‘SEE YOU MORNING’ 119 Misunderstanding

Having cast off unnecessary disturbances, Lin Yuhui’s mood became much simpler and calmer; those sleepless nights could only be made up for slowly.
“David, this equipment needs some adjustment,” the boss said, bringing a draft over to Lin Yuhui.
But things didn’t go as smoothly as usual this time. Lin Yuhui felt his mind wasn’t quite sharp, his reactions were sluggish, and even his typing was riddled with errors.
“What’s wrong, David? You’ve lost your touch today,” Christian asked half-jokingly.
“Ah, why don’t you go ahead with your work? I’ll finish this up and bring it over to you.”
“Alright, thanks.”
Slowing down his pace, he finished the work and delivered it to the boss. Lin Yuhui then sorted out his thoughts; he realized he had indeed been off his game that day. His ongoing sleep issues and heart circulation problems had taken their toll on his state of mind by the afternoon. As quitting time approached, the atmosphere in the office livened up again, with Dylan naturally being the most boisterous. But Lin Yuhui no longer joined their conversations, letting the chatter of those around him drift over his head like passing clouds.
After a slightly dazed afternoon, he wrapped up the day’s work and went to the cafeteria for his usual meal. Sitting in the corner, he happened to glance up and spotted a petite woman in a yellow dress with red floral patterns. Her demeanor was poised, her temperament fresh and clean—completely unlike the vulgarity of the average factory worker, yet not as overly seductive as Cerise. What struck Lin Yuhui as most novel was that the moment he saw her face and hairstyle, it reminded him of the second woman from his three consecutive dreams. She seemed to be new, whether temporarily or long-term, but what did that have to do with him? After eating, he wandered back to his lodgings.
Apart from gathering news, Lin Yuhui had a new pastime in his spare time: his newly purchased violin had arrived. It was a second-hand, laminated instrument with decent grain. Since his rented room was on the fifth floor and the landlord lived below the third floor, there was no issue of disturbing the neighbors with noise. He rosined the bow and tuned the strings, giving it a try, but the action seemed a bit too high, biting into his fingers.
In the quiet time that followed, it was all about the scraping and shaving of wood with a utility knife blade. As the peaceful evening hours passed, deeper wood grains emerged through the cutting, like flipping through the traces of bygone years. The maple of the bridge emitted a fragrance accumulated over time, bringing a penetrating tranquility that felt as if he were deep in a serene mountain forest.
Putting his tools down, Lin Yuhui felt he had enjoyed enough of the process for one day; any more would turn into labor. He stood up to stretch his limbs and joints, when a cool breeze wafting through the open screen window caught his attention.
The night outside was pitch black. Out here in the county suburbs, without excessive municipal lighting, the dim yellow lights from houses or small shops were the only warmth in the darkness.
Looking up at the sky, the rain clouds brought by the typhoon had blocked the scorching heat of the day, bringing coolness to the night. The rolling dark clouds here looked different from those Lin Yuhui had seen before; they hung very low, churning with silent flashes of lightning within.
The strengthening gale nearly blew away the wooden panels stacked on the roof of the neighbor opposite. A pair of young sisters were busy putting them away. The older sister made Lin Yuhui’s heart race with anxiety—she was actually standing on the wall of the third-floor balcony, pulling down the stacked panels from the roof. One misstep and she risked falling from the third floor. Are girls really such risk-takers? Or do they just love seeking thrills? Tomorrow, he must mention this to the landlord and ask him to tell the adults next door to properly educate these kids about safety awareness.
The next morning, Lin Yuhui focused solely on his own world at the office. After finishing his tasks, he noticed an evaluation from his boss in an email: “Your work is useless.”
Lin Yuhui was immediately indignant. If it was going to be like this from the start, how could he survive in this company in the days to come? Constantly being slandered and manipulated? He wasn’t that kind of person. Although he had been unemployed for many years, could he stomach having to kneel to keep this job?
His thoughts churned. He knew that the courage not to kneel doesn’t come from whining or bluster, but from the genuine courage to let go—whether it be finding a job or finding a partner. Lin Yuhui hesitated for a moment but finally decided to take that step. But how exactly should he take it? He knew well enough.
With a loud snap, Lin Yuhui slammed his mouse onto the desk and muttered aloud,
“This job isn’t worth doing if I can’t do it right. Might as well quit.”
