Lend Me Your Shoulder - Chapter 19
Chapter 19
When Lu Yanbai got home, it was eleven at night. His father and mother were already asleep. In the inner room, Lu Wanyi had just finished her homework and was about to go to bed.
Seeing him come back, Lu Wanyi pointed at the table: “Brother, you had two phone calls just now.”
After finishing evening self-study, he went home briefly. Before he could even sit down, a patient’s family called him and he had to leave immediately, forgetting to take his phone with him.
Now he finally had time to check the missed calls on it.
“They called for quite a while. Then I answered briefly. They said you went out and forgot your phone. They asked you to call them back when you got home,” Lu Wanyi said. “They said something about a project. Are you working on a project lately?”
Lu Yanbai nodded, then looked at her: “Still worried about me? Take a shower and go to sleep quickly.”
“Tomorrow’s the rare day off from class, yet you’re still rushing me to sleep,” Lu Wanyi protested. “I’m just concerned about you. What project? Psychology-related?”
“Mm, app development,” Lu Yanbai said as he hung his coat on the rack. “That’s not something you need to worry about.”
Lu Wanyi straightened her waist: “How not? What if you’re planning to go into psychology and won’t take over the family business? Then the winery will definitely fall on me… I also have to start understanding related things early…”
“Even if I work in that field, I won’t neglect the family winery. You don’t need to worry,” Lu Yanbai pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why are you already thinking about your future at such a young age?”
“This is called being proactive, okay?” Lu Wanyi sounded like a little adult. “My idol knew what she wanted to do at sixteen. I should start thinking about my future too.”
“…”
“Enough, go to sleep.”
Lu Wanyi went into her room. Lu Yanbai sat on the sofa, loosened a button of his shirt, and called back the number.
It was about the psychology app he had been developing recently. Since they were going to create a public account, they needed to hire someone.
The public account was supposed to post daily content, varying each time, including some psychological tests, mental health knowledge, and other psychology-related content.
Everything else was arranged except for one vacant position — a copywriter to write the posts. They still hadn’t found a suitable person.
After hanging up, an image suddenly appeared in Lu Yanbai’s mind.
The next day at the extra class, Xu Yeyu arrived early. Besides bringing books, she also brought her laptop.
After a day of classes, Xu Yeyu opened her laptop and said, “I modified the problem you pointed out before, but after going home I thought of a better way to express it, so I changed it again. Please take a look.”
Lu Yanbai didn’t expect her to be so diligent, revising the post multiple times.
Taking the laptop, he casually praised, “You’re very serious.”
She smiled shyly: “After all, it’s something I wrote myself, so I want it to be perfect.”
If she had any obsession, it was that anything coming from her hands had to be something she was fully satisfied with before stopping—whether writing or anything else.
She wanted to live up to her pen name and to the people who liked her.
Lu Yanbai browsed through her revisions and nodded: “It’s good now, really well done.”
She pressed her lips and smiled. His casual praise put her in a good mood: “Then I’ll write the next one later.”
“Are you tired?” he suddenly asked.
Xu Yeyu didn’t understand at first: “Huh?”
His voice was calm: “You usually write novels, now suddenly writing so many posts. Does it feel overwhelming or too scattered?”
“Not really,” Xu Yeyu said. “I’m not busy recently because I’m preparing material for my next long novel. I’m also collecting data. The next long novel is about psychology, so doing this helps me find knowledge gaps and fill them in. It definitely helps me write better.”
Lu Yanbai paused: “What genre do you write?”
“Romance,” Xu Yeyu suddenly stammered, “I—I mean, is that a problem?”
She was a little embarrassed since romance novels often have kissing scenes, ship scenes, and flirtatious talk, which she feared he might immediately ask, “How are your kissing scenes?”
She wrote those pretty well, even though she’d never been in a relationship…
Lu Yanbai: “You romance writers are that particular about these things?”
He looked at her, who seemed quite serious.
Xu Yeyu breathed out in relief, realizing that’s what he meant.
“Romance doesn’t have to be so particular. Sometimes movies and TV shows have some bugs, but the better you understand, the deeper you write, which helps with the background and character building. Plus, what I’m going to write is more professional.”
She almost forgot she was a psychology major, then quickly corrected herself sweating: “Writing posts is also combining professional knowledge and writing skills. It’s good practice, harmless.”
Lu Yanbai roughly understood and nodded.
Xu Yeyu thought he was subtly urging her to write the second post. Usually, this kind of hint is how they coax writers to submit more—first ask if they’re tired or if it’s okay, and when you say no, then ask for more.
She thought for a moment, then very responsibly said, “I’ll start tonight and let you see it when it’s done.”
Lu Yanbai nodded, knowing, raised his brow, and after a moment said calmly, “I look forward to it.”
His voice was warm and unusually serious.
Three days later, the second post was ready.
Since the post had themes and materials, all she had to do was organize them into clear, easy-to-understand sentences.
She messaged Lu Yanbai: “The second post is done. Do you have time to check it now?”
Half an hour passed before he replied: “I’m at the office.”
Xu Yeyu brought her laptop again on the way to L University, also buying two cups of lemon Yakult from a milk tea shop.
When she arrived at the office, carrying too many things, she almost lost her balance. Shaking, she slipped inside through the door gap.
Lu Yanbai smiled seeing her stagger like a panda, took the laptop from her other hand.
After the “heavy load” was taken, Xu Yeyu relaxed, balanced herself, and quietly closed the door with her toes.
