Chapter 2- Common Someone Committed Suicide

Yue-Yue had a sharp tongue. Wu Qi Qiong had long grown used to seeing this side of her. He bent down, picked up the bag she threw, and smiled, leaning softly into her arms.

“If you don’t like me like this,” he said gently, “I can lose weight for you.”

“Don’t waste your time,” Yue-Yue shot back. “It’s not about ten or twenty kilos of fat. You can lose weight, but your stinginess is hopeless! Shopping with you means chasing discounts. At the supermarket, you’re always asking for special prices. You rent rooms without air-conditioning. My friends all have their own cars—and me? I’m still squeezing onto the bus and subway like a fool!”

Wu Qi Qiong, still calm, tried to coax her: “Beijing traffic is awful. Oil prices are so high—driving isn’t even worth it.”

Yue-Yue wasn’t angry—just cold. “Exactly. You earn just over 2,000 yuan a month. With prices in Beijing? It’s not cost-effective to even have a girlfriend. So let me help you save money—let’s break up.”

Wu Qi Qiong’s voice dropped low. “It’s not about money. I don’t mind spending it on you.”

“Oh yeah? What’s there to even spend? A couple thousand yuan?” Yue-Yue scoffed. “You live like a beggar. If you tried hard enough, you’d be snoring into a bowl of bean juice and pickles! Graduates from top universities are barely scraping by, while junior college dropouts are driving BMWs. You can’t afford one? Fine. At least a Passat?”

Wu Qi Qiong took out a paper towel and gently wiped the sweat from her forehead. “Don’t worry. Don’t worry. We’ll buy one in a few years.”

“In a few years?” Yue-Yue’s eyes burned. “You plan to buy a car on your dead-end salary? Just look at your family's broken-down bungalows—are you not ashamed bringing me here for dinner? Wu Qi Qiong, you’re endlessly poor. How poor? Just saying your name makes me choke. Fine, go in and tell your mother we’ve broken up.”

She turned to go, but Wu Qi Qiong pulled her back. They struggled. From the yard next door, dogs began barking at the commotion.

“There’s really no room for change?” Wu Qi Qiong’s eyes reddened.

To be honest, Yue-Yue had a foul mouth, but her heart wasn’t truly cruel. If she were, she wouldn’t have waited until today to say goodbye. Seeing Wu Qi Qiong’s face—still soft, still pleading—tugged at her heart. She felt intolerable guilt. But deep inside, it all felt… not worth it. Sooner or later, she would need to wield this knife. Might as well cut clean now.

“Wu Qi Qiong,” she said, voice quieter but firm, “I don’t think you’re poor. I hate you for not being ambitious. You haven’t done anything in all the years we’ve been together. Even if you shouted at me or fought back once in a while, it’d at least feel like something! But no—you’re always steady and silent. And frankly, it’s exhausting.”

She paused.

“You’re a pestle in a nest. Solid, dull, and immovable.”

Under the streetlight pole behind Yue-Yue, there was a broken brick. Wu Qi Qiong stared at it blankly. Suddenly, he remembered a novel he once read—Changing the Done Deal (朝三暮四). The hero had smashed a brick over his own head again and again to prove his love.

“I can die for you,” Wu Qi Qiong suddenly whispered.

Yue-Yue blinked, then burst out laughing. “If you’re not going to die for me, maybe give me a show. Cut your arm or something—I’ll honor you!”

Wu Qi Qiong trembled. He walked slowly toward the pole, bent down, and picked up the broken brick. His hands shook like dry bamboo in the wind. He turned back to Yue-Yue, his lips trembling.

“I… I really will do it. Don’t regret this.”

Yue-Yue glanced at him sideways, unimpressed. She didn’t take him seriously. She turned her head and walked away.

BANG!

Yue-Yue stopped short, her feet slamming the pavement. She spun around. Her face went pale with shock.

Wu Qi Qiong had collapsed on the ground, his body twitching. Blood trickled from a gash on his forehead.

“Da-Qiong! Da-Qiong! Don’t scare me! Someone—help! Someone’s tried to kill himself!”

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