Chapter 135: Kind People Deserve to Be Blessed

Sun Jingyao was momentarily stunned by Cheng Xiaoyu’s final remark. Her fountain pen trailed a long, black diagonal line across her notebook, as if tearing another shallow yet stinging wound into her mended heart.

Watching Sun Jingyao’s bewildered expression, Cheng Xiaoyu wondered if he had been too cruel. People with religious faith are often happy, as they find easy solace and satisfaction, yet such fanatical devotion is also pathetic.

For any religion, "faith" is paramount—belief must come first. Everyone is a sinner, and one can only be justified through faith. But what is this faith? It is the blind denial of everything hostile to God; stripped to its core, it is brainwashing. God tells you that believers attain eternal life; Shakyamuni tells you that the faithful cultivate a future life.

How does one truly believe? It is to serve God with one’s heart; it is total surrender.

Religious faith acts as an effective antidote for those with personality flaws or a tendency toward paranoia, but like any medicine, it has its side effects. Having faith is not inherently bad, but slipping into obsession is certainly not good.

Cheng Xiaoyu was no psychologist and could not be certain of Sun Jingyao’s state of mind. Not wanting to watch her stray further down a path of obsession, he could only offer a word of warning, hoping that in her search for light, she wouldn't be consumed by the flames.

Cheng Xiaoyu hadn’t intended to spout platitudes or guide a lost lamb back to the flock. Feeling that the situation had veered off course, he sighed inwardly and said, "Never be an escapist, because avoidance offers no help. The best arrangement is to work within the world without being lost in it. Work for five or six hours, then completely forget it. Dedicate at least two hours to your inner growth, and a few hours to your relationships—love, family, friends, and society. If you can laugh at yourself when you encounter setbacks, then everything will be fine. People laugh at others, but never at themselves. If you can laugh at yourself, seriousness vanishes. If you can laugh at yourself, malice cannot take root in your heart. Strengthen your own spirit, then use wisdom to deal with provocation. A person shines precisely because they are in the dark. Do not pursue light or justice; you yourself are the flame, you yourself are the judgment. When you one day climb higher and higher, stepping over the bodies of those who slander you today, you will realize how ridiculous your current cowardice is. They are merely fleas in your palm, squirming obsequiously. If you feel miserable, then resist; if you harbor pain, then move forward. If you can only lament, what is the meaning of being alive?"

Cheng Xiaoyu watched as a pale-faced Sun Jingyao stood up. He had said all he could; what kind of life she chose to lead was not something he could interfere with. The food on his plate remained half-eaten, which he found a pity. But he had no interest in continuing to play mentor to someone else’s life, so he softly said, "Goodbye," to Sun Jingyao and left the booth.

The moment he stepped out, Cheng Xiaoyu looked back at Sun Jingyao under the yellowed spotlight and saw a reflection of himself shortly after graduation—struggling in this realistic world, full of confusion. But ultimately, this is a secular world where only the strong can attain freedom and dignity.

Returning to his small desk, Cheng Xiaoyu opened his computer and searched for Sun Jingyao on Baidu. The results were filled with salacious scandals and provocative photos. Most of the news concerned a director surnamed Li claiming a certain sexy starlet had seduced him; while no names were mentioned, it was obvious to everyone who it was.

Cheng Xiaoyu scrolled down. Aside from the racy photos and tabloid gossip, there were few other traces of this girl on the internet.

Finally, after flipping through more than twenty pages, he clicked on a broken link via a Baidu snapshot. It led to an early interview where she explained that she had dropped out of school to become a model to support her sister, who suffered from uremia. Yet, there is so much misfortune in the world that Cheng Xiaoyu could not afford to be overly sentimental. After all, Sun Jingyao only saw her own misfortune, failing to realize that she was already fortunate enough to have the ability to save her sister.

Cheng Xiaoyu closed Baidu, intending to check his Whisper account, when "Old Ganma" tapped on his desk, handing him a note and a stack of money. Cheng Xiaoyu looked up at her stern face and said calmly, "It isn't work hours yet."

Tao Bihua raised an eyebrow. "Then go buy it the moment your shift starts."

Cheng Xiaoyu had no choice but to take the money, feeling a profound sense of defeat.

During his free time in the afternoon, Cheng Xiaoyu wrote out the score for the song he planned to perform tomorrow. The song had come to mind after he read Sun Jingyao’s background; perhaps it would be a fitting gift for her, as her spirit of sacrifice for her sister was something Cheng Xiaoyu respected.

That night at home, he practiced the song for a long time on his cheap guitar. Before going to bed, he sent a text to Sun Jingyao: "Come watch my assessment tomorrow! I have a song for you."

On the other side of the city, Sun Jingyao lay in bed, picked up her phone, and replied, "Oh!" She thought of the Little Match Girl, and after reading Cheng Xiaoyu’s text, she tossed and turned all night, unable to sleep. The notebook containing Cheng Xiaoyu’s words from the day rested beneath her pillow. *I suppose I’ll have to cancel tomorrow’s schedule,* she thought silently.

Cheng Xiaoyu drew the heavy curtains, shutting out the twinkling starlight from his small sanctuary. He climbed into bed, reached out to turn off the light, and let the darkness swallow him. The only sound in the air was the faint hiss of the air conditioner.

In this world, kind people deserve to be blessed.

***

For the Production Department, today was the moment to test the results of a month’s labor; for the Planning Department, it was the time to test the fruits of a month’s training. For Cheng Xiaoyu, it was the moment to escape the torment of Old Ganma.

On the 67th floor, the Planning Department had a small theater that could seat dozens, which doubled as a dance studio when the chairs were moved. This was the venue for the new artist assessments and the testing ground for those recommended by managers.

As for the music works managed by the Production Department, the internal review was conducted by the department heads in the morning, away from the public eye. They would keep the pieces they deemed acceptable and send them to the artists for selection; naturally, the more famous the artist, the greater their priority.

When Cheng Xiaoyu asked Old Ganma for leave at noon to attend the review, she was quite surprised. She hadn’t expected him to secure an audition opportunity so quickly, which made her feel she needed to re-evaluate his background. Consequently, she smiled and agreed to his request without giving him any trouble.

Cheng Xiaoyu carried his "loser" guitar toward the 67th floor. By the time he arrived, the small theater was already packed. Every month at this time, the company tried to minimize other work so staff could watch the assessments. The company even encouraged this behavior and allowed everyone to email their opinions to the Planning Department.

In reality, most people were just there to look at the beautiful women and offered no substantive advice to the higher-ups. Everyone knew the boss’s beautiful daughter was among the newcomers. Of course, no one dared to have designs on Su Yuxi, and the company wouldn't allow staff to date artists, but that didn't stop people from enjoying the scenery.

When Cheng Xiaoyu walked in, the performances had already begun. The theater was packed tight. At a glance, he saw the other interns from his cohort watching. He scanned the room but didn't see Sun Jingyao, nor did he see Su Yuxi or Xu Qinning. On stage, a young, handsome male singer was performing. A banal, trashy song sounded even more vapid coming from his lips. Cheng Xiaoyu squeezed into the aisle against the wall, finding it more comfortable to stand leaning against it.

The recommended performers were scheduled after the artists, so there was still a long wait. The real show had only just begun.