Let's Get Married on the First Day of Rebirth - Chapter 19

Why is this happening? Could it be because the view count is too low?

But if the view count is too low, doesn’t that mean no one has recognized her at all?

Qu Ange couldn’t quite figure it out, but her attention was quickly drawn back to Xu Mi’s words. In the comments, Xu Mi had written that while sweet tofu pudding was indeed delicious, savory tofu pudding had a more complex and profound flavor. Different regions could even add different seasonings—those who liked spicy food could add green or red chili peppers, while those who preferred sour and spicy flavors could emphasize chili sauce and vinegar. You could also add pickled mustard greens, kimchi leaves, scallions, celery, or cilantro. In their area, they even added seaweed and dried shrimp to enhance the umami. Most importantly, the fragrance of sesame oil could blend all these complex flavors into a harmonious whole.

Qu Ange swallowed hard as she read, then turned her head and said, “You can’t post this! It’s over the word limit.”

At this time, the emphasis on Weibo was the “micro” in microblogging, meaning posts couldn’t be too long.

Xu Mi’s expression darkened. “I know. That’s why I’m trying to cut it down.”

Qu Ange said, “Why say so much? It’s just the internet. You don’t even know who’s on the other end. Just say ‘savory tofu pudding forever’ or something.”

Xu Mi froze for a moment, then replied earnestly, “‘Forever’ might be a bit too exaggerated. Actually, sweet tofu pudding is good too.”

Qu Ange: “…You really know how to stay neutral.”

Xu Mi’s mother was from the north, and her father was from the south, so she had grown up exposed to both regional tastes and didn’t have a strong preference for either. Qu Ange had always suspected this might be one of the reasons Xu Mi was such a skilled cook.

Xu Mi lowered her head in thought, then after a while deleted her entire comment. “You’re right. I think I was taking it too seriously. Everyone has their own opinions, that’s normal.”

Qu Ange said, “Why delete it? You could post it on your own Weibo. Someone’s bound to agree with you.”

Xu Mi seemed to think this made sense, so she started editing again.

She stared intently at the screen, her focus so absolute that she didn’t even notice the stray hairs brushing against the tip of her nose. She wrinkled her nose repeatedly from the irritation, like a kitten wholly absorbed in stalking its prey. Anyone who didn’t know better might think she was working on something incredibly important. Qu Ange couldn’t help but laugh and reached out to tuck the stray hairs behind Xu Mi’s ear. Then, her smile fading, she turned back to studying her own Weibo.

After much deliberation, she came to a conclusion. It was because there was no traffic funneling her way.

As a brand-new account with nothing posted except a few selfies and random photos, it was only natural that no one was seeing or discovering her. Even her future Weibo posts would need a few marketing accounts to repost them before they could hit hundreds of thousands of reposts, right?

Comforting herself with this thought, she began pondering what to do. After all, she didn’t know any marketing accounts right now. With that in mind, she decided to let it go. If this wave of attention was gone, so be it. She still wanted to focus on acting, anyway. She turned off her phone and glanced back at Xu Mi, who was typing out another lengthy essay. This time, it included not only the preparation and flavors of savory tofu pudding but also sweet tofu pudding, complete with pictures. Qu Ange couldn’t resist reminding her again: “You’re over the word limit.”

Xu Mi, flustered and annoyed, raised her voice. “I know!”

Qu Ange didn’t get angry at all. She looked at Xu Mi with a grin, thinking how adorable Xu Mi was for getting upset over such a trivial matter. She offered a suggestion: “I think you could do it this way. Don’t make the main post too complicated. Just briefly mention that there are these two options and ask everyone which one they prefer. Then, in the comments, you can post two separate replies with the recipes, saying those who like this flavor can give it a like.”

Xu Mi listened in a daze before finally saying, “You can do it like that?”

Qu Ange replied, “Why not?”

Xu Mi hesitated, “But wouldn’t that be a bit odd? What if no one reads it? Wouldn’t I just be talking to myself?”

Qu Ange shrugged, “If no one reads it, talking to yourself isn’t anything to be embarrassed about. It’s all your own business anyway.”

Xu Mi suddenly understood. “You’re right, that makes sense.”

She buried herself in editing again while Qu Ange stared out the window, zoning out. She dozed off for a while until someone shook her awake.

Blinking groggily, she turned to see Xu Mi holding out her phone, saying, “Can you check if this looks okay? Are there any typos?”

