After leaving the Gold and Jewellery Centre, Su Ying didn’t continue her shopping spree but chose to return to the hotel.
Carrying goods worth over a hundred thousand yuan, she felt rather conspicuous—even though she was in the provincial capital, a massive metropolis; even though the area was very safe; and even though the number of wealthy people here far exceeded her imagination, as did the extent of their wealth.
She even looked around nervously whilst waiting for her taxi, fearing she might be followed by strangers.
It wasn’t until she returned to the hotel, closed the door and engaged the security chain, that she finally breathed a sigh of relief.
Su Ying hadn’t had time to look at her spoils; she sat down in a chair, feeling rather tired.
Simply going out to browse a second-hand luxury boutique and a gold jewellery shop seemed to have drained her of all her energy.
Su Ying sighed. There was nothing for it; that was just how low-energy people were.
She sat in the chair, her mind blank for a while, before taking the bracelets out of the jewellery box and slipping all three onto her wrist.
Su Ying held out her hand, admiring the gold bracelets on her wrist. Her fingers would curl into a delicate ‘orchid’ pose one moment, then turn and twist the bracelets the next. The three bracelets stacked together, jingling with a ‘tinkling’ sound as she moved her wrist.
This was the first time in her life that Su Ying had bought precious metal bracelets; until now, she hadn’t even owned a single silver one.
‘How lovely,’ she sighed once more, gazing at the gold bracelets on her wrist.
In truth, Su Ying harboured a certain fixation on gold bracelets, even though many of her peers considered gold to be utterly tacky.
Su Ying’s family circumstances in Chun City were not particularly affluent, but neither were they dire; at the very least, they were not destitute, nor did she have to drop out of school early to work and support the household.
Yet, despite this, Su Ying had never received—nor could she ever expect to receive—any gold jewellery from her parents. After starting work, she scrimped and saved to pay off her student loans, making such a purchase completely out of the question. Once, whilst chatting with Luo Xin, she had casually remarked that when she had money, she’d buy herself a gold bracelet—nothing too heavy, perhaps a hollow one weighing around 10 grams would be just fine. A married female colleague who happened to be passing by laughed at her: “Oh dear, what girl buys herself a gold bracelet? Once you’re married, you’ll have everything you need.”
She rolled her eyes inwardly at the time. If even her own parents wouldn’t give her such a thing, surely a stranger with no blood ties wouldn’t give it to her simply because she was getting married—there must be more to it than that.
How lovely—she’d got her own gold bracelet without having to get married.
Having had her fill of browsing, Su Ying reluctantly put the two bracelets away, keeping only the one with the Tang-style vine pattern on her wrist.
Su Ying hadn’t logged into the game for nearly two days, and her fingers were itching to play. She took her laptop out of her suitcase, connected to the hotel’s Wi-Fi, and logged into the game.
Once logged in, she looked at her character and felt increasingly dissatisfied.
This account had been Su Ying’s main character since she first got hooked on the game in her first year of university, yet after six years, she was still stingy and refused to spend money on in-game outfits. Her character wore either outfits gifted by the game developers or those obtained for free through in-game events.
Of course, players like Su Ying—who play games without spending a penny, solely to earn a bit of extra cash—are also known as ‘labourers’. This refers to people who sell their labour in-game to earn in-game currency, which they then sell to other players in exchange for cash.
Su Ying didn’t really mind this label, after all, it was the truth.
So many people have fallen for Sword and Blade; some because the gameplay is fun, some for the social aspect, and some because they like the visuals. Su Ying, however, plays it purely because she can make money from it.
Having played for so many years, it’s true that she earns money from the game, but it’s also true that she has grown fond of it.
After all, Su Ying was a girl; it was impossible for her not to be tempted by all the beautiful outfits in Sword and Blade. It was just that she was so short of cash that she could barely look after herself in real life, let alone in the game.
But now things were different.
She had money.
Su Ying looked at the scruffy female character before her, a stark contrast to the smartly dressed female passer-by standing beside her.
Almost without hesitation, she opened the in-game trading platform, ready to buy a character she fancied.
Su Ying had only been browsing the characters on the trading platform for a moment before her eyes began to glaze over; there were simply far too many. Different classes, different genders and body types, and so many outfits and pieces of equipment… …
It was all a bit overwhelming.
Su Ying didn’t really care much about gear; her senior brother would sort her out whenever he had time. She didn’t want to change her class or body type either, so that left just the appearance.
Once she’d narrowed it down like that, her thoughts cleared up considerably.
Su Ying searched for those ‘Seaside Villa’ outfits she’d once longed for but could never afford, and those sky-high-priced outfits that were officially discontinued and could only be traded between players…
Eventually, she found an account that perfectly met her requirements, but it was priced at 50,000 RMB.
Su Ying didn’t know much about account valuations, but she was aware that in Sword and Blade, whilst this price didn’t quite qualify as a premium account, it was certainly a ‘mid-tier’ one—enough to put her on the fringes of the wealthy elite.
Su Ying felt a surge of excitement; her hand gripping the mouse trembled slightly, tightening and relaxing in turn.
Should she buy it? It’s far too expensive—50,000 RMB for a single account.
Not buy it? If she were to collect all those discontinued outfits for her own account now, the cost would only be even higher.
Even if she were to buy every single outfit the developers released from now on—whatever caught her eye—she would still find herself longing for those discontinued outfits from the past.
Buy it!
Su Ying made up her mind. After all, she could certainly afford it. Besides, even if she did end up regretting it later, she could always sell it on.
Accounts in Sword and Blade generally hold their value well. Unless she’d bought one at a particularly poor price, she could usually play it for a year or two; even if she was unlucky and had to sell it at 20% off the original price, she’d still manage to offload it, and with a bit of luck, she might even get more than she’d paid.
