Will a Korean go out with a Muslim girl?

From the Chinese internet The nightlife of Wudaokou

Known as a student quarter, startup center, center of the Beijing rock scene, foreigner quarter, party mile: Wudaokou in the north-west of Beijing. A night visit.

There are a dozen colleges here, including Peking University and Tsinghua University. In addition, some giants of the Internet industry have their headquarters here, for example SINA, Netease and Sohu. Even if these are already considered somewhat out of date in the industry, the average age of their workforces is still relatively low. But more recent Internet success stories also have their origin here, including the video appKuaishou, Renrenwang, Storm Codec (Baofeng), Fanfou, the delivery service Meituan, the travel portal Kuxunwho have favourited RSS reading app Zhuaxia, the fashion app Meilishuo, the music app Kuwo and the friendship app Yijian. Their combined market value is said to be $ 50 billion. It used to be one of two neighborhoods in Beijing where a lot of Koreans were based (the other is Wangjing).

Often Wudaokou is also referred to as the "center of the universe"; the name was probably dated Underground center embossed, which was pulled up on the site of the former Wudaokou department store. That was 30 years ago Underground center the busiest place in Wudaokou.

All of this is of course enlivened by the young people here.

We have chosen three perspectives to describe Wudaokou: First, the nightlife with the ups and downs of its clubs and bars and its audience. Second, the popular place 706, where many exciting, inspiring educational and cultural events take place. Third, the universities, where you can always find people who seem to know everyone (maybe it really is) and get involved everywhere. They are ambitious and curious about Wudaokou and the opportunities it offers.

The beggar Zhang Rong and a couple of Nepalese people

It's just after eleven in the evening. Zhang Rong from Henan approaches the young people with her white enamel bowl to punch them for money. The rioters, the drunk or the strikingly dressed partiers are their main target groups. If she is lucky, she will earn over 100 yuan in the evening, which is worth standing in front of the Beijing Book Building in Zhongguancun for more than a day.

She came to Beijing five years ago and has only worked in that area since then. There are many students and generous spirits here, there is always someone who wants to save face from the opposite sex.

That evening she got her first coin from a disappointed Nepalese.

The Nepalese stands in front of the with two friends Global. In a short internal vote, he will be chosen to play the pickup today. Two female students from the Beijing University of Chemical Technology sit less than ten meters away. You are already a little drunk. “I want a foreign friend,” says one loudly. “That suits you, you're a Muslim, aren't you?” Replies the other.

The Nepalese pulls out a cigarette and approaches the Muslim student: "Do you have a lighter?"

The girls barely understand his English accent, but that doesn't matter. He changes to Chinese, also with an accent, and asks which university you are at, how many people you came with and when you came here today. He compliments them on their appearance and then gives them some information himself: Nepalese, Peking University, medical school, Hindu. When he says “Peking University”, he pauses for a few seconds to give the girls space for a surprised exclamation.

"Do we want to have a drink together? My friends and I invite you. ”He points to his buddies who casually look over from a distance. Finally he got to the point. Zhang Rong has recognized her opportunity and positions himself next to the group. The Nepalese reaches into his wallet and gives her a coin.

The girls still hesitate. Two tall guys approach and interrupt the conversation. "What are you talking about here so stupidly? Come on, finally dance. ”The two tower over the Nepalese by a head, so that he involuntarily takes a step backwards. “Do you have a lighter?” He asks the two guys out of a flash of thought.

They don't even notice him. It seems that they have only just met the girls. “I'm also studying at Peking University, do you think so?” One of them asks the Muslim girl, and she starts giggling. Then the four of them walk together in the direction propaganda from that.

The Nepalese shakes his head - and his buddies know.

The "hormones"

The name Wudaokou (literally: five + level crossing) originally referred to the fifth level crossing on the Beijing-Zhangjiakou line - counted from Beijing North Railway Station. It took this small hamlet with around a hundred grain farmers 60 years to become the “center of the universe”. The energy that drives the development of this place is the youth.

University lecturers, company founders, Chinese and foreigners, pubs, bookstores, bosses and university graduates. The newspaper Beijing Business Today published statistics at the end of 2016 according to which there are almost 400 restaurants in Wudaokou, in which you can eat from twenty, thirty to several hundred yuan. There are also over 300 entertainment establishments for small and large budgets. "Here you see billionaires next to pancake sellers, on the left you have restaurants with dishes from 200 yuan, on the right a bunch of street vendors with T-shirts for 20 yuan each, or three for 50." With these words, architect Liu Chan describes the question- and answer website Zhihuwhich is why she likes Wudaokou.

