A leisurely life starting in a bar after being reborn

When Fu Yan arrived home, Fu Jianguo was wiping down the Wuling Hongguang in the yard.

To call it "wiping" is an understatement; it's more like saying goodbye to an old friend—he opened the car door and carefully wiped the dashboard with an old towel, not even missing the crevices on the steering wheel.

"Dad, why are you wiping it?"

"Clean it up, and once the new truck arrives, take this one back and give it to Old Zhao; he needs someone to haul goods."

Looking at the rusty bread truck, Fu Yan thought that even if he gave it to Lao Zhao, Lao Zhao might not dare to accept it.

Back inside, Liu Meilan was making dumplings.

"Mom, I won't be eating at home tonight."

Where should we eat?

"Go find Chen Jian and Liu Yuan; we made an appointment."

"Liu Yuan's back?" Liu Meilan paused in her dumpling-making. "He's coming back for Chinese New Year this year? I thought he wasn't coming back from Yanjing."

"I don't know, that's what Chen Jian said."

"Then you two should have a good get-together. It's been years since you last met, hasn't it?" Liu Meilan pointed to the plate next to her with her flour-covered fingers. "I'll bring you some dumplings as a snack with your drinks."

"No need, we'll eat out."

"Bring some, bring some. Chen Jian's mom's dumplings are definitely not as good as mine. Let that kid have a taste too."

Fu Yan couldn't refuse her, so he took a thermal container and filled it with mackerel dumplings.

After changing her clothes in her room, Fu Yan looked at herself in the mirror—a black turtleneck sweater, a dark gray coat, and her hair, though unkempt, looked quite smooth after it dried naturally.

Okay, it's not like I'm going on a blind date.

……

Little Fatty's Restaurant.

Back when Fu Yan and his friends were in high school, the most popular little restaurant near the school gate was run by a man nicknamed "Little Fatty." In reality, he wasn't fat at all; on the contrary, he was as thin as a stick. But his cooking skills were truly amazing—a single serving of spicy diced chicken could make you eat three bowls of rice, and his braised eggplant was even tastier than meat.

It's been many years since I last came here, and the restaurant is still there, with the same old signboard. However, the paint on the facade is peeling off even more, and the plastic lanterns at the entrance have been replaced with cloth ones, making it look even more shabby.

Fu Yan pushed open the creaking wooden door, and a strong smell of cooking oil hit him.

It still tastes the same.

The front hall wasn't large, with seven or eight tables crammed together. In the corner stood an old 21-inch television, which was playing the evening news. Including Fu Yan and a few others, there were three tables of guests in total. Two of them were clearly from a nearby construction site, wearing cotton-padded coats and drinking baijiu (Chinese liquor).

There were two people sitting at the table furthest inside.

The bald guy is Chen Jian. He'd changed his clothes and was wearing a brown leather jacket; he looked much more energetic than when he was in the kitchen that afternoon. Sitting next to him was a tall, thin guy wearing glasses…

Fu Yan slowed down a beat.

Liu Yuan.

It had been over seven years since I last saw Liu Yuan, but he hadn't changed much. He still had that long, thin face and those silver-rimmed glasses, only his hair had changed from a buzz cut in high school to a side part, making him look more like a proper white-collar worker. He was wearing a navy blue down jacket over a white shirt, with the top button fastened, clearly the kind of person who worked for a respectable company.

Chen Jianxian saw Fu Yan, stood up, and waved: "Over here!"

Liu Yuan also turned his head, paused for a second, and then slowly smiled.

"Fu Yan."

"Liu Yuan."

The two looked at each other for two seconds, and instead of hugging like Fu Yan and Chen Jian, they simultaneously reached out and shook hands.

Liu Yuan's grip was stronger than Fu Yan had imagined.

"Sit down." Chen Jian pushed the menu over. "Order first, we can chat while we serve the food."

……

Four dishes: spicy diced chicken, braised eggplant, hot and sour shredded potatoes, and garlic scallops. Two bottles of Niulanshan Erguotou (a type of Chinese liquor).

