"The People I Meet Always Vanish Without a Word" | At 22, What Is She Thinking? (15)

"I don't think I ever really knew any of the people I met on DoNever, Tantan, or through WeChat official accounts, and they didn't really know me either."

Editor's note: On June 20 we launched "The QDaily Big Survey: College Students," a series of dozens of articles on college students' spending, love lives, work and confusion, and on their attitude toward the virtual world. A large part of it will be the individual stories of the 50 students we interviewed. The fifteenth is a young woman who has "matched" with more than 180 people on each of two dating apps.

In sweltering Chengdu, Zhang Shu sat down in a tea room on her campus, got on the WiFi and reinstalled the two dating apps she had deleted more than six months ago — Tantan and DoNever. She wanted to talk about the people and the things she had run into on dating apps.

Tantan and DoNever are both face-swiping social apps: photos of people of the opposite sex come up on your screen, and you swipe left or right to say whether you like them or aren't interested. If two people both swipe right, you count as a match and can go on to chatting and a possible relationship. The difference is that DoNever is built on data from Renren, so its users are mostly students, while Tantan's come from all over.

On Tantan, 180 people have matched with Zhang Shu; on DoNever, 181. The first time she downloaded them she was a little excited — there were plenty of good-looking guys on there.

When there was nobody to have dinner or see a movie with, she picked a few of them to meet. But now, sipping pear juice and swiping through the dating apps she used to use, she sighs: "God! How did I ever go and meet people like that? I feel like there's something wrong with me. I must have been out of my mind." Still, she can give the exact date she met each one of them.

"I write down every movie I've seen, who I saw it with and where, in my notes app, like keeping a diary. It matters to me," she says.

We recorded Zhang Shu's story in her own words, so you can get to know her more directly.

I met one guy on Tantan. He studied oil painting, I study architecture — both a bit artsy, so we had something to talk about.

We agreed to get grilled fish just outside the school gate, and he dragged it out to 8:30 without paying the bill. The school shuttle stops running at 9:30 — what on earth was he thinking? We had been through everything we had in common, we had each smoked two cigarettes, and there was nothing left to say. Did he want me to pay? Fine by me. In the end, at 8:40, he went and paid, then held on to me and asked: do you really have to go back? Don't go back. I said I had to, and he walked off without looking back.

It really did hurt. I know there are plenty of people on Tantan looking for hookups — that's a normal human need, and as long as you feel safe about it there's nothing wrong with it. But I'm probably not starved enough for that, which is why we'd agreed neither of us was after it before we met — so it was a bit sad. If he'd said so earlier he wouldn't have had to come at all, wouldn't have had to buy me dinner and a movie, and could have saved himself the money. I even skipped class that day to see him — though, to be fair, I skip that class a lot anyway.

That was the trigger; I've been more careful since. But not the kind of careful I was the first time — I have changed. That first time I was incredibly nervous.

The first person I met I got to know on DoNever. We'd known each other two weeks. He was strange: the day we matched, he said he was going to delete the app, meaning he liked me a lot. I thought he was out of his mind, like he'd watched too many idol dramas. Later I ran into another one who said I was the only person he'd ever swiped right on and that he'd never swipe right on anyone again. Buddy, hand on your heart, have a good think: are you really never going to swipe right on anyone else? Please, go swipe right on some other people.

Back to that first meeting. I was on edge, terrified he'd be a letdown in person. I kept going over with my roommate what I should wear. I'm 1.73 meters tall — what if he wasn't tall? Should I wear heels? I had a class to rush to, so I did my makeup and got dressed over there, and ended up skipping lunch.

We agreed to meet outside the cinema, and I spotted him at once. Then I thought, this guy is tiny. Cute, actually, but about my height and so much thinner than me — he looked like my little brother. I felt we really didn't match at all. Anyway, we just grabbed some Japanese food and went to the movie.

But I don't know what I was thinking, because I actually told him my impression of him was pretty good. God... and so it didn't end there. Yet I also thought it was pointless, and I never said it was over either. I don't know what I was hesitating over; I just never turned him down. We saw one more movie and then it petered out on its own. I didn't delete him on WeChat — one more friend, one more road open. Then he started filling my whole feed with reseller ads, and I couldn't stand it, so I deleted him.

After that, meeting people from DoNever left me perfectly calm. I often saw several of them at the same time. Once, while I was eating with one, another messaged me on WeChat: I'm at your school gate. That felt normal. Nothing to it.

There were a few times that did scare me. The second person I met: one night we came out of a movie at close to midnight, the street was nearly empty, and it was raining. He kept saying, why don't you just stay. I couldn't tell whether he meant I should get my own room or share one with him; either way it felt dangerous. He wanted to meet once more after that, but I said no. It didn't feel right.

The third one: one evening we drifted around a mall and didn't go into a movie until 11 p.m. I think I had a death wish — going to a movie with someone at eleven at night. Looking back, I was reckless too: it was nearly 1 a.m. when the film ended and I still rode home in his car. The car was brand new; the plastic was still on the seats.

Then a friend introduced me to Tantan. I didn't find it very interesting — too many people on Tantan are looking for hookups — so I never arranged to meet anyone from it. Maybe the novelty had worn off as well. I told one guy I weighed 140 jin, about 70 kilos, and he actually believed it — 140 jin — and then he had nothing more to say. Very practical-minded, that one. And on Tantan people basically ask for your WeChat the moment you hit it off, whereas on DoNever they talk to you for a long time before they ask.