The cycle of decay and renewal is particularly fast here. Over the past twenty years, the new U-Center has replaced the old Wudaokou department store, the Sohu Tower has grown beyond the main building of Tsinghua University, and the former clothing wholesale market has become a well-tended green space. The Taiwanese dessert chain Meetfresh has the bankrupt bookstore chain Photosynthesis and Wangzhuang Street changed from a narrow, unpaved alley to Korean Food Street and is now a green zone. The last passenger train passed through Wudaokou on October 31, 2016, after which the 106-year-old Tsinghua Campus railway station was closed and the level crossing was dismantled. It will be replaced by the Beijing-Zhangjiakou high-speed line, which is being built for the 2022 Winter Olympics.
The U-Center in Wudaokou | © yì magazìnThe bars and pubs where the young people meet reflect youth, contradiction and change. Everything here is full of random, fleeting happiness. "You think they have found their way to happiness, sitting there with their drinks in their hands." This is how Qiaqia describes it, who comes to Wudaokou once a week.

Wudaokou is fun, lots of students, pretty, young and naive. Everything is expensive at the workers' station.

In the bars of Wudaokou there is a lot going on from 11 in the evening until 5 in the morning, longer than in Sanlitun and at the workers' stadium, the nightlife districts in the east of the city. A dozen bars and clubs are lined up a few hundred meters south of the intersection of Chengfu Road and Heqing Road. There are rather quiet music bars like Steps and La Bamba as Mojitowhere mojitos in plastic cups are sold for 15 yuan from a small window. Most popular are clubs like Global Warehouse (called "The Warehouse"), sensation ("S"), propaganda ("PPG") and Dopamine. PPG was one of the earliest clubs and was founded in 2006 by members of a campus band from Tsinghua University, but its popularity has now shifted towards the "S".
Soundcheck in Wudaokou | © yì magazìnWhat is the same always and everywhere are the groups of young people in hip-hop clothes, the empty beer cans, butts and vomit. And the operators of the clubs: sensation, Wu Club, propaganda and Steps all belong to the same owner. Dopamine is the work of one of the biggest names in the workers' stadium scene. On just a few hundred meters of the street, they monopolize the nightlife of around 1,500 young people every evening.

The alcohol here is relatively cheap at 20-30 yuan per glass. With the exception of the Global, which has private séparees, most clubs are very similarly equipped: a bar, a dance floor and booths that are modeled on train compartments. Most guests like to have a few glasses upstairs before heading down to the basement to dance. When it gets too stuffy for them, they go out into the air, crouch down or lean somewhere, smoke one, chat a little and then go back, drink more, keep dancing. So the night goes by very quickly.

The clock at the top of the U-Center department store next to the subway station shows the time exactly, but the young people don't pay any attention to it. “Wudaokou is fun, lots of students, pretty, young and naive. Everything is expensive at the workers' station, ”says Wang Xie, who has been hanging out on Caijing East Street for 12 years.

Li Hai, the (vice) bank director and me

As I am drifting across the dance floor, someone touches my shoulder. "Are you alone? Would you like to have a drink with us? ”Asks Li Hai politely. He looks very cultivated.

For ten days now, the task of getting access to the people here has been on me more and more and I feel more and more like a rather unsuccessful journalist. We all know that there aren't many places in Beijing where young people can let off steam, and Wudaokou is one of them.

Elsewhere, the capital has gone through so many "this is forbidden and that is not allowed" phases that it is depressing. The proportion of young people is getting smaller and smaller anyway and the rigid, regulated life narrows us. One thing is certain: the young people's attitude towards life is not really taken into account in official Beijing and often it does not even correspond to the officially propagated core values.

But how should I approach this euphoric crowd? It wasn't easy at all. My failure was that nobody wanted to answer questions: “You want to interview me? Why is that? "

After at least thirty people refused to speak to me, I decided to risk more! So I assumed the identity of a lonely girl who comes to Wudaokou alone to have a drink and some fun in a bar.

Li Hai prefers Wudaokou: the alcohol is cheap, the music is loud and there are lots of pretty students out and about. You can dance and drink until dawn and then have a cheap jianbing.

In this situation, Li Hai found me on the dance floor, touched my shoulder and asked, “Are you alone? Do we want to have a drink together? "

He introduced himself, said he was 25 years old, a manager in the corporate banking division of a bank, and comes to Wudaokou twice a month. His white shirt and gold-framed glasses didn't seem to match the atmosphere in the bar. Li Hai was there with a married colleague and a supervisor, the latter allegedly one of the bank's "vice directors".

