Chapter 4

Chapter 4

The Dragon King’s case was even more troublesome than the Kitchen God’s.

This was because he wasn’t here for a divorce.

He was here to demand compensation for emotional labor from the Plum Rain Season.

“I work so hard raining to nourish all things, yet she says I’m too clingy.” The Dragon King spread a soggy stack of chat logs across the desk. “Look at this. She’s been ‘read and no reply’ for three hundred years.”

The chat logs were filled with blue bubbles.

Dragon King: It’s drizzling today.

Dragon King: It’s raining moderately today.

Dragon King: It’s a rainstorm today.

Dragon King: Why aren’t you saying anything?

Dragon King: Is there something wrong with how I’m raining?

Dragon King: Then I’ll rain even harder.

Plum Rain Season’s only reply was a single line: Don’t push me to the point of dampness.

I rubbed the bridge of my nose.

“Have you ever considered that her silence isn’t a lack of love, but because you’ve flooded her?”

The Dragon King’s eyes widened. “Rain is an expression!”

“Expressions must also consider the recipient’s capacity.”

The Dragon King fell into deep thought for a moment before saying with grief and indignation, “You’re on her side. You humans are all on the side of the seasons. You only call for the Dragon King during a drought, but the moment it rains for more than three days, you curse me for being too proactive at work.”

I couldn’t argue with that.

Especially since it rained heavily in the city last month, and I had even posted on my social feed: “Is the Dragon King rushing his performance targets?”

Just then, a man in a gray trench coat walked into the hall.

He didn’t look like someone who was here to handle business.

While everyone else was soaked like drowned rats, even the tips of his shoes were spotless. Silver-rimmed glasses, a black umbrella, and a small scale-shaped badge pinned to his cuff.

He walked up to my window and handed over his ID.

“Relationship System Audit Office, Shen Tinglan.”

I took the ID.

The photo on the ID was as cold as the man himself, looking like a refrigerator’s instruction manual.

He glanced at the Dragon King, then at the progress bar on my computer.

“Efficiency is too low.”

I smiled. “Auditor Shen is welcome to personally experience what it’s like to mediate while having a dragon’s tail sweeping across your face.”

Shen Tinglan didn’t take the bait.

“Jiang Mian, do you know what being a Public Spouse means?”

“It means I don’t deserve to get off work today.”

“It means the System has determined you can temporarily replace the missing party in any relationship.”

“Sounds like illegal labor dispatch.”

“It also means that if mediation fails, the cost will be deducted from you first.”

The pen in my hand dropped.

The Dragon King asked curiously from the side, “Deduct what?”

Shen Tinglan said, “Memories, emotions, sense of presence-calculated according to the case.”

I looked at Director Luo.

Director Luo shifted her gaze, pretending that the fire hydrant on the wall was particularly educational today.

I finally understood why she kept emphasizing the meal allowance.

It turned out that wasn’t a benefit; it was a juvenile form of funeral consolation money.

Shen Tinglan placed an audit notice on the desk.

“If the progress is lower than 108 before midnight, the City Relationship System will automatically liquidate. All unconfirmed intimate relationships will roll back to a ‘stranger’ status. As the intermediary, you will bear the deficit.”

“How do I bear it?”

“You will remember the relationships everyone else forgets.”

The hall suddenly fell silent.

I saw that young couple who were getting their marriage license still sitting in the corner. The girl’s eyes were red, and the boy was holding her hand, gripping it as if he were afraid that if he let go, he would forget how to love her.

I looked down at my own hands.

I didn’t recall having any intimate relationships.

My parents lived out of town, and we didn’t contact each other much. I had a few friends, but they were all busy. My dating history was roughly equivalent to the Civil Affairs Bureau’s lunch break-short and unstable.

If everyone forgot and I was the only one who remembered, it didn’t seem like much of a loss.

But the voice of the Human World whispered softly in my mind, “It’s not like that.”

I asked her, “Then what is it like?”

She didn’t answer.

The Dragon King was still waiting for a verdict.

I sat up straight again and tapped on the desk.

“Dragon King, what you want is to be understood, not to make the whole city go moldy.”

The Dragon King shrank a size in grievance.

I had the staff bring over three cups.

One with plain water, one with strong tea, and one empty cup.

“If you want to express yourself, rain into this empty cup. If she wants to accept it, she’ll pick it up; if she doesn’t, the cup stays there. Rain isn’t a mistake, but flooding people is.”

The Dragon King stared at the empty cup, two wisps of white mist puffing from his nostrils.

Half a minute later, a single drop of rain fell into the bottom of the cup.

It was very light.

Like a greeting that finally lacked any coercion.

The System displayed: Mediation successful.

Completed: 3/108.

Shen Tinglan wrote two words next to it: Barely acceptable.

I couldn’t help but ask, “Are the mouths of you Auditors standard-issue?”

He looked up at me.

“No.”

“Then why do you speak so coldly?”

“I am responsible for identifying System loopholes, not for coaxing people.”

Just as I was about to retort, the ticket machine rang again.

A004, the city’s Subway Line 3 is applying for a divorce from the Morning Rush Hour.

A005, a Vending Machine complains that coins only go in and never come out.

A006, an Old Umbrella is fighting for custody against a Rainy Day.

Shen Tinglan looked at the long strip of numbers and finally frowned.

I stuffed a stack of forms into his arms.

“Auditor, since you’re here, help with the photocopying.”

He looked down at the forms as if he were discovering the most evil system of humanity for the first time.

“I don’t have the authorization for this.”

“Now you do.”

I stuck a sticky note on the back of his ID.

On it was written: Temporary Copy Clerk.