The plan to disgust Ying Yun by aggressively pursuing him had failed, but unexpectedly, ever since Ying Yun kicked Yang Xueyi out of the nanny’s room last time, he had actually started to keep his distance from her on his own initiative.
Lately, he would leave early and come home late, as if intentionally staggering his schedule to avoid Yang Xueyi.
Although they still lived under the same roof, they hardly ever crossed paths anymore.
As for Mrs. Yang Meiying, it seemed Ying Yun had finally quieted down as well, no longer running to her to complain.
Yang Xueyi didn’t do anything, yet somehow achieved her goal of making Ying Yun avoid her like the plague.
As for her dislocated arm, the brace had been removed as scheduled.
Although she still couldn’t lift heavy objects, daily life was much easier now.
But none of that could compare to the biggest good news—
The fully furnished new apartment that Yang Xueyi and her mother had bought together was ready for early move-in!
The new place wasn’t big, just two bedrooms and a living room, but it was enough for her and her mom to live in together in the future.
Yang Xueyi had gone to see it several times and was absolutely delighted.
The company’s performance compensation came at just the right moment.
While her mom was still abroad, she threw herself into buying furniture, preparing to secretly move in.
Her plan was perfect: once her mom returned to the country, she would continue staying in the nanny’s room at Ying Yun’s house.
That way, Yang Xueyi could hide the fact she’d quit her job, and secretly move into the new apartment first.
After all, her mom would never be willing to rent the new place out to strangers.
Rather than let it sit idle, wasn’t it better to make use of it?
By the time her mom found out, it would be too late to object.
Once she found a new job, she’d come clean to Mrs. Yang Meiying—problem solved!
Absolutely perfect!
That’s what Yang Xueyi thought, and that’s what she did.
Days without that annoying Ying Yun acting as her spy were truly relaxing.
She quickly went to the home improvement market, picked out some simple furniture, and just waited for delivery and installation.
Once her luggage was moved in little by little, like an ant moving house, she could finally say goodbye to that annoying guy for good!
She hadn’t expected that even with simple furnishings, the miscellaneous expenses would still add up to a small fortune.
Staring at her bank card’s balance and thinking about the monthly mortgage payments ahead, Yang Xueyi already felt a headache coming on.
When she quit, she hadn’t imagined the job market would be this tough.
She’d sent out a ton of resumes, but most disappeared without a trace.
The few foreign companies that did respond, as soon as the HR saw her face at the interview, would frankly advise her to consider switching careers—
“With your looks, there’s no need to bury yourself in a translator’s role. There are much better prospects in other positions.”
“For example, an executive assistant or secretary at a foreign company—not only do you need excellent language skills, but also a great image. It’s practically tailor-made for you.”
Yang Xueyi knew they meant no harm, but she still politely refused them all.
She didn’t want to switch careers.
Back when she lived with her grandmother in a small town, English classes were rough, with teachers having all sorts of strange accents.
But English literature had opened a new door for her, letting her yearn for the stories in different cultures.
Many times, it was foreign literature that accompanied Yang Xueyi through the loneliness of adolescence.
The more she read, the more she realized that different translators brought different sensitivities and understandings to the text.
The same work, in different translations, could offer completely different experiences.
A good translation required not just skill, but empathy and understanding of the original author—their era, their life, their intent behind every word and sentence.
The translator had to connect with the author spiritually, and be highly proficient in Chinese to produce a truly elegant and faithful translation.
Yang Xueyi wanted to be someone who could convey an author’s thoughts across languages.
It was for this very reason that she chose to major in English.
Because of this, she had worked hard on her accent since college, earned a Level 1 CATTI certificate, and was ready to roll up her sleeves and make a difference.
But when she started job hunting, she discovered that translation had become a sunset industry under the impact of AI.
She had graduated with big dreams, hoping to use her professional skills to realize her life’s value and become a useful person to society.
Now, all she wanted was a job that matched her major, just to make ends meet.
Several translation companies did offer her a job, but the base salary was shockingly low—
“To be honest, don’t blame us for the low base salary.
These days, it’s really hard to get translation gigs for Chinese-English.”
“Unless it’s a specialized business event, most people have no need for translation. First, English is widespread enough; second, there are tons of online translation tools, plus AI-assisted translation. With those, people can get by pretty well.”
“Our agency is just barely surviving in a niche. We can only offer low base salaries. The commission depends on how much work you take, but honestly, AI is squeezing the space for translators. Not that we can’t use it ourselves—if you do written translation, just use AI to get a draft, then lightly edit it yourself. You can turn in the work quickly, don’t have to think much, and if you do more, you’ll earn more. It’s easier than interpreting…”
Yang Xueyi wasn’t unaware of using AI translation as a shortcut, but she had always disdained such work.
There was no way she would join a company with that kind of mindset.
So after sending out a pile of resumes on job sites, she ended up with nothing.
Because of this, Yang Xueyi’s insomnia had gotten worse in the past couple of days.
She tossed and turned, and when she met up with Qiao Qianqian, her dark circles startled her friend.
After hearing Yang Xueyi’s worries, Qiao Qianqian was very sympathetic: “Don’t stress too much. When the boat gets to the pier-head, it’ll go straight. Change your mindset and treat this as a gap period—just enjoy it and go out for a walk.”
At that, she suddenly remembered something: “I have a gig tomorrow at Medical University to film their centennial celebration. Why don’t you come with me? Isn’t Medical University rated as the most beautiful campus in our city? They say it’s like a garden, with little bridges and flowing water, full of classical charm. Normally, you can’t get in without snagging a guest slot through the reservation system.”
