2 A Fierce Battle

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Mother Nie Rushuang asked Si Mingming about the outcome of her blind date. Si Mingming replied, “He was pretending with me—”

Nie Rushuang struck her hand. “Don’t use foul language!”

Si Mingming endured the slap and fell silent, sitting aside. The blind date left a bad impression—from the man’s tardiness to his arrogant demeanor, it all struck Si Mingming as laughable. She wondered where this man’s sense of superiority came from; the resumes headhunters had pushed to her subordinates were far more impressive than his.

Nie Rushuang ceased her questioning and instead said, “What about Aunt Song…”

“We’ve met. Yes, we’ve met,” Si Mingming interrupted, offering a straightforward answer.

Sun Jingru glanced back at her with a hiss, “No, give me a straight answer today—do you really want to get married?”

“Yes. It’s such a wonderful life experience.”

Since the thought of marriage had surfaced, Si Mingming no longer resisted the idea, but she was not in a hurry. To her, whether she married or not, it was all a matter of experience. She was eager to explore: what exactly is marriage?

Her married friend Zhang Lele commented, “Your mindset isn’t right; you’ll end up at a disadvantage in marriage.” Her unmarried friend Zoey Lu declared, “What’s the point of that broken marriage!” Lu Manman insisted on being called Zoey because she disliked her given name’s somewhat old-fashioned ring. Whenever the three spoke in their group chat, it was a clash of ideas, yet after years of friction, they remained inseparable. When Zhang Lele got married, Lu Manman flew back from America to be a bridesmaid alongside Si Mingming. While Zhang Lele wept uncontrollably, Lu Manman teased, “Don’t forget, your name is Lele.”

“I’m Mingming, so I understand everything? You’re Manman, so you have to be slow on the uptake?” Si Mingming shot back.

“Playing with homophones, are you?” Lu Manman grabbed Si Mingming’s arm and twisted hard. They nearly ended up in a fight.

Despite their differing opinions, once Si Mingming entertained the idea of marriage, both friends couldn’t help but share profiles of “eligible” and “good men” with her. Si Mingming felt like she was flipping through a restaurant menu; these men all seemed much the same. So she posted in the group, “Why don’t we make the criteria more specific—not just a ‘good man who’s alive,’ but a man who is alive, good, and good-looking.”

Zhang Lele protested, “Hey, is your language really that unfiltered?”

“Weren’t you the one telling me to send you little toys?” Lu Manman retorted.

Si Mingming interrupted, “Wait, why didn’t I know about these ‘little toys’?”

“You will soon,” came the reply.

This snippet of conversation happened on the very day Si Mingming first considered marriage. Now, as her blind date went awry, Nie Rushuang decided to cast a wider net. She reminded the aunts: the man must be reliable, earn slightly more than Mingming, and be decent looking… She remained completely unaware that Si Mingming’s standards had evolved to: lively and attractive.

While mother and daughter discussed, the doorbell rang. Nie Rushuang went to answer it, and Si Mingming took the opportunity to grab her bag and head out. She overheard her mother say, “I’ll help you open the package!”

“Go ahead!” Si Mingming replied.

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Si Mingming thought the package was the earrings she had ordered a few days ago. However, the savvy Nie Rushuang carefully examined the box after opening it, blushing deeply before tossing it aside. Curiosity got the better of her; after a moment, she picked it up again, muttering, “It’s not illegal to take a look.”

The elderly woman was quite adept online, searching the product name on a shopping site and reading the descriptions. Words like “delicate,” “silky,” and “explosively satisfying” flooded her eyes.

Nie Rushuang wondered: how exactly is “explosively satisfying” satisfying?

Had her daughter really come to this point? As a mother, she seemed to grasp something profound and added a note to her old friends: when introducing someone for Mingming, the person must be physically healthy. “Healthy,” she implied, with a knowing hint.

The old friends, being street-smart women, immediately understood and responded enthusiastically: “Of course! She’s young, she can’t be a widow forever!”

Nie Rushuang was pleased with their insight. Yet the package had become a hot potato. After much thought, she decided to adopt an open-minded motherly stance, unwrapped the item, and placed it in the drawer beside Si Mingming’s bed. To make sure her daughter wouldn’t miss it, she messaged, “It’s in your bedside table.”

“What?” Si Mingming asked.

Nie Rushuang sent back a suggestive emoji. Si Mingming was puzzled but had no time to dwell on it; a more pressing matter awaited.

On this typical Sunday afternoon, Si Mingming was urgently called back to the company for a secret meeting. Before it began, Vice President Wu Yinan half-joked, half-serious, “We planned to have everyone sign a confidentiality agreement first, but since everyone here is of impeccable character, we’re skipping the legal formalities.”

The meeting was about a restructuring that had been kept tightly under wraps. In truth, it was a layoff. Wu Yinan immediately assigned Si Mingming a 20% reduction target. In the past, the business department had been dominant in staffing decisions, but now all eyes turned to Si Mingming, saying, “Please have your department submit a plan quickly; we will follow through.” No one wanted to be the bad guy, pushing the usually “unsympathetic” and “unapologetic” Si Mingming into the spotlight.

