To Get Married - Chapter 47

Chapter 47

In the past, resident singers at Not An Old Friend typically earned a daily wage between 100 and 150 yuan. Those with a good image and the ability to interact well with the crowd could earn up to 200 for a half-night shift.

Mu Chenshan paid Manzhu 12,000 yuan a month—averaging 400 yuan a day for a full night’s performance. Half of that was deducted to pay off her old debt, leaving her with a fixed 6,000 yuan. To get extra income, she relied on song requests. A single request cost 50 yuan, but after passing through Mu Chenshan’s pockets, only 20 yuan would actually reach Manzhu.

In truth, request income wasn’t much. Most resident singers had a fixed repertoire, and regulars knew that if they waited long enough, the singer would likely play their favorite song anyway. But Manzhu was different; she was a “thorny rose”—beautiful, charismatic, and untouchable. The regulars didn’t need to suck up to her because they knew they had no chance, so the distance was just right.

To maximize her earnings, Manzhu kept a mental log of which regulars liked which songs. If a high-paying guest was in, she’d intentionally not sing their favorite song for a few days until they finally got impatient and paid to request it.

Taking Yudong on a two-month graduation trip had drained Manzhu’s savings completely. She wasn’t too worried, though. After six years, her massive debt was nearly paid off; in two years, she’d be debt-free. For now, she had no qualms about borrowing more.

However, she didn’t want to borrow from Mu Chenshan because he nagged like an old hen. Instead, she had borrowed 15,000 for Yudong’s first-semester tuition from Yan Zhaomu. As a creditor, Zhaomu was much quieter, which Manzhu appreciated. Still, she felt bad delaying the repayment and agreed to pay back 2,000 a month.

That left only 4,000 yuan for monthly living expenses, which had to cover utilities, Yudong’s campus meals, and pocket money. It was a headache. In short—she was poor. It felt like her early days in Yuanchuan again: nothing but a rent-free house and a constant need for new things.

So, Manzhu never missed an opportunity to make money. Since everyone wanted to hear Yudong sing and the girl was willing, she wasn’t going to let her do it for free.

Yudong knew a song request was 50 yuan. If the money bypassed Mu Chenshan’s pocket, she could earn three or four hundred yuan just by singing a few tracks! The thought thrilled her. Excluding the time she handed out flyers in middle school, this would be the first time she earned money using her actual skills.

The regulars, having watched Yudong grow up, were more than happy to support her “debut.” Yudong sat at the request station and chose songs she had heard Manzhu sing many times.

Though she lacked professional training and was only half a semester into her freshman year, Yudong had a secret weapon. While her technique was raw compared to the seniors who worked there during the summer, her voice was crystal clear. She sang without artifice, but with a natural emotion that pierced the heart. It was like an elf singing by a moonlit stream; the wind, water, and insects all seemed to hum in harmony.

Manzhu watched her, a smile spreading through her eyes like a leaf rippling on water. The rest of the world faded away.

The unusual voice drew in the regulars who usually preferred the quiet corners. Seeing it was Yudong, they couldn’t help but marvel at how fast time flew. That night, purely for the novelty, the 50-yuan tips kept rolling in. Yudong sang until she was tired, at which point Manzhu took over.

Checking her phone after stepping down, Yudong found she had earned nearly 1,300 yuan between Alipay and WeChat. She was so excited she wanted to sing all night, knowing this was a one-time “novelty” windfall.

Mu Chenshan sat next to her and whispered, “You two really know how to play the system.”

Yudong stuck her tongue out playfully. “Thanks for the venue, Little Uncle!”

“Don’t let it happen again,” he grumbled.

“I won’t! Next time we go by the rules—60/40 split. You get 60, I get 40.”

Mu Chenshan nodded, then added, “One more thing. You’re a big girl now. Can you change how you address me?”

Yudong blinked.

“You keep calling me ‘Uncle’ this and ‘Uncle’ that… it makes me sound ancient.”

Yudong tilted her head, considering. They stared at each other for a few seconds before she asked, “Little Uncle, what does your ID card say?”

“Thirty… thirty-four?”

“You’re sixteen years older than me! ‘Little Uncle’ is perfectly fine,” Yudong said. “What else should I call you? Brother Mu? Big Brother Mu? Little Brother Mu…?”

Some titles were so cringey they made Mu Chenshan choke. He cleared his throat. “On second thought, I’m used to it. Don’t change it.”

Yudong giggled and opened her dorm chat.

“The Pretty Girls’ Concentration Camp 415”

Dongdong is getting rich: When did the group name change again?

Gaining Word Counts: [Blaming others] Liujing changed it this afternoon.

Yangyang needs to lose weight: [Blaming others] Liujing changed it this afternoon.

Moe Girl (Liujing): Is it not true? Pretty girls!

Moe Girl: [Meme: I carry a beauty I shouldn’t have at this age]

Dongdong is getting rich: [Meme: Wake up!]

Moe Girl: I passed a piano room today and saw a total hottie. But I hadn’t washed my hair so I couldn’t go in to flirt. I don’t even know his major.

Yangyang needs to lose weight: You’ll run into him again.

Dongdong is getting rich: Yeah.

Moe Girl: He’s a masterpiece. I finally understand love at first sight!