Dylan, sitting nearby, caught the vibe and immediately leaned in, his garlic-shaped nose almost touching Lin Yuhui’s face.
“What’s up, David?”
Lin Yuhui knew he had never been satisfied with his own position, likely due to pay or other reasons. Dylan had even wanted to learn CAD from Lin Yuhui to build up his skills and gain more confidence to switch jobs, but Lin Yuhui had persuaded him against it, knowing Dylan lacked personal advantages. Now that Lin Yuhui himself was leaning toward leaving, he knew Dylan would jump in like a chicken with its blood up.
Lin Yuhui pulled his chair back to create some space, pointing at the screen in a huff.
“Look, the boss says I’m useless. So what’s the point of me working here? Might as well quit.” With that, he stormed off to stand in front of the floor-to-ceiling window, facing the glass to look at the scenery.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Dylan dragging a chair over to the screen, examining it with great scrutiny.
Standing before the glass, Lin Yuhui gathered his composure, guessing that Stephanie had probably already forwarded the message directly to the boss. Only then did he return to his seat and reply to the boss’s email with a few icy words: “Need to talk.”
Before long, the boss’s wife came first, speaking kindly.
“Don’t worry, David, the boss will be here shortly.”
Lin Yuhui quickly stood up, forcing a smile.
“It’s fine, no rush. You go ahead with your work; I’m okay.” As the saying goes, one doesn’t hit a person who smiles at you, especially not a woman.
He sat back down. Soon after, the boss arrived, walking past the window. Lin Yuhui glanced at him—his face looked like he was ready for a lawsuit.
“David, did you want to talk to me? Do you have time now?”
“Yes, preferably now,” Lin Yuhui replied, his expression and tone icy.
“Alright, let me tidy up my office. I’ll call you when I’m ready.”
A short while later, he entered the boss’s office and sat down. Seeing that the boss wasn’t about to speak, Lin Yuhui cut straight to the chase.
“If my work has no value, then I should leave,” he said, his voice low, steady, and his face gloomy.
“Why would you leave?” Christian asked, somewhat puzzled.
“You said it yourself. My work has no value. So what use am I here?”
“When did I ever say your work has no value?”
“The email you sent me.” With that, seeing Christian turn to check his computer screen, Lin Yuhui stood up and pointed it out to him.
As Lin Yuhui’s gaze swept across the email list, a sudden memory flashed in his mind: he recalled receiving an email from the boss earlier that a project had been canceled, yet he had continued to complete it according to the original plan, as if his brain had rusted.
So the boss’s reply wasn’t wrong; he had indeed done useless work. It was all a misunderstanding.

‘SEE YOU MORNING’ 120 The Difference Between Pets and Beasts
One of Lin Yuhui’s strengths was his ability to admit when he was wrong, never resorting to saving face through sophistry or excuses.
Back in the office, standing at his workstation, he announced loudly,
“Excuse me, everyone, I need to clarify something. That just now was a misunderstanding between the boss and me.”
With that, he sat down and got back to work, feeling no discomfort regarding his personal pride. However, a question flashed through his mind in that instant: Was there also a misunderstanding between Cerise and me? Because she and Sapphire were still constantly talking behind his back about dating and blind dates. If there was no suitable match for her here, what was the point of harping on about it? Lin Yuhui truly didn’t understand.
Another time, Cerise and Lila had whispered for a long while opposite his seat, after which Cerise spoke a line in Japanese, and the two giggled nonstop.
Although Lin Yuhui didn’t understand Japanese, he knew it was a line from a drama called 101st Proposal—another love story about an older man and a not-so-old woman. But that was just theatrical performance, completely different from reality, and the situations weren’t even alike. Compared to Lin Yuhui, the male lead in the show had no health issues, nor did he seem to have much opinion or life ambition; he was perfectly suited for the role of a long-term simp.
And the female lead in the drama was different from Cerise. She never stayed out all night, nor did she have a huge crowd of backup options. She was single because her boyfriend had died unexpectedly, and she played the cello. To some extent, she was actually Lin Yuhui’s preferred type. Although Cerise was reciting the same lines as Kaoru Yabuki opposite him, she couldn’t hold a candle to her temperament, depth, or even her kindness and character.
Yet, a tiny flicker of fantasy remained unextinguished in Lin Yuhui’s heart: Would she change for me?
When his attention returned from his wandering thoughts, Lin Yuhui refocused on how to express some further apology to the boss.