He put the laptop on the desk: “Why bring so many things?”
“Also bought you some water,” she put the lemon Yakult in front of him. “It’s really tasty, lemon with Yakult, sour and sweet—just like me.”
“…”
“If you like Yakult, you shouldn’t dislike its derivative,” Xu Yeyu licked her lips, “Have you tried it?”
Lu Yanbai shook his head looking at the pale lemon-yellow liquid.
Xu Yeyu coaxed: “Try it then.”
She unconsciously lowered her voice, mumbling: “I waited in line for a long time.”
It sounded like she bought it especially for him and queued a long time, so he shouldn’t dismiss the little girl’s intention.
Lu Yanbai pulled a straw from the bag, punctured the seal, and took a sip.
The taste was neither too strong nor weak; the lemon’s freshness mixed with Yakult’s sweet and sour. Compared to normal drinks, it was fresher and not cloying.
But he wasn’t really interested in this stuff. Lu Wanyi liked it better. Every time he bought Yakult, it was mostly to bring home for Lu Wanyi.
To him, most drinks were just sugar water—generally bland.
She raised her eyebrows: “How is it?”
He lowered his gaze, eyes hard to read.
Seeing her earnest gaze, thinking she bought it deliberately to share, he couldn’t brush her off with a careless answer.
After a pause, Lu Yanbai nodded.
She grinned: “You like it? Then I’ll buy it for you next time.”
He didn’t answer. She kept going: “Then whenever you drink Yakult, you’ll think of me.”
“…”
“I don’t usually drink Yakult,” he said.
Xu Yeyu blinked: “You don’t usually? Then why do you buy it?”
Is he messing with her?
Thinking of her habit of poking Yakult when she’s uninspired, she fell silent for a few seconds, then nervously leaned close to his ear and lowered her voice:
“Do you have some… special preference?”
Lu Yanbai: “…”
“I don’t,” he said, feeling his temples twitch. He had no idea how she brought the conversation to such a baffling place.
He rubbed his forehead tiredly and tried to get rid of this little troublemaker.
“Look at the post.”
The atmosphere in the office calmed. Lu Yanbai read the post from start to finish. The black lines (exasperation) caused by her nonsense finally faded and were replaced by satisfaction.
It seemed she wasn’t just temporarily overperforming. She really had the ability to handle the posts well, both the first and the second ones were excellent.
He nodded and asked her an unrelated question: “You said before, how much do you usually get paid for your writing?”
Xu Yeyu hesitated but answered properly: “Eight hundred per thousand words. Why?”
“If I pay you nine hundred per thousand, would you write three more psychology-related posts?”
Xu Yeyu: “…What do you mean? Someone asked me to write posts? I…”
“Yes, I want to hire you.”
She didn’t say “I don’t want to,” but froze and was a little surprised.
“I… can do it.”
“What kind of task?”
“Not a task, it’s for an app’s public account,” Lu Yanbai explained. “We haven’t found a full-time staff yet. I think your perspective can resonate with people, so I want to invite you to write a few posts.”
When Lu Yanbai “invited” her to write, this “invite” almost conquered everything.
She couldn’t refuse him.
Moreover, if he asked her, she would be overjoyed even in her dreams.
She was a bit nervous but nodded: “If you ask me, I don’t need nine hundred per thousand. I’ll give you a discount, a friendship price.”
He rubbed his forehead: “A few thousand yuan in writing fees is affordable for me.”
She timidly shrank back her neck: “I just wanted you to feel the special treatment I’m giving you.”
Many small joys come from these little things. She just wanted to make him happy within her ability.
“Writing well is the best special treatment,” he said.
“What exactly should I write?”
“Start with some popular science articles, suitable for wide distribution,” he said. “After discussion, I’ll send you keywords. If you don’t understand something, message me. I’ll reply whenever I see it.”
“Can I message you?” She pushed her luck.
“…Sure.”
“Can I call you?”
“…Sure.”
“Video call?”
“…”
“I see,” she whispered, “I’ll seriously pester—uh, I mean, ask you.”
After dinner, Xu Yeyu received the keywords from Lu Yanbai.
Like receiving an imperial edict, she sat at the computer right after dinner and started typing.
Passing by, Xiang Wei said, “Why have you never been this motivated to write before?”
“You don’t get it. This is personal work assigned by Professor Lu, not a school requirement,” Xu Yeyu said proudly. “I have to hurry and finish. If I don’t know something, I can bother him.”
“Bother?”
“Yeah, he said I can ask him. If I call when he just finished showering, I could see water droplets rolling down his hair and chest…”
Xiang Wei: “Are you seriously a little h-novelist?”
Three hours later.
Lu Yanbai just finished a call and went to shower to relax.
On the other side, the partners heard about him wanting Xu Yeyu to write some posts and were doubtful. She’s not a professional in this field; writing novels and posts are different. Writers have limitations, and it would be difficult for her to handle the posts. They wanted him to reconsider.
He thought about it for a while but decided to use her anyway.
After a long back-and-forth, the partners agreed to try and see how the results turned out.
Feeling a bit tired, he went to shower. Just as he sat on the bed, his phone buzzed.
[Xu Yeyu] sent you a video call.
He frowned, and saw she sent more messages.
Professor, are you asleep?
Do you have time to accept my pestering?
I mean, I’m annoying you.
Can we discuss that thing?
Lu Yanbai: …
After a sudden burst of these messages, she started deleting them one by one.
Finally, she sent again —
Professor, come video chat?
The phone screen showed the time: 13:14.