Still half-asleep, Qu Ange blurted out, “Why are you being so meticulous? It’s just a Weibo post.”

Xu Mi’s expression immediately darkened. Qu Ange snapped awake, cold sweat breaking out on her palms as she hurriedly backtracked, “Let me see, let me see.”

Xu Mi pulled her phone back. “Never mind.”

Qu Ange apologized, “Sorry, sorry! Actually, it’s good to be careful. After all, you can’t edit posts to fix typos once they’re up.”

Xu Mi didn’t respond and just posted the Weibo on her own.

Qu Ange tentatively reached for Xu Mi’s wrist, but Xu Mi twisted away. Qu Ange said, “I was wrong. Being meticulous is a good thing.”

Xu Mi retorted, “I know. I’m not meticulous—I’m nitpicky, petty, and narrow-minded, right?”

Qu Ange broke into a cold sweat. “Who said that? Impossible! Those words have nothing to do with you.”

Xu Mi turned to glare at her, eyes icy. “That’s exactly what you said on the phone last month.”

If possible, Qu Ange would have loved to slap her past self twice.

She tried to explain, “That was during an argument, right? I must’ve spoken without thinking.”

Xu Mi said, “I’ve seen a lot of people online say, ‘If you take things seriously, you lose.’ I’ve realized there’s some truth to that…”

Qu Ange rubbed her forehead. “Is that phrase already trending now?”

“What?”

“Nothing. What I mean is, people who say things like that are just irresponsible! Being serious is one of humanity’s greatest virtues—only those who take things seriously can succeed! Ah, let me repost it for you. My Weibo account gets decent traffic now, and I actually have two accounts…”

She quickly switched to the “quuuannii” account and reposted with the comment, “Both are delicious.” Then she logged into the “Tomorrow We’ll Get Married” account, searched for Xu Mi’s Weibo handle, and reposted again, adding— [The salty faction will never surrender!]

Xu Mi had initially been a bit angry, mainly because she had been reminded of past events. She had always been the type of person who received comments like “diligent and hardworking” on her end-of-term evaluations. Yet, somehow, this praise always seemed to be tied to the implication of “not being smart.” She took others’ jokes seriously, dwelled on their offhand remarks, and even during arguments, Xu Mi would accuse her of being “stubborn” and “single-minded.” She considered these her flaws, so whenever she heard such comments, she couldn’t help but take them to heart.

But Qu Ange was so quick to apologize, her pleading expression so blatant, that Xu Mi found it hard to stay angry. She stared at Qu Ange’s face for a while, noticing how the other woman’s gaze grew increasingly evasive under her scrutiny, her expression growing more and more nervous. A strange sense of satisfaction even flickered in Xu Mi’s heart. With a cold snort, she put away her phone and said, “Stop sleeping, we’re almost there. Pack up your things.”

They arrived in City S first since their hometown didn’t have an airport. They also needed to stop by their rented apartment to pick up some belongings. Once there, Qu Ange asked if they should contact the landlord about terminating the lease or subletting. Xu Mi replied, “No need. The lease was already set to expire next month. I’ve already spoken to the landlord.”

Only then did Qu Ange remember that Xu Mi had originally planned to leave for good the day before yesterday—of course she would have settled the housing issue.

She inwardly sighed in relief, thinking that this rebirth had truly come at the perfect time. Had she been even a step later, this trip would have been for nothing. As they sorted through their things, they realized there was too much to bring on the plane, and taking a train would be too slow. Xu Mi then suggested, “Why don’t we leave some things here for now? The lease still has a month left. Once we’re settled over there, I can come back and have them shipped over.”

Qu Ange, deeply moved, tried to hug Xu Mi, but Xu Mi raised a hand to press against her face and pushed her away. Despite being muffled, Qu Ange persisted, “Won’t that be too much trouble for you?”

Xu Mi shook her head, her expression indifferent.

What she was really thinking was that in a month, they’d both be returning to their hometown anyway. It would be more convenient to ship everything there directly, saving them the hassle of multiple transfers.

Of course, Qu Ange had no idea about Xu Mi’s thoughts.

They caught an evening flight and arrived in City A late at night. As soon as they turned on their phones, both devices buzzed wildly with notifications.

Qu Ange glanced at the screen and saw thousands of retweets on Weibo, mostly centered around two words.

“Sweet” and “Salty.”

Interspersed among them were a few comments like—
[Wait, doesn’t this blogger look familiar?]

The eternal debate between the sweet and salty factions—forever a hot topic.