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It wаs а fоggy daу.
Тhе саlendar reаd Sеptembеr 1, 2019.
The Сiрhеr рrоgrаm team wаs waiting for Wei Qingyue on thе 15th flоor оf the hоtеl. Не was drеssеd саsuаlly—in сasual pаnts аnd a thin lоng-sleeved shirt with thе cuffs rollеd up twicе, wеаring snеаkеrs with slightlу dirty upреrs.
Aftеr gеtting оut of thе cаr, hе took thе еlevаtor to the 15th flоor. The соrridоr cаrpet and thе lighting wеrе the sаmе соlоr, dim аnd dusky, likе twilight. Stаff membеrs, both mеn and womеn, werе whisреring to еасh оther in the hallwаy.
From the moment hе steppеd out of thе cаr, thе cаmera was on him, following him as he walked. He didn’t speak, just kept moving forward. In the footage, the sound of his footsteps was particularly distinct. The host, Huang Yingshi, came out of the room and extended her hand first: "Mr. Wei, nice to meet you. Thank you for coming."
Two glasses of water were placed on the table, the transparent glass clear. Wei Qingyue sat down and smiled. "Let’s change the title—just call me Wei Qingyue," he said, pointing outside the window. "The smog is heavy today."
Huang Yingshi followed his gaze outside and began the conversation casually: "The weather isn’t great, but you look much brighter and more handsome than I saw online—more handsome in a direct way." She laughed. "Do you mind people paying too much attention to your appearance?"
Wei Qingyue sat relaxed on the sofa, his posture easy. He raised an eyebrow slightly, a hint of slyness in his expression. "I don’t mind. I also care about looks."
"Does your company hire people based on looks?" Huang Yingshi chuckled. "It really is an era where appearance matters. So, do you mind how people define you—for example, as an internet celebrity? The controversy about you is that you come from a high academic background, studied abroad, are a standard academic achiever, a tech elite, yet as an elite, you’ve also ventured into being an internet celebrity, and you’re doing the simplest kind of science popularization. Although you don’t appear in many videos, you have a huge following and are widely discussed and admired. How do you view these controversies yourself? Do you feel that the term 'internet celebrity' lacks sophistication?"
Wei Qingyue took a sip of water, his tone even more relaxed than his posture. "The concept of 'internet celebrity' should be a neutral term—someone popular on the internet. But for many reasons, people now tend to associate it with more negative connotations. For me, since the meaning of a word is assigned by people, it’s entirely possible for it to change over time, from something negative to something positive, right? As for you saying 'simple science popularization,' I don’t agree with that. The reason I appear on camera is partly because my company sometimes needs it for promotion, and partly because I’m very interested in participating in such science popularization. Some friends have specifically formed teams to create this kind of content, and it’s truly valuable to spark people’s interest in science. Perhaps the public has a misconception that things that sound popular are superficial."
But you can’t deny that often, the reality is just that—when something becomes popular, it faces the difficulty of lacking depth, Huang Yingshi said.
Wei Qingyue replied, "Science isn’t like that. The public might think something is simple because I explained it in a way you understood, but you don’t know the process behind making it seem easy for you. Moreover, in this field, if academic achievers who possess knowledge don’t take the lead, who do people hope will? Wellness gurus?"
The occasional sharpness was hidden in the nearly teasing rhetorical question at the end."Wouldn't that raise suspicions of leveraging high academic credentials and professional knowledge for clout? Or to put it simply, have you considered that the high engagement your video topics generate might also be influenced by your appearance?" Huang Yingshi tossed the question back to him.
Wei Qingyue gently rubbed his brow and replied unhurriedly, "Those are two good questions. The term 'clout' clearly carries a negative connotation in the context of your question, but as I just explained, the meaning of a word is assigned by people. So if I don't see any issue with clout, then there isn't one. Everyone is chasing brevity, chasing how to maximize sensory pleasure within a minute, but that pleasure is fleeting, driving people to constantly seek the next swipe. I won't comment on whether that's right or wrong, good or bad. For my own videos, the shortest runs over ten minutes, the longest perhaps half an hour, yet they still manage to retain viewers—people willing to watch, willing to learn some accurate knowledge. Perhaps, inadvertently, they even enhance the scientific literacy of the audience. That, to me, is the greatest significance." He smiled with a hint of playfulness. "As for appearance, I don't have—nor do I need—the guilt or anxiety of feeling undeserving, worrying that the attention comes solely from looks. Your question might be more targeted if directed at professionals in certain industries."