There aren't many nightlife areas in Beijing: Sanlitun and the area around the workers' stadium emerged relatively early due to their proximity to the foreign embassies, but their proximity to the business district is now driving their gentrification. Therefore, they no longer seem particularly youthful.

Li Hai prefers Wudaokou: the alcohol is cheap, the music is loud and there are many pretty students out and about. You can dance and drink until dawn and then have another cheap one Jianbingeat.

An hour later, I finally felt a bit dizzy. I had lost countless rounds of card games and had four shots and a cocktail. I saw two other students from Beijing Foreign Languages ​​University join our group, as well as two girls who were attracted to the "vice director." One of them referred to himself as a "headhunter" and, interestingly, made her debut with the words "Here should there be a bank director somewhere? ”I tried to escape during this lesson by saying I had to go to the bathroom, but Li Hai met me at the entrance and asked me to come back, and then I witnessed a mini-midlife crisis who sent the bank director a touch of self-doubt that night: "I was born in 1982 and divorced for a year. Do you think I'm old?"

At half past one at night, Li Hai and the girls were enjoying themselves on the dance floor again. The supervisor looked pretty old now and was pretty drunk. I was finally able to get away.

A bartender, a taxi driver and their nightly customers

Bartender Liu Feng often sees guests like Li Hai. Men who always come alone; two years after graduation, checkered shirt and glasses, a full employee of the China Merchants Bank; or those who always wear the same sweatshirt. They look out for specially drunk girls unaccompanied on the dance floor and their pick-up always goes the same way: strolling over, offering a drink, connecting on Wechat and finally establishing body contact while dancing. Some of them get pretty explicit: "You have a great body" or "I love you".

Liu Feng thinks that's okay as long as the girls get involved. Bartender Liu Feng's life is very organized: after dinner at 6 p.m., he goes to the club and prepares for his shift. He has breakfast at seven in the morning, goes home and goes to sleep. That's how it goes every day.

He thinks that they hardly differ from those in Sanlitun, they also say the same things: How many new WeChat contacts do you have? How many glasses of Baxi schnapps knocks a guy? Don't forget to take some betel nuts in your pocket for the high.

On the other hand, 22-year-old Wang Jiayu is wary of men like Li Hai. She calls it "greasy", even if she cannot formulate what that means exactly. She came to Wudaokou for the first time at the beginning of her studies to distract herself from an acute lovesickness. Wang Jiayu only goes tosensationbecause she knows her way around well. Plus, she always comes with the same friends and rarely speaks to strangers unless they are also studying at Beijing Union University or you get along well.

At 2:00 am, Wang Jiayu has been here for three hours and has no plans to return to college anytime soon. She is leaning against the black metal fence in front of the sensation and smokes a cigarette. Wang Jiayu wears a large t-shirt, large round silver earrings and bright red lipstick. She's free the next day, so she wants to hang out with her friends until five in the morning and then have breakfast until her dorm opens. To keep the mood going, she calls a guy she's from the sensation knows.
Sensation in Wudaokou | © yì magazìnThe boy is at the same university as Wang Jiayu, but is studying a different subject. Now he's coming from a bar in Liudaokou. The two immediately start flirting. The conversation has little substance, but the mood is good. "Isn't there anything going on in Liudaokou?" "Yes, there are three young women waiting for me." "I didn't beg for you to come." "I only came because you suffer from lovesickness." The boy takes a drag on his cigarette and takes out a small bag of betel nuts, puts a few in his mouth and chews them to stay sober.

Not far from them is Zhang Tingting, also lamenting a relationship that has ended. She met the two Beijing women she huddled with in a bar in Wudaokou. Her ex-boyfriend was a neighbor of the two, also from Beijing. Zhang Tingting believes her boyfriend left her because she is not from Beijing. "I come from outside, so he just played with me ... and I ... I thought he was serious." She sobs loudly and the words well out between sobs, the syllables "from outside" can be heard most clearly.

One of the Beijing girls gets up and takes her in her arms, her butt falls on the floor. “Nobody here asks where you come from. Whether you go together is fate. Come on, let's have a drink. ”Side by side, the three disappear into the crowd.

Mr. Fang is 33, from Yanqing, north Beijing, and has been driving a taxi for four years, but only on night shifts. It goes from six in the evening to six in the morning. He says of his late guests: "Drunk people, rioters and drunkards."

