Chapter 99 – Extra: Brother Shancha and the Coworker
As the strongest worker bee of Baihua Village, Meng Shancha had set a very clear goal for himself since childhood: make big money and improve the village’s economic conditions.
So the moment he graduated from university and an overseas assignment opportunity appeared—high pay, generous allowances, fast promotion—he immediately applied to go.
He defeated the competitors from his cohort and took up the post. His first overseas posting lasted two years. In the middle of it, he felt some anxiety from being far from home, and every year during his home-leave he had to go back and stick close to his cousin. After repeating this a few times, he more or less developed an acquired immunity. By the time he turned thirty, he was frighteningly strong—he became the first worker bee in Baihua Village who could be posted abroad for two full years and still work with an unchanged expression, and also the first to reach an annual salary of a million.
Whenever people mentioned Meng Shancha, they’d give a thumbs-up and praise him: Brother Shancha is just too strong. Worthy of being the strongest worker bee, right at the forefront of migrant work in Baihua Village.
They’d also add a compliment for the little bee queen—that this generation’s queen bee baby was unbelievably powerful, with pheromones so strong they could cross oceans and remotely soothe worker bees!
With powerhouses joining forces, prosperity for Baihua Village was just around the corner.
Although life was still rather difficult for the clan, they were optimistic and positive, very good at praising others, and full of beautiful expectations for the future.
Meng Shancha had always believed firmly that he was strong—until a pretty boy arrived on the project.
He was called a pretty boy because his skin was pale, his wrists thin, and it felt like the moment he stepped out of the compound he’d instantly attract the attention of a hundred robbery gangs.
The pretty boy came as a technical advisor. He and Meng Shancha were in the same field. He had a master’s degree—just a notch higher than Meng Shancha’s education—but far less project experience.
Meng Shancha labeled him an arrogant theory type, sent from above to pad his résumé, who would get promoted as soon as he went back.
Everyone knew Shangguan Ning would leave soon, so they treated him politely. Unexpectedly, three months passed—Shangguan Ning not only didn’t leave, but because the compound dorms were short on rooms and Meng Shancha’s roommate went back to the country to get married, freeing up a bed, Shangguan Ning moved into Meng Shancha’s room.
That single move earned Shangguan Ning the hatred of the entire compound.
Everyone eyed the spot as roommate to the strongest worker bee. There was no man in the compound who loved cleaning more than Meng Shancha.
Be his roommate and you’d get: perpetually spotless floors, a toilet shiny enough to reflect light, a vase with fresh flowers changed daily, a walking technical database you could consult anytime, and a great roommate willing to run errands for money.
All of the above were genuine reviews from Meng Shancha’s former roommates, quietly circulating within the group.
Not exaggerated in the slightest.
Many things Meng Shancha did were simply out of habit—he didn’t fuss over them.
Especially in a foreign land: interaction among compatriots helped a spiritually attuned clan better preserve that attunement. Born of the same land, they influenced each other and shared fortunes and misfortunes.
Perhaps the longer he stayed away from home, the more Meng Shancha found himself caring about his fellow countrymen.
His new roommate’s surname was Shangguan—an ancient, elegant surname, carrying the same weighty history as their spiritual lineage.
Shangguan Ning didn’t like doing laundry. Every time after showering, he’d toss his clothes into a basin, then, after tidying himself up and blow-drying his hair, carry the basin to the laundry room.
Meng Shancha showered right after him. Seeing that made him deeply uncomfortable—almost anxious. That anxiety eased only after he helped Shangguan Ning wash the clothes.
When Shangguan Ning finished drying his hair and returned to the bathroom, he saw underwear, trousers, and a shirt all washed and wrung dry. He fell silent. “You washed my clothes?”
Meng Shancha told the truth. “I washed them for you. Seeing them lying there made me uncomfortable.”
Shangguan Ning: “You have a cleanliness obsession? I’ll pay attention next time.”
Next time, after showering, he carried the washbasin out and kicked it under the bed so someone wouldn’t have to see it.
Meng Shancha frowned.