Su Ying clicked ‘Buy’. All she had to do was scan the QR code and enter her password; the whole process took less than a minute.
Su Ying felt a momentary sense of disorientation. She seemed to have spent a bit too much today: nearly 30,000 on the handbag, 110,000 on gold, 50,000 on the account, and on top of that, the iPhone she’d bought last night. She’d spent nearly 200,000 in less than 24 hours—wasn’t that a bit extravagant?
But when she logged back into the game and saw her newly purchased account on the login screen, she felt it was all worth it.
Whatever the case, she’d enjoy the moment first!
After all, she’d won a whopping 5.04 million; even after spending 200,000, she still had 4.84 million left!
Su Ying didn’t like the character’s original nickname, so she spent more money on a name-change card and renamed the character to [Su Yingying].
Su Ying took a screenshot of her character ID and sent it to her senior brother on WeChat and to her family and friends group on [platform name]: “Another member has joined the Su family~”
The message sank without a trace in the QQ group; no one replied to her, and the group members carried on with their previous conversation as if they’d never seen it.
Su Ying felt a momentary pang of disappointment, but thankfully her senior brother replied almost instantly:
[Senior Brother: Is it a new account? Send me the login details, and I’ll sort you out some gear.]
Su Ying’s brief disappointment vanished instantly. She typed rapidly: “No need, Senior Brother. I bought this account; the original owner left some gear behind.”
[Senior Brother: Oh ho, you’ve struck it rich, haven’t you?]
Su Ying chuckled to herself. Just as she was about to reply to Su Jiayu, she noticed several messages tagging her pop up in the friends group.
Su Ying hurriedly opened the group chat:
【Wan Yi Miao: @Su Yingying, is this ‘Su Yingying’ account yours? Attached is a screenshot of Su Yingying.jpg】
【Wan Yi Miao: @Su Yingying, you’ve got some serious clout! That outfit was from last year’s gacha, wasn’t it? I remember it cost three thousand to complete the set! And that red hair—it’s going for over 10,000 on the black market now, isn’t it? That ribbon’s 600 as well.】
【10,000 Woof: Goodness, that ribbon’s that expensive now? I thought it was only 100 when it first came out?】
【It’s Mengmeng: What’s this? We’ve actually got a rich lady in our group? Rich lady, rich lady, send us a red envelope! @Su Yingying. 】
【Little Goose: @Su Yingying, rich lady! Red packet!】
【Sweetheart: @Su Yingying, rich lady! Red packet!】
【Scammed 50k in an Online Romance: @Su Yingying, rich lady! Red packet!】
Seeing the words ‘rich lady red packet’ practically flooding the screen, Su Ying felt her heart beating so fast it seemed almost abnormal.
She had never been the focus of so much attention at once, even in a small family and friends group with only a few dozen members.
Su Ying instinctively swallowed, trying to ease her nerves, only to find that the hand holding the mouse was trembling slightly beyond her control.
Su Ying wanted to reply, but didn’t know what to say; her mind was in a jumble. In the end, she clumsily sent a lucky draw red packet totalling 200 yuan.
Almost the moment the red packet was sent, a string of messages reading “xxx has claimed your red packet” flashed across the screen.
Out of the 20 red packets, she hadn’t managed to snag a single one.
There were quite a few others who hadn’t managed to grab any either; the family and friends group contained 59 people, including her, and the majority hadn’t succeeded.
More and more people began tagging her, shouting “Rich lady! Red packets!” and “Thanks, rich lady!”, filling the entire chat window with messages.
Su Ying stared blankly, a complex mix of emotions welling up inside her.
This family and friends group had been set up by one of Su Jiayu’s relatives. The original intention was to make it easier for family and friends to organise groups for dungeon runs and mining. As Su Jiayu’s junior, Su Ying had naturally been added to the group, but she held little influence and her skills were average; she was essentially just tagging along with Su Jiayu’s group.
She wasn’t particularly close with most of the group members. Sometimes, when the chat was buzzing with lively conversation, she would tentatively chip in with a word or two. If no one responded, she’d feel a bit down for a while; but if she did get a reply, she’d be delighted and type out a long string of replies.
More often than not, however, just like when she’d just sent that screenshot of her ID, no one took any notice.
This was the first time so many people—almost half the group—had shouted her nickname, calling her ‘Rich Lady’.
Su Ying got carried away and sent four more ‘lucky draw’ red packets totalling 200 yuan.
Just as she was getting more and more carried away, a WeChat call from Su Jiayu interrupted her.
“What are you doing?” Su Jiayu’s tone wasn’t exactly friendly, which took Su Ying a moment to process. Her senior rarely spoke to her like that; even when she’d caused the whole team to be wiped out, he’d always comforted her with patience.
“I’m sending red packets in the group chat…”
Only then did Su Ying realise her mistake. She’d been so preoccupied with sending red packets in the group chat that she’d completely forgotten to send one to her senior brother, who’d always looked out for her. It was only natural that he’d be angry.
She hurriedly said, “I was planning to send you one privately later.”
However, this remark was met with a barrage of scolding from Su Jiayue: “ “You mentioned earlier that you’d come into some windfall, didn’t you? I reckon it’s from property demolition. How much do they pay for demolition in Chuncheng these days? It’s not even certain if it’s a million. Your family’s share would be thirty thousand at most. That account you bought must have cost several thousand, right? Fine, enjoy it while it lasts; if you get fed up, you can always sell it and not lose out. Why are you sending red packets to those people in the group? Are you even on speaking terms with them? Do they even take you seriously? Do you really think money grows on trees? The economy’s in a bad way and you’re out of work—you really ought to be saving a bit…”
This barrage of scolding left Su Ying frozen in her tracks, and her heart sank instantly.