Most of all, Mr. Fang detests the drunk.If he sees someone who can no longer walk straight ahead and waves to him, he prefers to step on the accelerator. He doesn't care about drunk people as long as they don't cause trouble in his vehicle. He prefers the rioters, especially those who want to spend a night of love. Mr. Fang takes them to a private club or an hourly hotel in a small alley. He gets up to 200 yuan in commission for the former, and a few yuan for the latter.

In Wudaokou, Mr. Fang finds customers who are totally drunk or couples who have only just met. He thinks that they hardly differ from those in Sanlitun, they also say the same things: How many new WeChat contacts do you have? How many glasses of Baxi schnapps knocks a guy? Don't forget to take some betel nuts in your pocket for the high. Mr. Fang is a little jealous, he would like to try them, but he hasn't had the time yet.

"Where are you going to have breakfast? Let me know, I'll come with you, ”calls Mr. Fang into his cell phone.

As the Douban cultural critic Chen Mo Wudaokou interprets

Chen Mo has a popular post on the culture website Douban got to know whom he wrote: "I picked up a girl in a club, now she's been living with me for six months". After contacting him through Douban, Chen Mo quickly agreed to meet me at a cafe in Wangjing, where he regularly meets with playwrights. Chen Mo works as a sales manager for a sensor company and also as a "freelance" writer and screenwriter. The article is fictional, but based on real experiences in the sensation. "There is a mistake in the article," says Chen Mo. "The phrase 'skeleton in the garden' is not from Wang Xiaobo, but from Wang Shuo."

As a writer, Chen Mo wants “people to read them to believe the stories are true.” So he writes his stories in the form of personal revelations and posts them as sequel stories on Baidu Tieba, Douban, and Tianya. They are partly true, partly fictional, and dispense with rhetorical finesse. He goes to bars not only because of the kicks induced by eroticism, music and alcohol, but also out of curiosity as a writer. He looks for material and inspiration, pays attention to the mental state of the people and "how they drop their masks, one situation at a time."

Wudaokou is less snobbish than the workers' stadium. There are also organizers of “rounds” here, but mostly friends just meet and girls also come without having to reserve a booth. This is one of the reasons why many of my interviewees use the words "naive" or "simple" when describing Wudaokou.

The first time he went to a club in Beijing, Chen Mo was still in college. In his hometown, he had earned tens of thousands of yuan from tutoring during the vacation and was now organizing "rounds" with his girlfriend at the workers' stadium. These "rounds" are based on using some of the rules of the workers' stadium clubs to earn commissions: To attract girls, you have to reserve a seating area ("cabin") where the minimum consumption is 2,000 to 3,000 yuan. The “head” first opens the round himself and is then responsible for the organization of the participants, above all he has to take care of a sufficient number of girls. There is usually no money to be made with girls; their function is to attract men to the round. They pay 400 yuan per head to be included in the round; one round can bring the "head" 4,000 to 6,000 yuan.

This business model later even spawned two Beijing startups: Combo PlayJuBeijing and Flame. The more official name for these companies was "Vertical e-commerce company for urban parties and gatherings." Received in March 2015 Combo PlayJuBeijing a 5 million yuan angel investment from Hongtai Aplus and Ameba Capital.

Also in 2015, Chen Mo started working on his career in Zhongguancun, and so his nightlife shifted from the workers' stadium to Wudaokou. In 2011 he graduated with a degree in nuclear energy and came to Beijing because the choice of positions in his field was very limited. Typically, one worked in a provincial nuclear power plant and earned 150,000 200,000 yuan a year. Since this prospect did not appeal to him, in 2015 Chen Mo contacted a fellow student who had a company in Zhongguancun and started sales. He likes the job for the same reason he likes going to bars: he meets a lot of people and has many opportunities to watch them.

Wudaokou is less snobbish than the workers' stadium. There are also organizers of “rounds” here, but mostly friends just meet and girls also come without having to reserve a booth. This is one of the reasons why many of my interviewees use the words "naive" or "simple" when describing Wudaokou.

However, “simply” relates more to the way people interact with them than to the people. Chen Mo finds the audience at Wudaokou to be more diverse than at the Workers' Stadium, which tends to attract an established, adult audience. When the Wu Club was less strictly regulated, there was still a lot of smoking weed there; now there are more old hands there - people who go to bars regularly, “social calm spots” so to speak. sensation is the hottest shop with the best “quality” for girls and boys, for example the boys from Beijing Sports University like to go here. The Global With its more luxurious furnishings, higher prices and a concentration of rich kids, it is more similar to the bars on Gongti.