Dongdong is getting rich: What about Senior Kaiyu?

Moe Girl: I’ve moved on!

Yangyang needs to lose weight: We saw Kaiyu live; his vocals were shaky. All the good parts were post-production. Instant un-follow.

Moe Girl: But today’s guy is gorgeous. I took a spy photo. Yudong, take a look.

Yudong opened the photo. It was a side profile taken through a window. The angle was terrible, yet the boy’s features were so sharp they transcended the bad photography. He was arguably the most handsome man Yudong had seen besides Mu Chenshan and Yan Zhaomu.

Mu Chenshan, about to leave, caught a glimpse of Yudong’s screen. Seeing her looking at a “hottie,” he immediately went on high alert. He glanced at Manzhu on stage and his brain raced: Should I snitch? They finally got rid of Zhang Ziyun; if a boy showed up, Manzhu would be cranky for years.

“What are you looking at?” he asked, leaning in.

Yudong jumped. “It’s… it’s just a student at my school. Someone took a photo at the piano room.”

“Oh? How does he look?”

“Very handsome,” Yudong said honestly.

Mu Chenshan “oh-ed” thoughtfully. “Do you feel your heart racing?”

“Little Uncle!” Yudong shoved the chat logs in his face. “My roommate sent it! She wants to chase him!”

“I see. You can’t steal a roommate’s man,” he said solemnly. “Yudong, if you ever like a boy, tell me. I’m an expert; I won’t tell your sister. I can help you vet him and plan your strategy.”

Lies. He’d snitch to Manzhu the first chance he got.

“Some people look good but are rotten inside. You’re young. Not every handsome man is as pure and harmless as your Little Uncle. Do you understand?” He paused, then added one last tip before leaving. “Oh, by the way… don’t limit yourself too strictly to one gender.”

Don’t limit yourself to one gender?

Yudong stared at his retreating back, wondering if she had misheard or if she had somehow been exposed. Then she remembered Mu Chenshan was a “senior” in that regard, so it made sense coming from him.

Moe Girl: Yudong! Where is she?

Yangyang needs to lose weight: Probably admiring your ‘masterpiece.’

Moe Girl: You can’t steal him! I saw him first!

Gaining Word Counts: Are you going to pursue him?

Moe Girl: Of course!

Dongdong is getting rich: I almost died! My Little Uncle saw the photo! He thought I liked him and interrogated me! He said if I like someone, I should tell him so he can help me ‘vet’ them.

Moe Girl: [Confused face]

Dongdong is getting rich: I’m at my Little Uncle’s bar.

Moe Girl: A bar!

Yangyang needs to lose weight: You don’t seem like the type!

Dongdong is getting rich: It’s a quiet bar. Very traditional style.

Yudong sent some photos of the empty bar. The roommates were intrigued. They had never been to a bar, thinking they were only for “bad girls,” but Yudong explained it was just a nice place to chat and listen to music. They agreed to visit the following weekend.

Yudong smiled to herself. She couldn’t wait to see the expression on Ye Liujing’s face—the Exorcist—when she realized she had walked into a den of demons.

Back at the dorm, Ye Liujing had already developed a “chase plan.”

“You’re just going to chase him? Isn’t that too…” Yudong couldn’t find the right word. Shouldn’t girls be reserved?

“Yudong, if you wait for them to come to you, the food will be cold! Just because you see him doesn’t mean he sees you!” Liujing said. “In novels, timing is everything. If you don’t show up in front of him and fight for yourself, how will you get into his heart?”

“She’s right,” Tang Qian said, opening her bed curtains. “Even if it’s mutual, if no one takes the first step, you’ll drift apart. Being active is better than waiting.”

Yudong felt a sudden sense of crisis. Timing is everything… if you aren’t active, someone else will take the lead.

What kind of person would Manzhu like? If someone confessed to her, would she give Yudong a “brother-in-law”? Yudong realized she couldn’t accept that. Should I be more active? But how do I move from her eyes into her heart? What if I crash and die at the doorstep of her heart?

She was so lost in thought she missed the rest of the conversation until Tang Qian began her “Momsie’s Love Classroom” (though she was a ‘Peony’—perpetually single).

“First,” Tang Qian said, adjusting her glasses, “you need ‘accidental’ encounters. After a few, use the coincidence to get his Q.Q or WeChat. Post subtle life updates. If he likes your posts, he’s interested.”

“What if there’s no reaction?” Yudong asked. “Is it over?”

“Maybe he’s shy! Or maybe he doesn’t check his feed. You have to compliment his hair or clothes when you meet. If he wears the same style next time, he’s trying to please you.”

Yudong asked, “What if you meet often? Like, every day?”

“Then you start the ‘offensive.’ Try light physical contact to see if he flinches. Or go to the cafeteria together—tell him you prefer veggies and ask to swap your meat for his greens. If he doesn’t mind, he likely likes you.”

“And!” Tang Qian added. “If you’re always the one initiating, stop for three days. See if he comes looking for you.”

Yudong was taking frantic mental notes. “What if… what if the physical contact is already frequent, and you already share food all the time? How do you ‘attack’ then?”

The dorm went dead silent. All three roommates turned to stare at Yudong.

“Lu Yudong! You have a situation!”

“No… no, I don’t! Let me explain…!”