities were lacking, and he's wanted to kick you out for a long time!" "You shouldn't feel it's unfair. After all, the capable ones rise to the top." "Whether it's in the workplace or in bed." She had originally been keeping her voice down, but perhaps anger went to her head, and her voice got louder and louder. Those two words, "in bed," were practically shrieked out. The corporate culture at Vance Group was intense; most people were so busy they barely had time to drink water all day. But at this moment, everyone stopped what they were doing and fixed their eyes on us. Sticky, damp. Feeling the gazes of everyone around her, her entire face flushed bright red. It made me think of the first time Arthur looked at her; she had been just as easily startled. Her thoughts were shallow, and her methods of stirring up trouble were brainless. I often guessed when Arthur would have me give her the breakup fee. Arthur had little patience, liked novelty, and his girlfriends were a constant revolving door. Every visible part of his body was always covered in women's hickeys. Maybe this time it was true love. Even now, I still didn't understand why Arthur liked her so much. Mia gritted her teeth but didn't dare say anything more. She grabbed the thermos on the desk, intending to smash it in my face. But she forgot she was wearing high heels and a tight pencil skirt. In the early years, before Arthur had a firm foothold in the conglomerate, I often attended business dinners on his behalf. I wore either dresses with high slits or pencil skirts, teetering on stilettos. I hated it, so as soon as I had a little power, I immediately changed the rules. I advocated for everyone to wear trousers and suits for formal occasions, and casual wear for daily life. So her movements were very slow; the skirt restricted her steps. I grabbed the thermos with almost no effort. Then I smashed it hard toward her face. When it was five centimeters away from her face, I stopped. Facing her terrified eyes, I smiled. "Sorry, this is my cup." "Chloe, I didn't know you had it in you." A scoff came from behind. I turned around and met Arthur's slightly mocking gaze. As if coming back to her senses, Mia's tears fell rapidly. "She's too arrogant. She was going to hit me." "What are you crying for? I'll let you hit her back, okay?" Mia broke into a smile through her tears and aggressively stepped toward me, wanting to slap me. I, however, was exceptionally calm. I didn't know what kind of existence I was in Arthur's heart. I felt he must have been brainwashed by love to so brazenly use me as a tool to please Mia. So this time, the thermos didn't smash into Mia. It smashed into Arthur's face. Mia frantically covered Arthur's face and said sharply: "Are you crazy?" Surrounded by chaos, I looked at Arthur's incredulous eyes and said: "If you want to call the police, I will cooperate. Get a medical evaluation; I will pay for the medical expenses." "I quit." 6 My friend Sarah called me after learning I had resigned. "Don't do anything impulsive. It's really hard to find a job right now. There are more and more college graduates every year, wave after wave of young people. If you leave Arthur, you really won't find a job this good ever again." "I know you're angry, but who doesn't get angry working for someone else? You need to look at the bigger picture!" It felt like my head was pumped full of air; her words, filtered through the sound of the rain, sounded hazy and unclear in my ears. Sarah used to have a fiery temper in her early years and wouldn't tolerate any injustice. When she first found out I was working for Arthur, she cursed me out in the exact same tone. "Arthur is using you as a meat shield! He takes you to every drinking party, makes you wear short red dresses to drink on his behalf. Have you ever looked in the mirror? Do you know you're actually quite pretty?" "He's using you, don't you see that?!" I saw it very clearly. But I also gained a lot. As long as I was working, if I wasn't being used by him, I'd be used by another boss. What's more, Arthur was more generous than any other boss. I was willing; I hypnotized myself into accepting it. So at the time, I replied to her: "It's even sadder not to have any value to be used." I was full of confidence then, but thinking about it now, I wasn't thinking clearly enough. I should have "looked at the bigger picture" like she said. For example, Arthur was very generous to me, the annual salary he gave me was high enough, and I had a car and a house in New York within a few years of graduating. I was already a winner in life. What did a little grievance matter? For example, I was just delivering something to add to the fun. Maybe other bosses would make even more outrageous demands. For example, liking him was entirely one-sided on my part. He had no feelings for me whatsoever. Having me do these things meant he truly saw me as a friend. Many times, I was used to convincing myself this way. But this time, I took it seriously. I kept thinking. When my mother heard Arthur's frivolous tone ordering her daughter to deliver condoms to a hotel, what was she thinking? During that minute of silence when she heard Arthur say she was useless to me, what was she thinking? I realized that in that moment, I was in more pain than ever before. That scene seemed carved into my brain, constantly stinging me. I couldn't close my eyes and keep chasing after Arthur anymore. I couldn't look at the "bigger picture." 7 I deleted all of Arthur's contact information. And sent him a resignation letter using my work email. It wasn't until the next day that he replied. [Denied. Come to work as usual tomorrow.] I laughed in anger. So what if I don't go? If you have the guts, keep paying my salary and social security forever. I rented out my apartment in New York. The location was good, the rent was low, and I found a tenant the first day I listed it. I bought the apartment in my third year of working, and Arthur paid a large portion of it. At the time, Arthur told me: "Those old men in the Vance family are like wolves and tigers. Let me give you a sense of security." "You've been strategizing for me since graduation. Times were tough back then, and I didn't pay you a dime. Now I'm making up for it." We decorated the apartment together. He said self-righteously: "I'll be spending a lot of time here in the future, so it needs to be decorated to my tastes." The lock was a keypad, and he knew the passcode. Only, he never came over again after that. ... My mother had very few belongings. She acted like a guest, always afraid of inconveniencing me. The shoes she wore were always disposable hotel slippers, and she used a very thin towel to wash her face and shower. I was very busy, so I just gave her a lot of money and told her to buy things herself, but she never bought anything. Even when she came to visit me, she took a hard seat on a train for over ten hours alone. I bought two plane tickets. This was my mother's first time on an airplane. She followed closely behind me. I could feel she was very happy. Even after sitting on the plane, she kept staring out the window. Once a person is idle, their mind becomes active. I couldn't help but start objectively reviewing this relationship with Arthur. I had no friends around me, and my contact list, apart from Arthur, was silent year-round. After that rainy night, I considered myself to have parted ways with him. But the very next day, he broke into my house and aggressively took me to see a doctor. Later, some of the women around him were a bit malicious toward me, and he always liked to let me suffer a bit to appease them. Afterward, he would give me some compensation. When he was unhappy, he liked to cut contact. He wouldn't reply to a single message, and acted like a stranger at the company. Every time, I would scroll through my messages one by one, trying to see if I had said something wrong that made him unhappy. Just when I was about to let him go, he would aggressively intervene in my life again. Sometimes he would give me an uncut gemstone ring, sometimes a pearl necklace. When the mood struck him, he would even personally cook a meal for me. And then casually mention: "I was too busy the past few days." "But to me, you've always been unique." His rejections were never complete; he always gave a blow followed by a sweet treat. He didn't want me to pester him, yet he was afraid I wouldn't. If I was despicable, he was by no means noble. The plane broke through the clouds, and the city grew smaller and smaller. I wouldn't be coming back. I could no longer drag my feet, carefully maintaining this relationship. Never again.
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