“You have the usual bleeding hearts lamenting that the locals were prejudiced against the migrant workers. Then you have the other gang claiming that these foreigners are stealing their jobs and ought to be kicked out of Singapore. This plate of rice has been fried too many times. It’s boring.”

“Don’t you feel offended?” Hashwini frowned. “I mean, you are a foreigner working in Singapore.”

“Not really,” Jingxuan shrugged.

“But why? Some of the comments are so disrespectful!”

“In China, respect is not a given. You have to earn it. If you make something of yourself professionally or earn a tonne of money, people will naturally give you respect. But if you can’t or do nothing to improve your lot, why would you deserve respect?”

“But…” Hashwini struggled to comprehend Jingxuan’s viewpoint. “But surely it is wrong to look down on, say, the uncle or aunty from China who clears food trays at the food courts or empties wastepaper bins in the office?”

“Look at it this way—these people are saving up and sending money back to China to build houses in their village or hire workers to work on their farms. The villagers will give them respect when they return home loaded with cash. But while they are working here, I don’t think they are necessarily looking for the same from your people. That’s not what they’re here for.”

Hashwini pouted but kept her opinion to herself. Perhaps Jingxuan had a valid point. Her comrades did appear to abide by different game rules, rules that allowed a casino high roller like the Beast to dictate grammar and spelling outside the Oxford Dictionary.

Before her break ended, Hashwini was delighted to spot a message from Euu Ki on her mobile phone. He had swapped shifts with another colleague so that he could come over to her place tonight to work on Teen RV. Although the two would not admit it, the blog had progressively taken over their lives. They could not wait to log on and check the chain of reader comments they had to reply to and the newest challenge from Daxue they had to respond to. Just two nights ago, another one of the five bloggers they had launched an offensive against finally decided to take up the bait. The spike in viewership shared between Teen RV and Daxue must have elicited jealousy.

You are out of chips. Get some Pringles Hot & Spicy. Euu Ki texted her a reminder.

On her way home, Hashwini chose to alight one bus stop earlier, cross the road and slip into Nayagam Ranjan’s provision shop. Her shopping basket was only half-full when she felt someone tug at her sleeve. It was Kaustubh.

“We need to talk.”

Intrigued by the urgency in his tone, Hashwini allowed him to usher her into the storage room. They had not met since the night of the riot.

“The police are looking for you.”