When the masks fall, it is often unpleasant. That's why Chen Mo doesn't want to be part of the scene. You should never lend money to one of the old hands like this - unreliable types with money running through their fingers like water are not a minority. Nor should you believe everything that is said in the clubs - 90 percent of the people who show off their watches or sports cars are blenders. The same goes for the stories of picking up drunk girls on the side of the road to take home - known as "corpse-busting". Hardly any girl gets drunk alone, says Chen Mo, at least he has never seen anything like it.

“The bars and clubs of Wudaokou are vibrant and sociable,” says Chen Mo. “Alcohol and music pull you in and communication, decisions and actions between the sexes are very fast. I've seen guys chat up seven or eight girls in one night and, if they're interested after two drinks, continue flirting or cuddling in a sitting area. To really understand what's going on, you have to experience it for yourself. "

Chris and Roland - two Americans in Wudaokou

From April to June 2017, Chris and Roland ran the bar Level up on Caijing East Road, right next to the propaganda. The rent for the place ranged from 20,000 to 30,000 yuan a month, and they shared the space with a flower shop and nail salon. Flowers were sold during the day and it opened from 5 p.m. to 2 a.m. or 5 a.m. Level up.

Chris first came to China 10 years ago to study at Tianjin Foreign Studies University. He then went to Beijing, taught English at a language school and lived in Wudaokou. He was also a member of the Smash Brothers, a gamer collective in Beijing, and enjoyed playing at the video arcade in Beiluoguxiang. Since that was quite a distance from his apartment, Chris had the idea to open a gamer bar in Wudaokou.

Compared to Sanlitun and the Gulou, this idea might be a particularly good fit for Wudaokou, as many young foreigners between the ages of 18 and 28 live here who are not only looking for a place to date, but also one where they feel at home, such as Example of a classic gamer bar. Chris did not see young Chinese as a target group, as he assumed that they were associated with the concept of "Barcade", the video games, restaurant and music bar à la Dave & Buster's united, not as familiar as Americans.

He found them all rather unsatisfactory, however, because apart from their names they hardly differed from one another. The empty glasses were often not put away, the music was always the same and boomed at 120 decibels. The staff was poorly paid and the service accordingly miserable. The drinks never changed, and it was almost impossible to check whether the ingredients were genuine.

Originally from Monrovia near Los Angeles, Roland settled in Wudaokou after visiting friends in Beijing in October 2015. He describes his hometown in California as perfect as well as boring: “It's a quiet town in the mountains, where people who walk their dogs all know and say hello to you. Not too far away are beaches, dunes, mountains and ski areas, as well as Disneyland and the Universal Studios Theme Park. No matter what you want to do, you drive a maximum of two hours to get there. But I am not one of those people who are content to eat the same thing every day. "

Roland has a lot of experience: he worked at Starbucks and was a paratrooper in Iraq, was a welder for the oil companies BP and ConocoPhillips, studied history and business administration at California State University and was a mercenary for Blackwater International in Afghanistan. “In the 2nd Battalion, 75th Army Regiment,” as he says with some pride.

Roland was a regular in the bars of Wudaokou. He found them all rather unsatisfactory, however, because apart from their names they hardly differed from one another. The empty glasses were often not put away, the music was always the same and boomed at 120 decibels. The staff was poorly paid and the service accordingly miserable. The drinks never changed, and it was almost impossible to check whether the ingredients were genuine. Roland tried to address these issues at first, but nobody seemed to care.

After six months of preparation, it opened Level up its doors. The room was only 80 square meters and could accommodate a maximum of 30-35 people at peak times. It was comfortably furnished for that. There was a small kitchen that served Western fast food, six TVs and a variety of game consoles: Xbox 360, Xbox One, PS3, PS4, Wii, Wii U, Nintendo 64. Contrary to their expectations, there were not only foreigners among the guests, but also some young Chinese who enjoyed playing video games. Roland describes the clientele as "sometimes a bit strange, but everyone is a bit of a nerd somewhere, right?"

The anger they experienced in just three months of their pub opening left Chris and Roland absolutely frustrated. Sometimes it was the landlord, sometimes the police, who repeatedly demanded that the shop be closed at short notice or that opening times be shortened. During the New Silk Road Symposium, Chris recalls, all bars and restaurants in Wudaokou should be closed from five or six in the afternoon. After that, business recovered from Level up for a while, especially on the weekends. But the security guards from propaganda, La Bamba and other bars kept mingling with the guests and taking photos. After a few weeks, the landlord gave notice and that Level up had to close promptly.

