Luo Ming had Chen Sichu drop him off at the entrance of CCTV.
He put on his mask, got out of the car, and dialed Lin Shuyue’s number.
“Wenwen?”
“Hey, sis, where are you?” Since Lin Shuwen hadn’t minded him getting close to Lin Shuyue yesterday, Luo Ming felt even more natural calling her “sis” today.
“I’m at the station! Aren’t you supposed to be performing as a guest at the concert? Why do you have time to call me?”
“The concert fell through.”
“Huh? What happened?”
“Zhou Ping got into a car accident last night…”
After hearing Luo Ming’s explanation, Lin Shuyue’s mouth twitched. That was just too absurd.
“Sis, I’m right downstairs at your TV station. If you have a moment, want to chat about the show?”
“Sure, I’ll be right down.”
A few minutes later, Lin Shuyue came downstairs and led Lin Shuwen to her office.
The office wasn’t very big—only about five or six square meters—and from the looks of it, it was originally part of a larger office that had been split by a soundproof wall.
“I’ve heard that partitioned rooms are a major feature of Beijing, but I didn’t expect they’d go as far as partitioning offices inside the CCTV building.”
“What nonsense are you talking about! It’s just that the station is short on office space!” Lin Shuyue said with a hint of annoyance.
“A building as big as CCTV is still short on space?”
“Can’t help it when there are too many people working here.”
“Fair enough.”
“Want something to drink?”
“Just water—I need to protect my voice.”
Lin Shuyue nodded and handed Luo Ming a bottle of Wahaha mineral water.
“Why mineral water?”
“The station gives out mineral water for free. No point in not taking it.”
Luo Ming paused for a moment. The way Lin Shuyue said that sounded so much like Lin Shuwen, and with their eyes being so similar, he couldn’t help but picture Lin Shuwen saying those exact words.
“Wenwen, I organized the things you mentioned yesterday. Take a look!” Lin Shuyue handed a folder to Luo Ming.
Luo Ming took the folder and began helping her revise it.
The two of them spent the entire day in Lin Shuyue’s office discussing the show’s details.
Luo Ming filled in all the gaps in Lin Shuyue’s incomplete proposal with everything he remembered from the show in his past life—inviting directors of major museums, what types of celebrities to feature, which national treasures to showcase in later episodes—he covered it all.
Lin Shuyue’s eyes sparkled as she listened. She hadn’t expected her younger sister’s show concept to be so well-developed.
It was polished enough to be used directly as a working proposal.
“Wenwen, you’re amazing. I think when the show airs next year, we absolutely have to put your name in the writing credits.”
“No need for that! I’d rather not draw too much attention in that area.”
“It wouldn’t sit right with me if you don’t get credited as the writer. You could come up with a pen name or stage name, though.”
“A pen name or stage name? Then let’s go with ‘Zhuo Guang.'”
“Zhuo Guang? Did you take that from the famous line in Yao Chong’s ‘Autumn Night Gazing at the Moon’—’The radiant branches gleam so bright, the dewy grass glistens in the light’?”
“Exactly. It’s also the name of a company I’ve invested in.”
“You’ve invested in a company too?”
“Yeah, a game studio. Once they finish their game, I’ll send you a copy.”
“Awesome! Then I’ll be looking forward to your company’s game.”
They exchanged smiles.
That evening, Lin Shuyue took Luo Ming to a barbecue skewer joint.
This was Luo Ming’s special request.
Lin Shuyue wasn’t really keen on barbecue and skewers, but since “Lin Shuwen” wanted it, she wouldn’t say no.
It wasn’t that Lin Shuyue didn’t like barbecue—she just felt the heavy cooking fumes smell would be bad for her skin. After all, she was already 27 and nearing 30, so she had to be extra careful about skincare.
As for why Luo Ming insisted on barbecue—well, it was to teach Lin Shuwen a little lesson.
The last two times he’d been in her body, the first time he’d been stuck eating nothing but vegetables for a whole week after turning into a rabbit, and the second time she’d had her period, which tortured him for two days straight.
This time, he was determined to gain at least five pounds and give Lin Shuwen a taste of what it’s like to be prone to weight gain.
Luo Ming ordered 20 skewers of lamb, 20 skewers of beef, 20 skewers of grilled pork belly, and a big rack of lamb chops. Today, he was going all out.
At first, Lin Shuyue held back for the sake of her skin and didn’t dare to indulge.
But after a couple of skewers, her cravings got the better of her. The two “sisters” ended up eating until they were completely stuffed.
That night, Luo Ming stayed over at Lin Shuyue’s place.
Lin Shuyue had bought this apartment in 2010 using the station’s housing quota. It was just over 70 square meters and cost a little over 900,000 yuan. She’d put down a 400,000 yuan down payment and took out a mortgage for the rest.
“900,000 yuan for a 70-square-meter apartment in Beijing? That’s such a steal. No wonder it’s CCTV—the benefits are amazing!” Luo Ming sighed as he lay in bed.
Meanwhile, Lin Shuwen was still hard at work in front of her computer.
She’d initially thought that since she’d gotten the hang of C++, writing a calculator program wouldn’t be too difficult.
She’d even subtly asked Rong Mu about it, and he’d said he could write a calculator program himself.
Lin Shuwen remembered Luo Ming’s assessment of Rong Mu’s programming skills: “Amoeba level—anyone slightly more evolved would be better than him.”
So Lin Shuwen dove into writing the calculator program with confidence.
But from 10 a.m. all the way to 10 p.m., her code just wouldn’t run. No matter how she tweaked it, it kept failing.
Lin Shuwen started to question her life choices. Was she really worse than an amoeba?
The truth was, Lin Shuwen was definitely better than an amoeba.
Her mistake was trusting Rong Mu’s words.
There was no way Rong Mu would honestly tell “Luo Ming” that after only four months since graduation, he’d already forgotten all the programming languages he’d learned. If he admitted that, Luo Ming would never let him live it down.
Lin Shuwen was the type of person who, once she set her mind to something, had to see it through.
When she first entered the entertainment industry and was filming Director Liu’s TV drama, Director Liu felt her smile wasn’t sweet enough and lacked the vitality of a young woman. So Lin Shuwen stood in front of a mirror and practiced smiling for an entire day.
When she was too nervous and reserved while singing, she forced herself to go to the park every morning where the elderly folks exercised and practiced projecting her voice.
Now that her calculator code wouldn’t run, Lin Shuwen burned the midnight oil, revising it over and over again.
Before she knew it, the time had slipped from 10 p.m. to 3 a.m.
She couldn’t even remember how many times she’d rewritten the code.
Finally, the calculator program ran!
Lin Shuwen typed “1+1” into the input box, and the calculator immediately returned the answer “2.”
She clenched her fists in excitement. She typed in more arithmetic problems—addition, subtraction, multiplication, division—and after testing, everything worked perfectly.
Lin Shuwen let out a long sigh and slumped into her chair. Right now, she had only one thought: thank goodness tomorrow’s Sunday and she didn’t have to go to work.
It was already 3 a.m., and she couldn’t be bothered to wash up. She just collapsed onto the nearest sofa and quickly fell asleep.