He was a man of personality and possessed certain skills in the industry, while his boss was a PhD who had founded the company—a remarkable talent in his own right. That he hired Lin Yuhui regardless showed an open-mindedness that reminded Lin Yuhui of a comic series he had created years ago, roughly embodying the idea that “there are no weak soldiers under a strong general.”
Lin Yuhui was a veteran Formula 1 fan. Due to his unemployment years ago, he had the time, and coinciding with Trump’s MAGA movement, he developed an interest in politics. This comic combined those elements, titled The Difference Between Pets and Beasts. Using a comparative style, it took the clear No. 1 and No. 2 driver hierarchy and iron-clad team strategy execution of Red Bull’s Christian Horner and Mercedes’ Toto Wolff as positive examples, teasing Ferrari’s incompetence in watching their two drivers fight each other. It then expanded to the political circle, where the Abe couple visiting the US were squeezed off the red carpet by Trump, their status likened to dogs before their master. Lin Yuhui photoshopped them into Akita dogs, though he offered them some justification. Trump’s slogan was “For America,” Abe’s was “For Japan,” and his wife’s was “For her husband.” Thus, whether rude or humble, they all saved face. He then teased Moon Jae-in, predicting two outcomes based on Korean characteristics: if the president was impeached, he was just dog meat served at the table; if he worked hard for the American master, he would enjoy riches and honor beneath the skirts of a Korean beauty troupe. The finishing touch was a photo of Putin riding a bear, and Trump playing Santa Claus, with the Twitter blue bird pulling the sleigh. Lin Yuhui posted this series of images on WeChat Moments.
Sure enough, that afternoon was extraordinary. The boss’s wife seemed particularly pleased. Of course, having an employee praise her husband for commanding capable and individualistic people made her so happy that she directly messaged David asking him to tell jokes to everyone when he had time. The Friday workday ended on this pleasant note.
Even without work, Lin Yuhui came to the office every weekend because he had nowhere better to solve his lunch and dinner problem; the company cafeteria was his optimal choice.
Cerise never came to the office on Saturdays or Sundays, though Lila, who often followed her, occasionally came on weekends. She was younger, average-looking, and seemed to hang around Cerise either because she admired Cerise’s looks or perhaps to attract attention. But in Lin Yuhui’s view, this precisely reduced her chances of finding a partner. The reason was simple: Cerise’s beauty was beyond her reach, and following her trends weakened her own differentiated competitive advantage. It was truly naive and childish. Actually, Lin Yuhui had once tried to enlighten her with words, but she wouldn’t listen or simply didn’t understand. There was no helping it; everyone has their own fate.
This weekend, she voluntarily took on a task originally belonging to Cerise’s duties: producing the text for export equipment customs declarations. Lila sat diagonally across from Lin Yuhui, making trip after trip between her seat and the printer to get this task onto her own shoulders.
As usual, Lin Yuhui browsed online updates on the pandemic situation and international news. Since Trump’s 2020 election loss and Biden taking office, the Democratic Party had been making his life miserable. Lin Yuhui even noticed that Trump’s responses were becoming increasingly erratic, able only to scream hoarsely, emitting useless noise. He wondered if Trump would be sent to prison by his political opponents; after all, he hadn’t seized his chances while in power.
“David, have you ever done this kind of customs declaration document? Oh dear, I’m afraid I won’t do it right,” Lila said from the diagonal seat, waving a paper template file as she asked for help.
“No,” Lin Yuhui thought to himself, why would she take Cerise’s work upon herself? But he couldn’t just sit by and watch her make a fool of herself, so he added,
“I’ll take a look for you.” Lin Yuhui never promised results, as he didn’t know if he could achieve them, but once he accepted, he would do his best to deliver.
Lin Yuhui examined the specifics. It turned out that copying the template file based on Word’s control precision for page element printing positions was indeed somewhat difficult. Having experience editing documents in the bidding department, he adjusted the print control details. Then, one at the computer and one at the printer, they experimented several times together until they finally achieved sufficient printing accuracy.
After completing the task, Lila felt a great sense of accomplishment. Lin Yuhui stood in front of the printer, looking at her excited expression from a distance, unable to understand why she had taken on work that didn’t belong to her. Nor could he understand why she often came by to show her face but never took the initiative to chat with him to get closer. Although he had no romantic feelings for her, if she had been proactive and single-mindedly committed to her choice, who knows what might have happened.