Actually, Chris wanted to reopen the bar in a different location afterwards, but couldn't find anything suitable. Either the rent was too high or the place too remote. In addition, there were the strict fire protection measures and the new controls on the flow of people in Wudaokou. Along with the news of closings and "beautification" in Sanlitun and the demolition of the Gulou, Chris realized that the nightlife in Beijing was becoming increasingly restricted.

After the closure of the Level up The other business partners looked for new jobs: as a photo model, as a web designer and, in one case, in a hospital for the treatment of infertility.

In December 2017, Chris moved back to the United States. He has no plans to live in China any longer.

Roland no longer comes to Wudaokou either, but rather frequented bars in Sanlitun, Wangjing and Beixinqiao. He has leased a piece of land in Pinggu where he offers survival training for young people. From the history of the Level up he learned the importance of building relationships when doing business in China. However, he has still not found an explanation as to why the bars on Caijing East Road, which are all like pebbles, are so successful. It could have something to do with, he thinks, that they have a thick financial ceiling and that foreigners who want to do business in Beijing are obviously not welcome.

Still, he likes to think back to how satisfying the brief experience in Wudaokou was and he is still sometimes addressed on the street: “Hey, aren't you the guy who had the gamer bar? Why did you close? "

Roland remains convinced that he will succeed with another business idea in Beijing.

4:00 am: Wang Xie and I in the hotpot restaurant

I studied Wang Xie at four in the morning before Dopamine know. He thought I was unexpected prey. It wasn't until a week later that I revealed to him that I was a journalist.

According to Wang Xie's own account, he has little concern for money. He lives mainly from selling headphones on the Internet: "Sony's second largest dealer in China." In addition, Wang Xie, flexible and ambitious as he is, also held "rounds", collecting a commission of 1,000 yuan each time. He was for that 20 days in a row in Wudaokou. That was hard work, but to earn your money as a “head of a round” you need regular customers and you have to take very good care of your customers: prevent them from getting drunk senselessly, and that for the drunk Paying a taxi and making sure they get home safely. Because it was too exhausting for him, he thought of something new: he said he wanted to speculate with Bitcoin.

Reality is probably not that rosy and his everyday life is not as cozy as he says. To please the girls, he borrows his cousin's Audi Q7 and that he only ins Dopamine goes has a reason: he knows people there and gets free drinks.

It doesn't matter who I'm chatting with, we'll have a drink and I'll tell you something, right? Here's the beer, what else do you want to hear, little one?

When we met in Wudaokou at 4 a.m., it was a normal day for Wang Xie. That night he had only been able to add three girls to his WeChat contacts and none of them had called him. His cousin and a buddy Hai Ge with whom he was traveling were just as unlucky. New friends on WeChat do not mean that there will be more of it. When I ran into him for the second time at the entrance, he hesitated for a few seconds and then said: "We're going to have something to eat, will you come with us?"

When I said yes, Wang Xie looked a little surprised. We drove straight to a hotpot branch of the Haidilao chain. The cousin found an excuse and drove off in his Q7. Perhaps to “save face”, Wang Xie and his buddy Hai Ge chose a séparee. They ordered five hotpot ingredients: beef, tofu skin, potato slices, green vegetables, and enoki mushrooms. And then another six bottles of Xuehua beer - he probably thought this was his chance.

Wang Xie comes to Wudaokou to drink beer, but also because of the girls.

He is from Inner Mongolia and studied at the Chinese University of Geosciences, where he graduated six years ago. He now lives with his mother in a small rented apartment in Yizhuang. His mother does not urge him to marry and does not care about the numerous girls he brings home: "How can someone who cannot stand on his own two feet afford a wife?"

This information came up a week later when we met again in Yizhuang. That morning at Haidilao, I had insisted on going home and so disappointed his hopes. He spent the next two days in Wudaokou again and it took him a while to remember who I was. I revealed my identity to Wang Xie and asked him to tell me about his life.

“It doesn't matter who I'm chatting with, we'll have a drink and I'll tell you something, right? Here's the beer, what else do you want to hear, little one? ”Wang Xie was delighted at the request for an interview. He just asked why there wasn't a photographer. He thought he was going to be on TV.

The names of the people in the text have been changed.
 
LIU Lutian

LIU Lutian is a freelance journalist and translator from Wuhan. She lives and works in Beijing and Wuhan.

Translation: Maja Linnemann from the Chinese

Copyright: © Q-Daily (好奇心 日报)