Chapter Thirteen: If You're Not Doing Well, Please Let Me Know

A boutique love hotel had opened above the CBD. Put simply, to be blunt: a “hook-up inn.” The guests claimed to come for the sake of romantic experiences, but everyone knew the truth—it was all about sex, and the rooms were stocked with every conceivable adult novelty.

How did Yang Meng know about this place? Well, he’d delivered takeout here more than once!

He remembered the first time he’d come, and someone opened the door holding a whip to collect their food. It had given him quite a shock—was the delivery late and he was about to get whipped as punishment?

After a few more deliveries, though, nothing surprised him anymore. Relationships these days were nothing like the innocent stories in books.

Even for someone as slow as Yang Meng, it was obvious something was wrong.

Say no more—time to retreat like a ninja turtle!

Yang Meng walked out of the CBD like a zombie and sat on the edge of the fountain at the entrance, lighting a cigarette. The feeling was as awful as tearing the toilet paper mid-wipe—he’d thought everything was under control, only to be disgusted by the person closest to him.

He had no words for the events of the day. Out of nowhere, he became the Emperor of the Eastern Peak; when he thought he was trapped in the underworld, a mysterious stranger sent him back to the mortal world; upon returning, he found his motorcycle stolen; then, as he was brooding over his loss, someone showed up at his door with a hundred thousand yuan; and just as he was starting to feel happy, he discovered he’d been utterly betrayed by the one he loved.

He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

What a ridiculous day!

Yang Meng had no idea how long he sat by the fountain. When he reached for the last cigarette in his pack and pulled out his phone, he thought of calling Hu Erleng and the others to go drinking—friends and alcohol, the best painkillers in a time of need.

Just as he picked up the phone, a voice called from behind him: “Darling? What are you doing here?”

Before the words faded, a fragrant body flung itself onto his back. Yang Meng didn’t need to look—he knew exactly who it was. The voice, that familiar touch, impossible to mistake.

Yang Meng frowned without a word. Wang Xin’nuan peeked over his shoulder and kissed his cheek, asking, “Darling, why aren’t you saying anything?”

He set her down from his back. “What are you doing here?”

Wang Xin’nuan was briefly surprised, then smiled. “I’m tutoring a child who lives nearby. Her parents work late, so I stayed longer to keep her company and wait for them to come home. It’s for the child’s safety.”

Yang Meng let out a long sigh. Even now, she was still lying? Women truly were born actors.

He shook his head. “Nuan Nuan, I saw everything.”

“Hm?” Wang Xin’nuan’s expression changed, but she forced a smile. “Saw what? Why are you acting so strange?”

Yang Meng silently pointed at the CBD building.

Wang Xin’nuan froze. After a moment of silence, she showed a look of resignation, took a box of slim cigarettes from her purse, and lit one with practiced ease.

Yang Meng was stunned—she’d always hated his smoking, but the way she handled that cigarette made it clear she’d done it countless times.

Wang Xin’nuan exhaled a perfect smoke ring. “I smoke. Is that so strange? There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”

A hint of bitterness crept into Yang Meng’s heart. After a long pause, he finally asked, “Why?”

She shrugged. “Why? What’s so strange about it? If I can sleep with you, why not someone else? Sleeping with them gets me paid. Sleeping with you gets me what, exactly? Besides, who I sleep with is my choice. You have no money, no car, no house. If it hadn’t been for your good looks and the fact that you’re decent in bed, do you think I’d have stayed with you this long?”

Yang Meng stared, speechless. Was this really the woman he’d fallen for? The face that used to appear in his dreams now seemed so unfamiliar.

Wang Xin’nuan looked at him and sneered, “Hmph, look at you being all precious. So what if I sleep with someone else? My other boyfriends don’t care, but you suddenly have a problem? Fine, let’s end on good terms. The world keeps turning, with or without us. We’ll both be just fine apart. What, you want to wallow here and disgust everyone else? Come on, people need to be carefree these days. You stay here as long as you like, I’m leaving.”

With that, she turned to go, as if Yang Meng were the one in the wrong.