“Come on! Just help me out! When I’m working alone, there’s no one to watch my equipment.”
Yang Xueyi couldn’t resist Qiao Qianqian and finally agreed.
Medical University was close to the city library, and Yang Xueyi happened to want to borrow a few English novels.
English originals were expensive, so unless it was something she really loved, Yang Xueyi always borrowed whenever she could.
As an English major graduate, she regularly borrowed English novels to keep her language sense sharp.
The library’s imported books section couldn’t always keep up with the hottest bestsellers in Europe and America—most of the collection lagged behind the market by years.
But Yang Xueyi didn’t care about chasing trends; for her, it was just language practice—
It let her maintain an immersive English environment, and such novels weren’t too deep or convoluted, highly readable, easy to get into—perfect as a pastime.
On Saturday, after borrowing her books and arriving at Medical University, Yang Xueyi had to admit the beautiful campus made the trip worthwhile.
Students walked around in groups, faces full of youthful smiles and energy.
The centennial celebration filled the entire campus with a vibrant atmosphere, and Yang Xueyi, surrounded by it, felt her mood lift.
“Hello, are you a junior from our school? Which major? Mind exchanging contact info?”
Yang Xueyi had been admiring the scenery and was caught off guard.
She looked up and politely declined.
After the person left, Qiao Qianqian couldn’t help but come over in amazement: “That’s the seventh one today, right?”
She teased, “You really don’t have to do anything. Just standing here, you attract admirers like butterflies to a blooming flower!
And Medical University graduates are all top medical talents with very respectable jobs.
Don’t you not have a boyfriend?
Just pick one from here and your mom would be thrilled!”
Yang Xueyi wasn’t in the mood.
She waved her hand, “I can’t even find a job, let alone a boyfriend.”
“Medical University has produced so many famous people. Several of our city’s top hospital directors are alumni. I heard they’ll all be here for the centennial. And remember Ying Yun? The one from Hokkaido? If I’m not mistaken, he’s a Medical University graduate too. I wonder if he’ll show up today…”
Hearing that familiar name, Yang Xueyi paused.
Qiao Qianqian was right—Ying Yun was indeed a Medical University graduate.
But that high-and-mighty young master never attended these kinds of alumni events.
Yet before Yang Xueyi could finish feeling relieved that Ying Yun wouldn’t be there, she overheard a group of girls running excitedly toward the basketball court, chattering animatedly—
“Ying Yun is here! He’s playing basketball at the court. Clinical Medicine versus Pathology!”
“Zhong Tian from Pathology is here too!”
“Zhong Tian is so gentle and refined, but I still think Ying Yun is way more handsome. He’s just too aloof—so hard to approach. But today, I’m going to be brave and ask for his contact info…”
Yang Xueyi nearly blacked out.
Why is Ying Yun everywhere?
He’s actually free enough to come to the celebration today?
To make matters worse, as soon as Qiao Qianqian heard Ying Yun was here, she perked up and dragged Yang Xueyi straight to the basketball court: “Ever since I photographed Ying Yun, I can’t get into shooting any other guys. There’s never a chance to photograph him, but now that he’s here, I have to get some amazing close-ups!”
Yang Xueyi knew Ying Yun had always been a campus celebrity, but she’d never imagined his popularity would be this high.
When Qiao Qianqian dragged her to the crowded basketball court, the scene was honestly shocking.
It wasn’t just girls crowding the court—there were plenty of guys too.
Because of his good looks, this annoying guy even managed to win over the guys with his “gentlemanly” image.
For many girls, he was the ultimate unattainable crush.
“Ying Yun is so handsome! So handsome! So handsome!”
“Why doesn’t our year have guys like this?”
Following everyone’s gaze, Yang Xueyi spotted Ying Yun in the center of the court.
He wore a dark blue jersey, making his skin look even paler but not at all frail.
With a black sweatband on his head, his whole vibe was different from usual—apart from his usual cold, distant air, he looked a bit wild and unruly.
Out of his doctor’s white coat, he looked even more athletic—broad shoulders, strong build, and the oversized jersey only highlighted his physique.
As he ran, the jersey sometimes lifted in the breeze, revealing his lean waist and the faint outline of abs.
When he jumped for a shot, the muscles in his arms and torso flexed powerfully.
Yang Xueyi felt a little sour—clearly her mom had fed him too well, balanced nutrition and a pampered upbringing gave him this build.
Why hadn’t she thought to secretly slip him some pig feed sooner?
There were other guys on the court, some even younger than Ying Yun, but he had a certain youthful vigor that made him stand out.
Some people just have a spotlight wherever they go—wherever he was, that was the stage, and he was the undisputed main character.
The other team’s star in the red jersey must be Zhong Tian, the one the girls had mentioned earlier.
He was half a head shorter than Ying Yun, good-looking and gentle, always smiling.
On any other day, you’d call him handsome, but next to Ying Yun, he seemed ordinary.
Maybe it’s human nature—the more distant and aloof someone is, the more people want to get close.
Sure enough, all Ying Yun did was cast a careless glance at the crowd, and Qiao Qianqian beside Yang Xueyi started furiously snapping pictures—
“That look! Amazing!”
“I think he was just looking at me! He glanced over several times! Was he posing for my camera? I could die happy! Ying Yun is just that level of handsome!”
Yang Xueyi got goosebumps from Qiao Qianqian’s gushing and had no intention of watching Ying Yun any longer.