This made Huang Yingshi chuckle knowingly. Wei Qingyue had a sense of humor that struck just the right note. Her interview differed from the financial magazine's exclusive with Wei Qingyue—less formulaic, less polished, more of a collision.
"Your resume looks exceptionally impressive—one could say you achieved success at a young age, and so far, there don't seem to be any failures. You were born in 1991, soon approaching thirty. What do you think defines your generation's characteristics as reflected in you?"
"How do you define failure?" Wei Qingyue countered. "By what standard? I can't represent our generation. I'm an individual, and a rather insignificant one at that. 'Achieving success young' is an overstatement. Asking me to speak on the traits of this generation—that's a rather broad question, for me."
Huang Yingshi said, "I understand what you mean, but eras always leave their marks on individuals. For example, when I was in school, teachers loved discussing politics. Even now, groups of elderly men downstairs still enjoy talking about it. Yet, I don't sense that same enthusiasm among people your age. My peers, especially men, still seem quite passionate about it."
Wei Qingyue skillfully sidestepped topics he didn't wish to delve into. Sensing his stance, Huang Yingshi asked, "Could it be understood that you're a very contradictory person?"
"How so?" He shifted his posture."On one hand, you care about whether people around you develop an interest in science, and what positive impact your actions can bring. On the other hand, you maintain a distance from others, refraining from making judgments, almost as if adopting an indifferent attitude. The business scope of your company itself covers new fields like new energy, artificial intelligence, and autonomous driving. Regardless of subjective motivations, objectively, it is indeed aimed at changing the world, making it a better place. Could your profession also be influencing your personality?"
Wei Qingyue smiled: "Subjective motivation? Money. Will the world truly become better? I don’t know, but I don’t see these two aspects as contradictory. Even if they were contradictory, wouldn’t that be normal? People are always caught in contradictions."
"Have you ever been in a very contradictory state?" Huang Yingshi casually refilled his water glass.
Wei Qingyue seemed to answer without hesitation, nodding: "Yes. When I went abroad to study years ago, I had been looking forward to it for a long time, eagerly so. Because my relationship with my father was very tense, I always wanted to escape that environment. Later, when I actually went to the United States to study, I instead felt a sense of exile, of drifting. Those years were actually quite monotonous. I didn’t enjoy socializing, just buried myself in research. After returning to China, up until now, I’ve instead felt a sense of grounding."
"Tense relationship with your father—can that be understood as your family of origin having caused you some harm? Have you ever thought about how such wounds might heal?" Huang Yingshi looked at him calmly.
"Must they heal? Will they definitely heal?" Wei Qingyue asked with a smile. "For things that can’t heal, I’ve always believed it’s better to leave them as they are. Not everything needs a resolution. I have no obsession with this." After a pause of a few seconds, as if adding, "Of course, it’s also possible that deep in my subconscious, I want to heal, but I’m not aware of it."
"Your words remind me of a movie, Manchester by the Sea. I wonder if you’ve seen it. The theme of the movie shares a similar sentiment with your attitude. Hmm, in your science programs, including today’s conversation, I see you as very relaxed and composed. Is this also your state at work? Is this the side of you that people usually see through the internet?" Huang Yingshi asked.
Wei Qingyue picked up his water glass, his fingertips rubbing against the clear glass: "There are times of tension, but when I clearly feel pressure, I think I should set aside distractions and simply focus on doing things earnestly. The best state is like that of a tree."
Huang Yingshi clearly didn’t expect him to suddenly offer such a metaphor and asked with a smile, "Why is the best state like that of a tree?""In front of the library at my high school alma mater, there is a tree. I never really paid attention to it until one day, someone told me that at night, because of its lush foliage, it looks pitch black, like a person standing there. And in winter, all its leaves fall off. Later, I realized it really was like that." Wei Qingyue rested his chin on his hand and smiled lightly. He thought of someone—a person who, whenever he remembered them, stirred up intense emotions. "Whether I care about that tree or not, it grows when it should grow and withers when it should wither. It doesn’t sprout or shed leaves just because I see it. I think it’s best for people to approach things with that kind of mindset—to let things be as they are. Whether the environment is gentle and mild or stormy and harsh, it must be accepted, but that doesn’t hinder the process of growth and decay itself."