Shangguan Ning: “This won’t do either?” He wasn’t dirty—he just had the habit of going to the laundry room before bed, then coming back to read for a bit, and finally hanging the clothes to dry before sleeping.
Meng Shancha, 192 cm tall, stood there after showering in a tank top, his arms well-defined, looking like he could punch a mountain lion to death, yet he said, “Yes. I feel a little uncomfortable in my heart.”
Shangguan Ning was speechless. With a cleanliness obsession like that, why come work at a construction site as an engineer? Wouldn’t it be better to sit in a downtown office building reviewing blueprints?
Meng Shancha: “I was about to do laundry anyway. How about I help you—”
Shangguan Ning thought of daytime at the railway site, where Meng Shancha patrolled inspections in uniform, sweat soaking his temples. Among the engineers he stood out like a crane among chickens; whenever any problem arose, seeing Engineer Meng made people feel at ease.
Dusty and grimy during the day, but at night he was like a neat freak.
Shangguan Ning: “I’ll take it to the laundry room.”
When he came back, he found a pair of shoes he’d been planning to throw away scrubbed clean and placed on the windowsill.
Shangguan Ning came from a wealthy family. Clothes could go in the washing machine; shoes were worn and then tossed. Seeing this, he turned to look at Meng Shancha’s life and only then realized—belatedly—that despite earning a million a year, Meng Shancha lived quite frugally.
He probed indirectly. Meng Shancha didn’t hide it. “I send it all home.”
Shangguan Ning: “You should at least keep some for yourself.”
Meng Shancha: “There are a lot of people at home.”
From this, Shangguan Ning concluded that Meng Shancha bore heavy family burdens—perhaps elderly parents who were ill, younger siblings in school.
Not knowing what else to do, Shangguan Ning began covering the cost of shared dorm supplies. Often, even when the shower gel bottle was still half full, he’d buy a new one.
Meng Shancha felt somewhat ashamed. The shower gel he bought was too cheap; the compound store didn’t have many options, so he bought whatever was there. Shangguan Ning was different—he ordered everything online. Shipping was expensive in their location. All Meng Shancha could do was wash his roommate’s clothes even more diligently.
After less than half a year of living together, the dorm had been completely transformed. The quality of life rivaled that of his cousin who’d entered the entertainment industry.
Yes—after graduating, Meng Xueyuan had very good luck, debuting in a bundled group with a very handsome guy. With Bai He and Xilan gradually entering the company’s upper management and their salaries soaring, the burden on Meng Shancha’s shoulders wasn’t so heavy anymore. The wages he sent home were returned to him in large sums by Bai He as living expenses.
The company often held online remote meetings. Meng Shancha had a company-issued computer, but had to buy his own phone. His old phone, used for years, was outdated and took blurry photos.
In technical meetings, Shangguan Ning’s theoretical knowledge was rich; he usually explained new technologies developed by headquarters.
When something wasn’t understood, engineers with photo permissions raised their phones to capture key technical processes to study later.
Meng Shancha looked at the photos taken by the colleague next to him. Appearing in the same frame as the PPT was Shangguan Ning—features distinct, lips red and teeth white, elegant in bearing.
Then he looked at his own photographed notes. Faces were blurred into a mess. He got so annoyed he turned off his phone.
The pixels were too poor—affecting his note-taking.
Decisively, Meng Shancha used his living allowance to buy the latest high-pixel phone.
Now, when he took photos in meetings, his notes were even clearer than his neighbor’s.
Late at night, the best time to study. Shangguan Ning was reading. Meng Shancha opened his album and pulled up the note photos, his gaze skimming past the lecturer’s face and focusing on the formulas.
After ten minutes, he realized—why couldn’t he see the notes clearly?
It turned out the phone’s face auto-focus had blurred the background.
So what had he been looking at for those ten minutes?
Meng Shancha quietly shifted sideways and looked at the coworker on the lower bunk. The coworker was reading, his book filled with complex formulas.
Squeak—
The metal bunk bed, its center of gravity shifted for a long time, let out a strong warning.
