Chapter 3: Zhou Qing

“Hey, hey, Xiao Zhou, I have some good news for you.”

In the office of the neighborhood committee, Zhou Qing, who was sipping tea and reading the newspaper, looked up. A middle-aged woman with a red armband stood at his desk, her round face beaming with delight.

“After you all finished dinner yesterday, Jiajia came down and told me all about it!”

Her tone rose with excitement. “From what she said, she really likes you, and she’s eager to set up the next meeting.”

She was practically bubbling over with enthusiasm, while the person involved, Zhou Qing, barely reacted. He swallowed his tea slowly and smiled. “Really? When I had dinner with her, she didn’t seem in any hurry.”

“Oh, you sly one, playing humble after getting lucky, aren’t you?” The woman tapped her fingers on the desk. “My niece isn’t someone you can easily impress—she’s very picky, could find fault with an egg. For her to lower her standards and come looking for you, that’s as rare as the sun rising in the west. You’d better seize the opportunity…”

She went on, chattering away, as if she’d just been awarded a medal by the God of Matchmaking himself. Zhou Qing didn’t interrupt her, only responding with an occasional “mm-hmm” as he continued his work.

The woman’s name was Qin Hongmei. She’d worked at the community service center for over a decade, making her a veritable senior among the staff. By rights, after so many years of service without any promotion, her status as a senior was somewhat begrudging, but Qin Hongmei had never been ambitious. Now, approaching retirement, she’d given up on career advancement entirely.

More than a senior, she was the office’s big sister, and her greatest hobby was introducing the new hires to potential partners.

The neighborhood committee had mostly middle-aged staff, so her matchmaking skills had long gone unused. But this year, three single young colleagues had finally joined. As soon as they started, she’d sized them up.

The first was Fu Chenghao, who’d come in as a specially selected candidate: tall, handsome, and striking. Qin Hongmei’s first encounter with him wasn’t even at the new employee orientation, but in a news article titled, “Why Did a 985 Master’s Graduate Join the Neighborhood Committee?”—it had even trended on social media at the time.

Some lamented the inflation of educational credentials; others complained about social injustice. But the seasoned old hands knew the truth.

For high-achievers like Fu Chenghao, joining the community center was just a way to gain grassroots experience. He might just be a minor functionary now, but in three to five years, he’d use this experience to leap up the career ladder. In short, he was a solid bet for future success—his potential written all over his face.

The second was Li Jie. Compared to Fu Chenghao, he was unremarkable in looks, education, and ability, but he had one outstanding merit—his family owned seven apartments.

No one quite knew why someone like him would bother working at the committee. Maybe he just wanted to gain a bit of work experience, or perhaps his family wanted him to have something on his resume. Qin Hongmei didn’t care about the reasons; her only curiosity was when this golden bachelor might finally be caught.

With one high-achiever and one “rich second generation,” Qin Hongmei felt as if she’d recruited two legendary generals to her cause. Her enthusiasm soared—surely there was no romantic tie she couldn’t arrange. And yet, upon the high ground that was Qin Jiajia, her efforts had utterly failed.

Two matchmaking attempts had ended in disaster, and Qin Hongmei was more anxious than her own niece. Looking around, she realized only Zhou Qing was left as a viable candidate.

Compared to the other two, Zhou Qing’s background was almost too down-to-earth. Qin Hongmei only half-heartedly recommended him, treating him as a last resort. But to her astonishment, the previously impregnable fortress suddenly lowered its drawbridge: not only did her niece take the initiative to chat with him, she was now asking to visit him as well.

If she hadn’t already worked alongside Zhou Qing for months and gotten to know his disposition, Qin Hongmei would have suspected he’d somehow enchanted her niece.

“Xiao Zhou, you really need to give this some thought—this isn’t a trivial matter…”

Qin Hongmei’s tone was earnest. “You’ve met her—Jiajia is beautiful, well-educated, and she’s got a stable job. With a girl like that, you won’t get another chance like this…”

She was always loud, but now her excitement had upped the volume another notch. Even Fu Chenghao and Li Jie, sitting nearby, couldn’t help but turn and listen in.

“What? You mean that Qin Jiajia you mentioned before? Zhou, you actually won her over?” Li Jie clicked his tongue in amazement, a hint of jealousy in his voice. “She really is gorgeous, but hard to please. When I tried to send her a red envelope, she sent it right back. Zhou, how did you do it?”

“Girls like her usually aren’t after money—they’re looking for a feeling, for emotional value,” Fu Chenghao analyzed coolly. “That’s not my game. Maybe Zhou is good at this sort of thing.”

“Oh come on, Fu, with your looks and your top-shelf degree, you’ve got girls lining up for you. Who needs emotional value?” Li Jie waved a hand dismissively. “But seriously, Zhou, you’re full of surprises! At this rate, are we going to be eating your wedding candy soon?”

The conversation in the office grew livelier by the minute, twisting and turning through every possible topic. Zhou Qing just sipped his tea and watched, the warm liquid spreading a faint bitterness and fragrance in his mouth.

In his memory, matters of romance had always been a tacit taboo among mortals, and “courtship” was something never discussed openly. If someone talked about it outside their home, it was as scandalous as airing an explicit film in public, bound to draw gossip and censure.

He never would have imagined that centuries later, mortals would so freely discuss love and relationships in public. The changes in the human world truly astonished him.

Yet he didn’t mind it. Having traveled half his life as a cultivator, he’d seen all manner of heroes and wonders, but scenes like this, brimming with everyday life, were rare in the world of cultivation. He liked this mortal bustle.

In positions like his, idleness was the norm—sometimes a whole day would pass without any real work. With a bit of chitchat, some tea, a newspaper, the afternoon would arrive before he knew it.

When the clock on the wall pointed to half past four, the office was already filled with the sounds of people gathering their things. As soon as five o’clock struck, everyone poured out from every exit, like sheep escaping a shepherd’s dog.

Zhou Qing put away his thermos and joined the crowd leaving the office. Exiting through the side door, he was greeted by a lush street lined with willows and ginkgoes.

On the nearest tree to the office, a bamboo birdcage hung from a branch. As he approached, the cinnamon-gold songbird inside fluttered its wings in greeting.

“Congratulations and prosperity! Congratulations and prosperity!” it chirped, every word clear and precise.

“You’re a thrush, don’t imitate those mynahs from the courtyard,” he chided, gently tapping the bird’s head through the cage before taking it down from the branch.

It was just about time for a walk with his bird.