Si Mingming had anticipated the upheaval.

When she went to Shenzhen for a meeting, the HR boss suddenly cornered her in the conference room and asked probing questions. With her keen instincts, Si Mingming knew these questions signaled an industry “shockwave.”

“We can’t use a one-size-fits-all approach,” Si Mingming said. “There’s already been too much negativity; we need to be rational. Let’s discuss department by department.”

“No, business is really tight. You decide,” said Chen Ming, head of wireless operations.

Si Mingming spread her hands. “If I had such divine powers, the last promotion in Ming’s department wouldn’t have turned out the way it did.”

Chen Ming looked at the carefree Si Mingming and engaged her in a contest. Finally, he raised his hand jokingly, “We’re both ‘Manager Ming,’ but Teacher Si clearly wins. We’ll follow your lead; I’m always available.”

Si Mingming mirrored his raised hand but kept a serious expression. “I’m counting on you.”

When she left the company, it was already evening. The streets were nearly empty, the neighborhood growing increasingly desolate day by day. She remembered her first day as an intern here—the area had been bustling with traffic. In just eight short years, she felt she had witnessed the rise and fall of an empire. Ahead lay a protracted battle, a colossal challenge that tested her emotions, morals, and professionalism.

“Even someone as mediocre as me can board the great ship of the times,” she had inexplicably posted in the group chat—but no one replied. Zhang Lele, still dwelling on last night’s lingering feelings, silently regretted it. Lu Manman was hosting a farewell party at her white boyfriend’s place before returning to the country. Si Mingming wasn’t surprised by the silence; she knew her two “unreliable” friends were likely tied up with something.

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Back at home, she recalled Nie Rushuang’s message and opened the bedside drawer to find the little toy that had traveled across the seas. Imagining her mother’s various reactions made Si Mingming smile. She couldn’t help but laugh softly.

She studied the toy again, pressing a button that emitted a faint electric hum. Si Mingming pretended to simulate how it might feel, closing her eyes to imagine—but she failed.

She didn’t like this thing. It might serve as an occasional solution, but it would never become a lasting tool.

She expressed her feelings honestly. Lu Manman finally saw it and replied, “Then why not pay for services, Manager Si? You can afford it, right? Young, fresh, clean, innocent bodies?”

“That’s why Mingming wants to marry—she needs someone lively and good-looking,” Zhang Lele finally recovered from her disappointment. They never shied away from discussing human “desires.” Zhang Lele vented about the previous night’s frustrations, and both Si Mingming and Lu Manman instinctively asked, “Did Bai Yang cheat?”

“Can’t be, he has no money,” said the naive Zhang Lele. That night, Bai Yang had tried hard but repeatedly failed. On the last attempt, Zhang Lele pushed herself so hard her jaw ached. They succeeded at last, but it felt like someone handing her plain water when she was hypoglycemic—she wanted to drill a hole in that person’s head.

Yet they all knew that whether a man cheats has no necessary link to his financial means. It’s simply a matter of human nature. Each pondered this differently. Lu Manman urged Si Mingming to try the toy. In her words: “We must be honest with our bodies, treat them kindly, listen to their feelings and cries. When necessary, reboot them!”

Clean and refreshed, Si Mingming lay in bed, her gaze drawn involuntarily to the bedside drawer and the little toy. Curious, she took it out and fumbled in the dark to switch it on, slipping it inside her pure cotton pajamas. The vibration brought a novel sensation, like electric currents flowing. Just as she was about to agree with Lu Manman’s suggestion, she recalled her mother’s reactions when she placed it in the drawer.

Si Mingming felt as if one of her secrets had been seen through by the closest person to her—like a teenager’s diary read by a mother who now held all emotional cards. This was hard to accept, and her body suddenly went cold.

With a sigh, she tossed the toy back into the drawer, then heard her phone ring three times in quick succession. Opening it, she saw three messages.

The first was from Chen Ming in the business department: “I can send you the list directly.” Si Mingming replied, “No.” Everyone knew why not. If Chen Ming sent the list now, it would be factionalism, and Si Mingming would take the blame.

The second was from Lu Manman: “Prepare to kneel and welcome the queen back home!” Si Mingming replied, “Welcome.”

The third was from Nie Rushuang, who sent a photo and said, “He’s really good-looking, but it’s a pity—so many tattoos. Doesn’t seem like a good guy.”

The man in the photo was handsome, with a thick, close-cropped buzz cut, no unnecessary grooming, head tilted as if talking to someone unknown while being photographed secretly, exuding a roguish charm. Si Mingming recognized the tattooed arm—so unruly.

Still editing her message, she saw Nie Rushuang’s next pointed comment: “That body looks really good.”

“Really good,” Nie Rushuang repeated once more.