HGG - 50

“Achoo.”

Today, just as Chi Zhao was about to speak during a presentation of new proposals in the planning department meeting, an employee suddenly sneezed from the audience.

When Chi Zhao glanced over, the person quickly pulled out a tissue and raised their hand apologetically: “Sorry, I’ve been feeling a bit under the weather lately.”

For some reason, after one person sneezed, others around them began sniffling and coughing as well.

Chi Zhao frowned, his mood worsening as he tilted his head back. He turned to Song Yi, who was typing on her laptop behind him, and said: “Turn up the temperature.”

Song Yi immediately understood. She stood up, took the remote control, and adjusted the air conditioning.

Chongming Games had started using air conditioning early due to the heat.

When they returned to the office, Chi Zhao was in a foul mood.

“Why are people catching colds now that the weather has warmed up?” Chi Zhao sat on the sofa, staring into space. Then, turning around, he said, “Cigarette.”

He didn’t usually rely much on cigarettes.

Song Yi knew that Chi Zhao was worried about work.

Though he often seemed more childlike than anyone else, this didn’t conflict with his identity as a workaholic.

She didn’t try to dissuade him. A secretary could care for her boss, but ultimately, a secretary was still just a secretary. Song Yi took out a pack of cigarettes, pulled one out, and handed it to him. Chi Zhao accepted it, and as he placed it between his lips, Song Yi lit the lighter and brought it closer.

In the dim yet shimmering light of the flame, Song Yi couldn’t help but gaze at his young yet serious face.

Milky white smoke drifted through the air. Chi Zhao held the cigarette loosely for a moment before suddenly looking up at Song Yi with a smile—one that felt like a burning cigarette tip pressed against someone’s heart.

Chi Zhao said: “There’s something I want to give you.”

Song Yi lowered her head and looked at him. She had infinite patience when it came to Chi Zhao: “What is it?”

Then Chi Zhao pointed to a box placed further away. Song Yi already knew what it was—the dress she had tried on in the boutique—but she still feigned surprise: “I love it. Thank you.”

However, Chi Zhao immediately began questioning her.

“How did you end up shopping with my mother?” His smile was identical to the one before, but in Song Yi’s eyes, it now carried an intimidating undertone.

What to do?

Surely, she couldn’t tell him, Your mom offered me five million yuan to date you?

After struggling internally for a long time, Song Yi omitted the part about the five million and vaguely summarized the events.

In short, she had been invited by Gao Jie to visit Chi Zhao’s home, where An Siyue requested that she attend the birthday party of Old Man Dan Ji. That’s why they went shopping together.

Unexpectedly, Chi Zhao reacted very calmly.

However, after a few seconds, he said: “By the way, I won’t be attending Birdman’s grandfather’s birthday party…”

“Alright.” At first, Song Yi treated it as a work-related matter and pulled out her schedule to take notes. But after tapping the screen a few times, she suddenly raised her head and blurted out an unintentionally impolite syllable: “Ah?”

No wonder.

Suddenly, certain oddities from before became clear.

Why hadn’t she heard of this event when An Siyue mentioned it? After all, she should have known Chi Zhao’s schedule for the next three months down to the minute.

Because he had no intention of going.

It wasn’t even on the schedule.

It was hard to describe how Song Yi felt. She knew Chi Zhao had no obligation to attend occasions he didn’t want to, and indeed, he didn’t dwell on it either. He immediately changed the subject: “In a couple of days, Xiao Zhan invited us to dinner at his place. He said he wants to entertain some friends.”

Song Yi was still dazed, nodding absentmindedly. All sounds seemed muted outside her body. It took her a while to recover before she got up to resume her work.

Her task, though, was to level up the account “Ice Butterfly Dream” that Chi Zhao used in ACDF .

Song Yi had a natural talent for gaming.

When Luo Jiaming was younger, he often skipped school to go to arcades. Luo’s mother was busy running a stall and couldn’t stop him, so she asked Song Yi for help.

At the time, kids were obsessed with arcade games, especially the Street Fighter series, which was the most popular.

Luo Jiaming’s extraordinary hand speed had already emerged in childhood. When Song Yi arrived at the arcade, he was mercilessly defeating a high schooler across from him.

A circle of chattering classmates surrounded him, and even some adults in the arcade were drawn to watch the intense battle.

After a streak of victories, Luo Jiaming stretched his wrists. Everyone around marveled—this was the protagonist of a comic book.

But then, a shadow fell over him from behind.

Song Yi’s expression was bland, her voice devoid of emotional inflection: “Your mother wants you to come home for dinner.”

How could a strong fighter be easily shaken? Besides, his classmates were watching. Luo Jiaming frowned defiantly: “My winning streak is about to break a record. I’m not going back.”

With that, he turned back to the game machine, ignoring Song Yi completely.

Song Yi looked at the rebellious little boy next door. Others whispered and gathered around again. She considered leaving, but then she remembered the silver ear soup Luo’s mother had cooked for her.