But after a few steps, she stopped, turned back. “Aren’t you going to stop me? If you do, we can pretend none of this ever happened, and go back to how we were. How about it?”

Yang Meng frowned. “Why?”

She replied, “Sleeping with them is for money. With you, it’s for fun. I know I can’t go on like this forever—it’s just making the most of my youth. In the end, I’ll marry a good, honest man. You’ve always treated me well. I can feel that. I’ve known lots of men, but only you have truly cared for me. Why not just pretend you never found out, and we start over?”

Yang Meng sighed, saying nothing.

She pressed, “Well? Have you decided? Can you give me an answer?”

He shook his head. “Did some honest guy dig up your family’s grave? Is this what I get in return for loving you and treating you well? Thanks, but I’ll have to refuse.”

“Why?” she demanded. “Just because I slept with other men? Where can you find a pure girl these days? You always knew I’d been with other men before we got together. You didn’t mind then, did you?”

Yang Meng sighed, “Xin’nuan, purity isn’t about how little you know, but about how much you hold fast to. But you’re right—life goes on for both of us. Let’s break up.”

She frowned. “Don’t you think it’s a shame to only ever sleep with one person your whole life?”

Yang Meng nodded. “Maybe it is a shame. But losing the one you love most because you slept with someone else? That’s the real tragedy.”

“You!” Her eyes widened, but then she laughed. “You’re right. Fine, let’s leave it at that. We can still be friends, right?”

Yang Meng shook his head. “No, from today on, we’re strangers.”

“Why? Even if we break up, we can still be friends, can’t we?” she asked.

He waved his hand. “Impossible. Two lines only cross once. Once missed, they’ll never meet again. We can never be friends.”

“Tch, loads of people stay friends after breaking up,” she protested.

Yang Meng tossed his cigarette to the ground and walked away, calling back, “That just means they never truly loved each other. If you ever fall on hard times, give me a call.”

“Hmm?” She sounded a little smug. “So you do still care about me?”

He answered as he walked, “No, it just means I’ll know you finally had your day.”

As Yang Meng walked away, her voice echoed behind him, “Remember—it was me who dumped you, not the other way around! I gave you a chance and you didn’t take it! You, a lowly delivery boy—only someone as soft-hearted as me would ever be with you! You’ll be a loser your whole life! You’ll regret this!”

He waved a hand to show he heard, but didn’t look back, leaving the CBD behind.

Yang Meng had thought about calling Hu Erleng to go drinking, but as he pulled out his phone, a sudden sense of clarity swept over him. Why bother drinking? Was this even worth the pain?

Breaking up with Wang Xin’nuan was a blessing! Staying with her would have been the real tragedy. This was freedom!

Besides, he was now the Emperor of the Eastern Peak! A good life awaited him. Regret? Who knew who would end up regretting it!

With that thought, he felt much lighter and hailed a cab to his rented room.

He lived in the so-called “Xinmin Lane,” and even the taxi driver gave him a strange look as he got out.

Yang Meng could understand that reaction.

Xinmin Lane was one of the city’s “urban villages,” right in the heart of the old city, a prime location. Yet the rent was incredibly cheap, making it a haven for migrant workers.

By rights, rent here should have been sky-high, given its central location. But the buildings were so rundown that low rent was inevitable.

Years ago, during the first wave of old city redevelopment, this area was slated for demolition. That should have been good news, but it sparked chaos: the residents were dissatisfied with the compensation and staged protests and demonstrations.

To be fair, the compensation was quite generous—many residents could have become overnight millionaires. As it was the first batch, the authorities wanted to set a good example. But people are greedy; they always want more.

In the end, the result was: no demolition.

The reason? The buildings were declared historic and protected as cultural heritage.

Too old to live in? No problem! The government invested in repairs—restoring them to look just as old as before. The troublemakers were left stunned, their prospects for a windfall vanished overnight, and the residents became the laughingstock of the city.

Still, thanks to them, the rest of the city’s redevelopment proceeded smoothly—they had set a “good example.”

Even more frustrating: the government’s restoration mandate was “as old as before.” From the outside, the neighborhood looked picturesque, but to actually live in those buildings? Only two words sufficed: pure misery.