After I Blocked the Matchmaker Customer Service, He Came for Door-to-door Service - Chapter 2
Chapter 2
Xie Chi said repairing the Red String would take three steps.
Step one: stop going on blind dates.
Step two: find the first person who had connected me into a Supply Thread.
Step three: cut the wrong main thread.
After listening, I asked the most important question.
“Is there a fee?”
Xie Chi fell silent.
I understood.
“Go on. How much?”
“It isn’t money.”
“Then what is it?”
He flipped the repair order to the last page.
It read: The after-sales cost shall be borne by the source of the malfunction. If the source cannot be identified, the applying user shall bear memory degradation.
I stared at the words “memory degradation.”
“What does that mean?”
“After the repair is complete, you may forget a period of memory related to romance.”
“Which period?”
“Uncertain.”
I let out a cold laugh.
“Your after-sales service is pretty shady.”
Xie Chi nodded seriously.
“That’s why I told you not to apply yet.”
I paused.
He lowered his head and tidied the Red String, his voice very calm.
“The system text could only ask whether you wanted to apply. It couldn’t explain the risks. I warned you privately, and you cursed me out.”
I remembered the memes I’d sent him.
One said: Scammers, begone.
One said: Why must workers make life hard for fellow workers?
And another was the God of Wealth holding up a knife.
I coughed.
“Your customer service team’s mental fortitude must be pretty impressive.”
Xie Chi said, “The ones who don’t have it all transfer to the Meng Po Hotline.”
I couldn’t help bursting into laughter.
He glanced at me.
It was a brief look.
As if confirming that I could still laugh, and then he let out a breath of relief.
I set down my glass of water.
“How do we find the first source of the malfunction?”
Xie Chi took out the copper bell.
“The person who connected the wrong main thread will have a continuous hold on your good fortune. If the bell rings three times, that person is nearby.”
“How nearby?”
“Within ten meters.”
I thought about it.
“Then let’s go to my place first.”
Xie Chi looked at me.
I said, “My mom sets me up on blind dates even more diligently than your system assigns tickets.”
He offered no comment.
I liked that kind of no comment.
When many people heard me talk about my mother, their first reaction was to advise me.
There are no parents in the world who are truly wrong.
She’s doing it for your own good too.
You’re not young anymore.
Those words were like a damp cotton quilt. It didn’t hurt when it covered you, but it smothered you until you couldn’t breathe.
Xie Chi only closed his toolbox.
“Let’s go.”
When we arrived home, my mom was in the living room on a video call with someone.
The moment she saw me bring a man back, her eyes lit up.
“Mianmian, who is this?”
Before Xie Chi could speak, I said, “After-sales.”
My mom froze.
“After-sales for what?”
“Fate After-sales Service.”
My mom’s expression fell.
“Nonsense again.”
The auntie on the other end of the video call laughed and smoothed things over.
“Young people in love are all like this. They like to joke around.”
Xie Chi stood in the entryway. The copper bell did not ring.
I couldn’t tell whether what I felt was relief, or something more complicated.
It wasn’t my mom.
At least, she wasn’t the one who had directly connected the wrong thread.
My mom hung up the video call and pulled me into the kitchen.
“How did you manage to drive Liang Hong away again? His qualifications are so good.”
“He wanted to steal my luck.”
“What stealing luck? Stop reading such ridiculous things.”
She lowered her voice.
“You’re already twenty-nine. Stop being so picky.”
I looked at her.
“Mom, have you ever thought about why I have to get married?”
She looked as if she’d heard something completely absurd.
“How can a woman not get married?”
“Why can’t she?”
She was silent for two seconds.
“What will you do when you’re old?”
She had said that to me many times.
But today, I suddenly heard something else in it.
Not urging.
Fear.
In the living room, the copper bell suddenly rang once.
Ding.
Xie Chi and I looked up at the same time.
Someone rang the doorbell.
My mom’s expression changed.
She went over and opened the door.
Standing outside was a man with graying hair and fruit in his hand.
When he saw me, he smiled.
“Mianmian, long time no see.”
The copper bell rang a second time.
Ding.
I recognized him.
He was my mom’s former coworker, Uncle Chen.
And twenty years ago, after my dad left, he was the person who came to our home most often.