"You’re starting to sound like Laozi or Zhuangzi," Huang Yingshi had to admit. Although Wei Qingyue came from a science background, he had a strong ability to articulate his views. She returned to a point he had made earlier: "You said you don’t know whether the world will truly become better. That seems to contradict the metaphor of the tree you just described."
"People are always caught in contradictions. Are we circling back to that topic?" Wei Qingyue gestured with his hand. "You could think of it this way: intellectually, there may be doubt and pessimism, but in action, there is optimism. A pessimistic optimist."
Huang Yingshi laughed and nodded.
Outside the window, the smog remained heavy, so thick that the world was barely visible. The city seemed like a mirage, built upon an illusory mirror. Wei Qingyue suddenly noticed a clock hanging in the interview room, but the clock wasn’t moving—time had frozen.
"Your clock seems to be broken," he pointed at the wall. Huang Yingshi turned to look and smiled. "You’re a very observant guest."
"I’m used to paying attention to details," Wei Qingyue joked.
"I didn’t expect you to be so talkative—with the precision of a science student and the sensitivity of a humanities student," Huang Yingshi remarked.
Wei Qingyue smiled. "How could I not be talkative if I’m on a show? Why else would they invite me?"
He remained composed and at ease throughout. Huang Yingshi looked at him and asked, "I’ve met some friends around your age, and many of them feel anxious. But I don’t sense that in you. This anxiety isn’t simply about money or material things. From a worldly perspective, they’ve already achieved a certain level of success. Do you have your own anxieties? For example, about the uncertainty of the future?"
"The topic of anxiety has been discussed enough. I think we don’t need to talk about it anymore—no need to create more anxiety. Everyone has their own way of living." Wei Qingyue deftly avoided the topic he didn’t want to discuss.
But Huang Yingshi pressed on: "In your experience, can you always digest everything so openly? Is there anything you can’t reconcile with yourself?"
At this question, Wei Qingyue paused for a moment. He picked up his cup and drank quietly.
"Love," he suddenly said. Huang Yingshi was taken aback, but the camera remained fixed on both of them. "Not being able to have love is something that easily lingers in one’s mind, at least for me."
"Are you sure you want to talk about this topic?" Huang Yingshi blinked at him.
Wei Qingyue understood her thoughtful consideration and brushed it off lightly, as if joking. "Let’s just leave it at that."The interview lasted several dozen minutes, with Wei Qingyue speaking at length. After it concluded, there were a few more polite exchanges—words like "thank you for your hard work" echoed repeatedly. He clearly carried exhaustion, a weariness that surfaced immediately once it was over.
In the corridor, still bathed in the hues of dusk, he stepped out of the interview room. Huang Yingshi was giving instructions to the staff. A journalist by background, she had written columns, served as a lead writer for a considerable period, and risen to become deputy editor of a well-known magazine, overseeing many viral articles under her leadership. Today’s interview with Wei Qingyue, however, had missed many key points. Wei Qingyue was the type who would speak earnestly about topics he wished to discuss, but for those he avoided, he would either remain silent or steer the conversation elsewhere. The only highlight had been his mention of "love," yet Huang Yingshi had not seized on the privacy angle to press further.
Wei Qingyue loved drinking plain water. Before leaving, he made a trip to the restroom. Upon exiting, he caught sight of a figure hurrying past and followed it for a few steps. This day was September 1, 2019—a date typically marking the start of the school year for high school freshmen, though that was twelve years ago. Back then, there was no WeChat, few knew what a smartphone was, no one shopped on Taobao or ordered takeout; they could only use cash to buy things. The terms "internet celebrity" and "traffic" didn’t exist, and the world had yet to witness so many bewildering events—it seemed like an antiquated place.
This was all part of his plan: to see that figure, accept the invitation from Cipher, appear on the program, and speak every word for her sake.
It was that simple.
His expression, at twenty-eight, remained much like it had been in his youth. Wei Qingyue thought, How have you ended up like this, Zhuo Dao Ke? I thought it would be you asking me about algorithms and values, but there was nothing of the sort. Yet I bet you’ll sneak a peek at my interview video.
Wei Qingyue felt no imagined shock or sorrow—only joy. On a certain day at twenty-eight, he had seen someone.
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