CS - 16

The next day, Lin Zhe Xia was awakened by a strong beam of sunlight.

The curtains were only half-drawn, and the dazzling light poured directly into the room, illuminating the entire living room.

If not for the still-wet ground outside, she might have thought that last night’s downpour had been nothing more than an imagined nightmare.

But as she sat up on the sofa and ran her fingers through her hair, she noticed the neatly arranged mattress and blanket on the carpet, pulling her memories back to the previous night.

The sounds she had heard by her ear last night.

And the bedtime story about the little rabbits—it hadn’t been a dream.

She picked up her phone and checked the time.

8:23 AM.

She opened her contact list and sent a few messages to Chi Yao.

-Are you back yet?

-Do you want to grab breakfast later?

-I’ll treat you to soup dumplings. Don’t be polite—I’ll let you eat until you’re full for free.

Chi Yao probably hadn’t left long ago, as he marked the message as “read.”

With Lin He gone and no one cooking at home, breakfast naturally had to be eaten out.

There was a row of shops outside the neighborhood entrance, with several breakfast places lined up side by side.

After eating there for so many years, the kids in the neighborhood had all become familiar faces to the shop owners.

Lin Zhe Xia pulled Chi Yao into the breakfast shop, and before they could even place their order, the middle-aged woman behind the counter greeted them with a smile: “Xiao Xia, here already? Xiao Chi too. What would you two like today? Soup dumplings?”

Lin Zhe Xia found an empty seat and took off her thick white down jacket while saying, “How did you guess right away? I feel like I don’t even need to place an order…”

The boss, a middle-aged woman, joked as she punched numbers into the calculator: “You don’t need to order. Just scan the code. If anything we bring you isn’t to your liking, this meal’s on the house.”

The place was filled with the lively atmosphere of everyday life. The kitchen was steaming buns, and when the lid was lifted, the aroma wafted out with the steam.

Lin Zhe Xia asked Chi Yao: “How many baskets do you want?”

Chi Yao hadn’t answered yet.

Worried he might order too much, she quickly added, “Even though I said I’d treat you to as much as you can eat, breakfast should still be balanced. Look at the tofu pudding or pumpkin porridge—they’re nutritious and cheaper.”

Chi Yao wore a black sweater today, his hair slightly longer, accentuating his sharp brows and eyes, exuding an air of arrogance that couldn’t be ignored.

He let out a soft snort: “Coward, is this how you treat someone to a meal?”

“…” Lin Zhe Xia slowly admitted, “I tend to go back on my word.”

Soon, their food arrived.

Lin Zhe Xia had been talking about soup dumplings since last night, and now she stayed true to her word, focusing intently on eating them.

One basket each.

After finishing her portion, Lin Zhe Xia stared at Chi Yao’s remaining dumplings.

When Chi Yao lowered his head to drink some porridge, she swiftly reached over with her chopsticks and placed one in her bowl.

Thinking her stealthy operation had gone unnoticed, she repeated it twice more—until a sudden voice interrupted her: “Did you really think I didn’t see?”

Lin Zhe Xia: “….”

She looked up, meeting Chi Yao’s gaze.

Lin Zhe Xia clutched her bowl and said, “I figured someone as generous as you wouldn’t mind.”

“Sorry,” Chi Yao said, “I do mind.”

Lin Zhe Xia: “I already complimented you on being generous. Shouldn’t you just take the compliment?”

Chi Yao: “Oh, I’m stingy.”

Lin Zhe Xia: “Well, I’ve already eaten them. You can’t expect me to…”

Before she could finish, Chi Yao leaned back slightly: “Then spit them out.”

“…”

In the end, those soup dumplings still ended up in her stomach.

Though Chi Yao complained, he chose to turn a blind eye when her chopsticks made another attempt to steal more.

________________________________________

As usual during winter break, Lin Zhe Xia spent most of her time at Chi Yao’s place.

With Lin He gone, she visited even more frequently.

On Chi Yao’s sofa lay a small blanket she used to keep warm, along with a few manga books she’d brought from home. On the coffee table were her favorite snacks, and on the desk, mixed among Chi Yao’s textbooks, were hers as well.

Occasionally, He Yang would drop by to escape his mother: “Xia Ge, anyone who doesn’t know would think this is your house.”

Lin Zhe Xia was sharing a desk with Chi Yao, working on Second High’s identical winter break homework assignments. She occasionally glanced at Chi Yao’s answers.

Without hesitation, she replied, “What are you doing in my house?”

He Yang: “…You really don’t hold back, do you?”

Lin Zhe Xia: “It’s fine, right?”

He Yang turned to look at Chi Yao.

His big bro was casually jotting down answers onto the test paper with a black pen.

After finishing, he raised his other hand, placing his palm on top of Lin Zhe Xia’s head and turning her face back toward her own paper: “Figure it out yourself.”

Lin Zhe Xia: “Fine, I’ll figure it out myself. This question is easy. It’s not like I don’t know how to solve it.”

He Yang felt like an outsider.

This place didn’t seem to have any space for him.

The holiday was boring.

After they finished their homework, He Yang enthusiastically asked, “Do you guys want to play a game?”

Lin Zhe Xia glanced at his phone screen and recognized the game Chi Yao had been playing during summer break.

She rarely played games herself because she wasn’t very good at them, which made it hard for her to feel a sense of accomplishment. Compared to gaming, she preferred binge-watching shows or hanging out with classmates during the holidays.

“It’s fine,” she said, having nothing else to do at the moment. “But I’m not very good at it.”

He Yang: “It doesn’t matter if you haven’t played before. Me and Yao Ge will carry you.”