Changing direction, Song Yi walked over to the opposing game machine and fixed a chilling gaze on the high schooler who had lost everything.

She didn’t say anything, but he still received the message and eventually grumbled as he stepped aside.

As Song Yi sat down, the onlookers began to jeer. Coins had already been inserted, and Luo Jiaming looked up suspiciously.

Some people murmured: “Is this girl insane?”

“My sister came to play once. She just mashed buttons randomly and didn’t know anything.”

“She’s here to help Luo Jiaming break his winning streak.”

Someone else asked: “Which character will she pick? Chun-Li, Sakura, or Rose?”

—Chun-Li, Sakura, and Rose were iconic female characters in the Street Fighter series.

However, Song Yi chose Rufus without hesitation.

Rufus, the obese male fighter known as the “Giant Dancing Madman” of the Street Fighter series.

Looking at Song Yi—pretty, tall, slim, and quiet—and then at the burly, golden-braided, mustachioed fighter she had chosen, a jarring sense of incongruity began to sprout.

The game began.

And soon, this incongruity spread rapidly, engulfing everyone around.

“Formidable.”

That was the only word all spectators could think of.

It wasn’t just Rufus, the close-combat expert, but also Song Yi—the frail, pale girl operating him with such skill.

Song Yi was incredibly good—extremely good, perhaps too good.

At first, Luo Jiaming had the upper hand, but he was quickly overwhelmed by Rufus, who left no openings.

Watching himself get mercilessly crushed by that fat guy in the game, with no way to fight back, Luo Jiaming’s mental state collapsed.

After being KO’d repeatedly, Luo Jiaming rose in disbelief and quickly walked over to Song Yi.

To be honest, at that moment, the impulse to resort to violence invaded his mind. But when he saw Song Yi’s calm expression, he calmed down.

“Can we go home and eat now?” Song Yi stood up unperturbed. “The winning streak is gone.”

Before entering middle school, there was a period when Song Yi frequently visited arcades.

At that time, Song’s father cared about her studies and forbade her from drawing, but always ensured she had enough pocket money to keep up with her peers.

Draft notebooks filled with sketches were torn up by her father repeatedly, and over time, Song Yi learned to endure.

But interest is like a flood—it needs an outlet.

Her stress poured out through arcade games.

Of course, she went secretly. The hidden joy, combined with her obsession with victory and her determination to improve, quickly immersed her in the experience.

Looking back now, how luxurious it was to worry about her parents finding her at the arcade. Because soon, the situation reversed, and she ended up searching for her parents at mahjong tables.

After parting ways on the Ferris wheel, Luo Jiaming sent countless apology messages to Song Yi.

Song Yi wanted to ignore them, but thinking about having to see Luo’s mother in the future, she finally replied with a peripheral emoji from ACDF —Kukuchi the Totoro girl’s smile.

Recalling this, Song Yi continued helping Ice Butterfly Dream kill monsters in the wild, occasionally opening the quest interface to check her experience points.

Just then, a user named “tennis” sent a friend request to Ice Butterfly Dream.

Speak of the devil.

How did Luo Jiaming find out about this account?

Song Yi froze, then turned to Chi Zhao, who was engrossed in building a new LEGO set: “Boss, do you want to accept the friend request from that ‘tennis’ in ACDF ?”

“He sent a request?” Chi Zhao stood up and walked over leisurely.

At the moment, Song Yi was using Chi Zhao’s computer but hadn’t taken his seat. After all, the office chair wobbled so much that only Chi Zhao could tolerate it.

She had pulled up a backless chair instead.

Chi Zhao approached her from behind, his gaze scanning the screen intently. Seeing his serious expression, Song Yi thought he was being cautious about accepting friend requests. To her surprise, he suddenly remarked: “Was this always the color of our system text?”

Before Song Yi could respond, Chi Zhao suddenly leaned forward, his arms encircling her shoulders as he naturally reached for the keyboard and mouse.

Trapped within his embrace, Song Yi tensed up, unable to move.

Chi Zhao didn’t notice, completely absorbed in exporting other interfaces to inspect. He then used keyboard shortcuts to open a dialogue box and typed out some optimization suggestions before sending them.

Her heart clenched tightly.

Song Yi brought her arms closer, leaning forward slightly to avoid touching Chi Zhao.

However, as she quietly made these subtle movements, a teasing laugh suddenly came from behind.

Song Yi tilted her head slightly. Chi Zhao’s eyes remained fixed on the screen, but the corners of his mouth unexpectedly curled into a smile. His profile, close now, reminded her of diamonds carefully protected in glass display cases.

Without understanding why, Song Yi felt dizzy.

The next second, Chi Zhao suddenly said: “The scent of your shampoo reminds me of the air freshener they spray in Disneyland’s 4D theaters.”

He then stepped back. Song Yi resumed working. As Chi Zhao turned around, she quickly grabbed a strand of her hair, trying to identify any lingering scent—but found nothing.

Back amidst the LEGO bricks, Chi Zhao suddenly remembered. The friend request from “tennis” seemed to have slipped his mind.