A classmate of mine found a boyfriend this way, but he often ignored her. I told her, he and I swiped right on each other too; want me to go flirt with him a bit? After chatting with him I found he had that "happy to hook up, happy to mess around" attitude, no intention of stopping, and the two of them broke up in the end. Another classmate has a boyfriend and still went out and met someone of her own. Maybe you get tired of your boyfriend sometimes. Everyone is casting a wide net and having a fine time.

I definitely hold plenty back with all of them, keep a way out. I don't think I ever really knew any of the people I met on DoNever, Tantan, or through WeChat official accounts, and they didn't really know me either.

The WeChat official-accounts platform is a place for getting yourself out of being single. On Singles' Day I met someone there. Since you add each other on WeChat directly — you're WeChat friends — it ranked a notch above Tantan for me. I ended up seeing him quite a few times. We added each other on WeChat that same day, and as I had nothing much on at the time, we met soon after.

That morning I'd gone to the old campus on my own for my thesis defense, and there was nobody to have lunch with, so I told him to come and keep me company. And then, on the very day we met, he said his birthday was coming up: come to my birthday party. How had we become the kind of people who go to each other's birthday parties? I said, we'll see, I'll come if I'm free. He turned out to be a guy who doesn't overthink a thing. Well, if you can be that casual about it, so can I.

By our second meeting he'd got to the point of driving over to pick me up... and then I got in and found he had a friend along. We'd met exactly once, and you're already having me meet your friend? They were both from Chengdu and spoke Sichuanese the whole way, which I don't speak. It felt as if the two of them were the couple and I was bumming a ride.

And that wasn't the end of it. That Friday night the car just drove and drove, through some traffic, onto the Second Ring Road, on an endless loop out to Pi County, and at seven we picked up his friend's girlfriend. Then we drove off to some inexplicable spot and ate at a no-name three-sauce braised-pot place. By then it was almost midnight, and I had no plans to watch a movie with them. He looked ready to fall out with me on the spot, so I called a Didi and went home myself.

The third time, he took me straight to meet a whole group of his friends. I didn't want to go. I felt this thing wasn't going to last and I really didn't need to meet every single friend of his. The fourth time was his birthday party. That day he seated a girl next to me, and she and I played a round of mahjong. It was obvious the two of them were seeing each other as well — did he think I couldn't tell? That was when I understood: since we were all just playing around, fine, let's play around.

He was a rich kid. His parents divorced when he was small, his stepmother didn't like him, and he lived on his own. Every time we talked he was either drinking or on his way to drink. He never told me in advance where we were going, only: you'll know when we get there, I'm not going to kidnap you. The last time we met, I had a wart on my foot and went to the hospital, and afterwards we went back to his place and watched a movie, very calmly.

He'd just had a fight with his father then, who he said had frozen his card, so he was broke: the only money he had was a bit over 100 yuan in his QQ wallet, and with no bank card linked to it he couldn't get it out, which is why we went home for a movie instead. After that we were done, and I still don't know why. That day, once we'd eaten, he took a call — there was a drinking session, he had to go drink again. The place was over by my school, so he dropped me back on the way. His phone was dead, so I gave him my power bank.

He never gave it back. I asked twice; he said he'd bring it to my school one of these days. By then I had no interest in him at all, I just wanted my power bank back. It simply struck me as strange, and I didn't want to keep after him — it was only ever a hang-out kind of relationship.

Maybe there's some regret in it. People who disappear without a word are strange, and yet they're the kind I meet every single time.

My boyfriend in my last year of junior high was the same. He vanished all of a sudden, changed his phone number, stopped answering on QQ; a month went by with no contact at all. By the time I saw him again I had no urge to ask him anything. I acted as though nothing had happened, went over and said a flat hello, and walked on. In my first year of high school he hinted at getting back together, but I wasn't interested any more, so that was the end of it.

I haven't been in a relationship since that one in junior high. Guys all seem so bizarre to me. You really can know a face and still not know the heart behind it. Back then, when I was upset, I'd write emo QQ blog posts, but I came out of that phase. In high school I didn't think about any of this. Between the dating apps and the WeChat official accounts there were two who counted as almost-something, but neither became an official relationship. After long enough, you stop expecting much from this sort of thing.

Last August was the last time I used DoNever, and that time it was for something useful. A classmate and I went to Hangzhou, where the China Academy of Art has a teaching building by Wang Shu. We wanted to go and see it, but so many people wanted in that the checks had suddenly got strict, so we wanted to find someone to take us inside and went hitting people up on DoNever. Everyone we matched with that night said they didn't know anyone.

You're asking whether I might be gay? I think I could meet a girl I like. But I'm sure I'll get married, to someone ordinary. My dad is an only child and I'm an only child too, so I not only have to marry, I have to have a child. I'm the only one left in our family; that matters a great deal to my dad and my grandfather.

I couldn't understand that before; now that I'm older I can. Family has grown more and more important to me bit by bit, and I think their wishes are worth fulfilling. I used to think family mattered less than friends — that was in junior high and high school. After starting college I came to feel that family is a very important part of life, my parents above all. Sometimes I really regret insisting on going to school this far from home.

If he's good-looking, I'm fine with a matchmade date. There's one such match in my phone right now. My dad asked the matchmaker about him right in front of me, decided he was a perfect fit and handed over my phone number without even asking the man's name. My dad is desperately worried I'll never be married off. I chatted with the guy that same day, not wanting to embarrass my dad; partway through I realized he had no interest in talking to me either, and we both cheerfully let it drop.

For now all I can do is hope my master's brings me a whole new batch of people.

(At the interviewee's request, all names in this article are pseudonyms.)

Cover image from: 163