Lin Zhe Xia skeptically asked, “Can you really carry me?”

“…” He Yang said, “Even if you don’t trust me, you should trust Yao Ge.”

And so, Lin Zhe Xia entered the Summoner’s Rift.

When choosing a name, she thought for a moment and randomly typed “Plop.”

A little while later, the other two came online as well.

He Yang’s username was “CarryTheGame,” while Chi Yao’s name appeared cold and aloof—a single period.

The game had been popular for a long time, and Lin Zhe Xia vaguely understood its mechanics.

Once the game started, she wandered around the rift like she was taking a leisurely stroll, using whichever skill was ready and often missing her mark.

Even so, she was rarely targeted by the enemy team. Every time she was surrounded, just as she was about to shout, “Please spare me!” the silent jungler, Period, would mysteriously appear by her side, decisively eliminating the threats before retreating back into the jungle.

Thus, she strolled freely, confident enough to even consider wandering into the enemy’s territory if she wanted.

He Yang enthusiastically praised her atrocious gameplay: “Xia Ge, that misplaced ultimate you just used must have been part of your unique strategy, right? I get it now—you disdain using your ultimate to defeat him. You’re humiliating him, trying to crush his spirit. Genius!”

“Xia Ge, that fake-out of yours created an opening for me. The kill I got earlier? All thanks to you.”

“…”

“Thanks,” Lin Zhe Xia said, “but next time, maybe draft your compliments beforehand.”

Chi Yao didn’t talk much while playing.

Lin Zhe Xia stole a glance at him. He operated his character with nonchalance.

Occasionally, he would throw out a few short sentences to her.

“Come here.”

“No need to run.”

“He’s dead.”

The feeling of being carried was strange.

No matter where or when, Chi Yao always appeared first.

It reminded her of that day in the alley when he unexpectedly pulled her into his arms.

While shouting “Amazing 666,” Lin Zhe Xia’s thoughts involuntarily drifted. As she moved her character around, she asked, “Do you often carry… people to higher ranks? Otherwise, why are you so skilled?”

In her mind, boys who were good at games usually carried many others.

So had he carried many people?

Chi Yao glanced at her but didn’t say anything. He Yang seized the topic and began complaining: “Him? Please. With his temper, carrying people? Forget it.”

“The last time I queued with him, we matched with a teammate—a girl. She called out to him over the mic, ‘Big Brother, save me!’ And what did he do? Didn’t even flinch.”

“Then, after she died, she asked, ‘Why didn’t you save me earlier?’ Do you know what he said?”

“You wanna know what he said? He said, ‘Not your brother. None of my business.’”

“Listen to that! Is that even human? How could he talk to a girl like that?!”

Lin Zhe Xia: “…Indeed. It’s surprising he didn’t get reported.”

That conversation ended there.

Her wandering thoughts halted abruptly upon hearing He Yang’s words.

She continued staring at her phone screen, unable to grasp the fleeting emotion. But somehow, the character she controlled seemed to walk with lighter steps.

________________________________________

Lin He and Wei Ping stayed a few extra days in the neighboring city and returned later than expected.

They arrived home in the evening.

Lin Zhe Xia had just fallen asleep when she heard the sound of keys unlocking the door.

She climbed out of bed and ran to the entrance, giving Lin He a hug after days of separation.

Lin He carried several items they’d brought back: “Why aren’t you asleep yet? I thought you’d be asleep by now.”

Lin Zhe Xia said, “I was about to sleep when I heard the sound.”

After a brief hug, she turned to Wei Ping and greeted him with a “Uncle Wei.”

Wei Ping smiled, setting down the things he was carrying, and said, “I brought you a gift. Let’s see if you like it.”

Wei Ping always brought her small gifts when he returned from business trips.

But most of them were things she didn’t particularly like. Influenced by stereotypes, Wei Ping always assumed girls liked pink, princess dresses, and sparkly crystal ornaments.

Truthfully, she didn’t like pink.

Sure enough, this time Wei Ping presented her with a fluffy pink plush toy.

“This doll is quite cute,” Wei Ping said. “I saw it while passing by and decided to buy it.”

Lin Zhe Xia accepted the plush toy and said, “Thank you, Uncle Wei. I really like it. Though it’s a bit embarrassing to always have you bring gifts.”

Wei Ping: “No need to feel embarrassed. How was staying at home these days? Were you able to eat well?”

Lin Zhe Xia: “I ate out with Chi Yao. Everything was fine.”

After exchanging pleasantries, Lin Zhe Xia took her gift and returned to her room.

She placed the plush toy on the edge of her desk, where there was a shelf filled with various small trinkets—most of them gifts from Wei Ping.

After putting it down, she stared at the toy for a while.

When she lay back in bed, she realized her drowsiness had vanished.

Because her experience in the Rift earlier had been so enjoyable, she rolled over and couldn’t resist logging back into the game, eager to try again.

Having won streaks all day, she had developed a false sense of confidence, thinking she could take on five enemies alone like Chi Yao.

As soon as she logged in, she scanned her friend list but didn’t see the user “Period.”

Lin Zhe Xia scrolled through the list again.

This time, she found the familiar cat icon, but the username displayed next to it was no longer “Period.” Instead, it read:

Little Pig Drowning.

Lin Zhe Xia glanced at her own nickname, “Plop,” and muttered, “….”

She switched out of the game interface and opened the chat with Chi Yao.

Her fingers tapped furiously on the screen, sending a message:

-You, are, the, pig!

________________________________________

Author’s Note:

Little Chi, some sneaky male tactics.