Snap. Shangguan Ning closed his book and looked up. “Is this bed about to break? It won’t collapse in the middle of the night, will it?”
Pulled out of his immersion in advanced theory, Meng Shancha shifted his weight back, carefully climbed down, and took his pillow. “I’ll sleep on the floor tonight.”
It was winter; the floor was cold. Shangguan Ning frowned. “Come up and sleep. We can squeeze a bit.”
Meng Shancha: “No. The bed’s too small. I’m afraid I’ll press on you.”
Shangguan Ning: “If you press on me, won’t I push you away?”
Meng Shancha: “That’s true.”
He hugged his pillow and moved closer to his coworker. “I’ll sleep on the outside.”
Shangguan Ning shifted inward, put down his book. “Sleep.”
The next day, Shangguan Ning realized this had been a mistake. Meng Shancha didn’t press on people—he hugged them. No matter how you pushed, he wouldn’t let go. Fortunately it was winter; Meng Shancha ran hot, but it was barely tolerable.
Work was so busy that neither of them remembered to apply in the system for a bed change.
In fact, many dorms had already eliminated bunk beds. No one liked how the top bunk moving made the bottom one squeak. Everyone applied to change to two single beds, with a curtain in between.
The reason Shangguan Ning didn’t change the bunk was that Meng Shancha needed enough space to work out. He liked doing push-ups. With a 192 cm man stretched out, adding another bed would make it far too cramped.
Meng Shancha especially loved push-ups. He used to go out running too, but after getting a new roommate, he fell in love with the simple, all-weather sport of doing push-ups in the dorm.
He was so strong that he even wanted Shangguan Ning to sit on him.
Shangguan Ning calmly refused.
Meng Shancha was very disappointed, as if he’d trained eight-pack abs only for his roommate to be blind.
As spring arrived, Meng Shancha discovered a troubling problem. Being too long away from the queen bee and unable to leave the project, he began to feel restless—manifesting specifically as improper thoughts about his roommate.
Every morning he was startled by his own body, then silently got up and went to the bathroom.
He was truly afraid his roommate would notice and distance himself.
Troubled, Meng Shancha carried a hammer and fixed the bunk bed.
When Shangguan Ning came back, he was silent for a while. “You can fix it?”
Meng Shancha: “Yeah.”
Shangguan Ning: “…So the top bunk is safe to sleep on?”
For reasons unknown, Meng Shancha, possessed by some impulse, said, “There are still some safety hazards.”
Shangguan Ning: “Then…”
Meng Shancha: “I’ll have to trouble you.”
They were getting too close. Even in the cafeteria, colleagues joked about whether they were a couple.
Meng Shancha denied it and changed the topic. “Leave is hard to get these days. I want to go back to the country.”
Colleague: “Why not submit a marriage application to headquarters? They’re very concerned about the marriages of us overseas engineers. If you say you want to get married, they’ll overcome all difficulties to let you go home.”
Meng Shancha: “Marry who?”
Colleague teased: “Who do you think?”
Meng Shancha loudly retorted: “Don’t slander people out of thin air.” Especially his roommate’s reputation.
Shangguan Ning, nearby: “……”
Colleague: “What’s the big deal? Male-male is hot back home now. Have you seen that zombie boy band? Go watch it—you’re even gayer than the two of them.”
The next day, Shangguan Ning discovered that Meng Shancha really was watching that boy band’s promotional videos.
“You watch this?”
Meng Shancha: “Yes.”
Shangguan Ning studied his expression for a long time, then probed, “Do you like men?”
Seeing the stern look on his roommate’s face, Meng Shancha hurriedly said seriously, “No! I’m watching critically.”
He had to supervise this guy called Lu Xiao and make sure his cousin’s second round of promotions didn’t look too high and mighty.
Fortunately, for now, the more clingy party wasn’t their queen. In this promotional pairing, Meng Xueyuan was mainly responsible for being aloof.
Shangguan Ning: “……”
Critical… judging by the tightly furrowed brows, it really did look like he was critically judging homosexuality.
“The bed is fixed. Please go back to the top bunk.”