Fu Yan placed Liu Meilan's mackerel dumplings on the table: "My mom asked me to bring these, saying that Chen Jian should try her cooking."

"Auntie's dumplings must be delicious!" Chen Jian's eyes lit up, and he immediately asked the waiter to cook them in the kitchen.

The wine was poured, and the three of them clinked glasses.

"Let's start with one." Chen Jian held up his glass. "A toast to the four of us. Zhang Hao can't come because he's in the army, but if he were here, he could definitely drink more than the three of us."

"Respectfully." Fu Yan and Liu Yuan responded simultaneously.

Niulanshan liquor burns your throat but warms your stomach. This is the drink you need in the winter in this coastal city—it's potent.

Setting down her cup, Fu Yan looked at Liu Yuan and asked, "Tell me, how have you been these past few years?"

Liu Yuan pushed up his glasses and smiled.

His smile is the same as it was in high school—a little shy, but his eyes reveal intelligence.

"Me? I got into Liaoning University after graduating from high school, and I studied computer science, the same major as you."

"I know, we even talked on the phone when we were applying to universities."

"Yes, you told me to study computer science, saying it had a promising future. You even said you wanted to study computer science too. I never expected you to actually go to Yanli University and get into Stanford." Liu Yuan looked at him, his tone full of admiration, "You're really something."

"Stop talking nonsense, I'm talking to you."

"Okay." Liu Yuan took a sip of his drink. "After graduating from university, I went to Beijing and worked for two years at a small internet company, doing web development and backend systems. Later, I switched to my previous company, you know? The search engine company."

"I know." Fu Yan nodded.

The company I previously worked for is currently the number one search engine in China, making it the undisputed industry leader. While it has since declined somewhat, it was at its peak in 08, considered a top-tier player in the internet industry.

"After joining, I started as a regular programmer, and was promoted one level after two years. After another two years, I was promoted to deputy manager of the technical department last year."

"Deputy Manager?" Chen Jian's eyes widened. "So how much do you earn a month?"

Liu Yuan hesitated for a moment, then held up three fingers.

"Thirty thousand?!" Chen Jian nearly jumped out of his chair. "Thirty thousand a month?!"

"A monthly salary of 28,000 yuan, plus year-end bonus and stock options, brings in about 350,000 to 400,000 yuan a year."

Chen Jian was completely stunned.

He works long hours in Bincheng, cooking from dawn till dusk, earning only 30,000 to 40,000 yuan a month during peak season and 10,000 to 20,000 yuan during off-season, making a maximum of 200,000 to 300,000 yuan a year. Meanwhile, Liu Yuan sits in his office typing on a keyboard and earns nearly 400,000 yuan a year.

Fu Yan was not surprised.

In 2008, this income was considered normal for a mid-level technical staff at a leading internet company in Beijing. Ten years later, the annual salary for the same position would be several times higher, but that's a matter for the future.

"You're doing well." Fu Yan patted Liu Yuan on the shoulder.

"It's alright." Liu Yuan pushed up his glasses again. "It's just tiring. 996, sometimes even more brutal. Working overtime until the early hours of the morning is common, and when a project goes live, I've worked three days straight without stopping. A while ago, I had some problems with my cervical spine, and I went to the hospital for an X-ray. The doctor said that if I keep doing this, I'll be in a wheelchair by the time I'm thirty-two or thirty-three."

"So what do you think? Are you going to continue?"

Liu Yuan held his wine glass without saying a word, staring at the wine in the glass for several seconds.

"I don't know," he said. "Sometimes I feel ridiculous. I earn 400,000 yuan a year, but I can't afford a house or a car in Beijing. I work overtime until late at night every day, and when I get home, there's only a bed and no one to talk to."

When he said, "There's no one to talk to," his voice softened, as if he were talking to himself.

Chen Jian understood what he meant and leaned closer: "You don't have a boyfriend either?"

"no."

"I don't have any either," Chen Jian sighed.

The two of them looked at Fu Yan at the same time.

Fu Yan raised her hands: "I didn't either."

The three of them were silent for two seconds, then burst out laughing at the same time.