Ji Wangcheng stopped in front of Luo Song.
“Ji Wangcheng.” He introduced himself, then explained his purpose in coming. “I’m here to pick him up.”
With that, he bent down and draped Li Xingchuan’s arm over his own shoulder, then awkwardly helped him to his feet. His movements were rather unpracticed, and Luo Song watched the process with his heart in his throat, eventually reaching out to help lift Li Xingchuan’s other side.
Li Xingchuan’s consciousness finally began to return.
He struggled to lift his eyelids, and the side profile of the young man in front of him suddenly filled his field of vision, growing larger and larger until it was almost impossible to ignore.
A tall, prominent nose bridge. Immaculate, cool-white skin without a single blemish.
At that instant, a perfectly natural question surfaced in Li Xingchuan’s muddled mind.
Who the hell is this guy?
He had nearly been tempted to slap the other person across the face. Fortunately, his thoughts moved faster than his hands, and he managed to recognize the person holding him up before committing a terrible mistake.
—It was Ji Wangcheng.
They hadn’t seen each other for a year, and Ji Wangcheng had changed again.
When two people didn’t meet frequently, every change in appearance became especially noticeable. Even though Li Xingchuan had already seen him once that afternoon, he still hadn’t entirely adjusted to this new version of his childhood friend.
Li Xingchuan struggled a few times before finally managing to steady himself. The information he hadn’t yet had the chance to process gradually began to fall into place.
It was a little past ten at night. The small graduation gathering was over.
He had gotten drunk, fallen asleep, and now Ji Wangcheng had come to pick him up.
Wait. Ji Wangcheng had actually come?
Li Xingchuan stared at a random point in the air, his gaze exceptionally vacant.
Ji Wangcheng watched him intently, then tentatively called out, “Shanshan?”
Li Xingchuan instantly sobered up out of sheer embarrassment. The haze clouding his mind cleared in an instant.
“…Don’t call me by my childhood nickname when we’re outside.”
Ji Wangcheng: “Oh.”
Luo Song hadn’t heard their exchange clearly. Thinking he’d missed some important piece of information, he looked from one to the other in confusion. “What? What’s going on?”
Li Xingchuan replied vaguely, “It’s nothing.” He finally noticed the rain falling outside the window and asked, “How are you getting home later?”
Luo Song answered naturally, “I’ll just take a taxi.”
As soon as he finished speaking, a classmate nearby complained, “It’s already been more than ten minutes. Why am I still number thirty-something in the queue? I can’t take this anymore.”
Unfortunately, the college entrance examination had only just ended, and tonight happened to be peak season for high school graduation gatherings. The commercial district in this area was called Qinghui Plaza, and it was a particularly popular hangout spot among young people.
Once the rain started falling that evening, getting a ride became especially difficult.
Li Xingchuan glanced out the window at the silver Maybach parked nearby with its hazard lights flashing. Under the circumstances, the most obvious solution was right in front of him.
He knew that if he suggested giving Luo Song a ride as well, Ji Wangcheng certainly wouldn’t refuse. But Ji Wangcheng had already gone out of his way to come and pick him up. Asking him to give his friend a ride, too, would be pushing his luck a little too far.
As for the possibility of Ji Wangcheng volunteering to help on his own initiative…
That was practically zero.
To put it more kindly, this guy could be described as aloof and cold. In reality, though, he simply lacked the basic instinct for navigating social relationships.
That trait could be a serious disadvantage for someone from an ordinary family. But the Ji family had more than enough pink banknotes to make even ghosts turn millstones for them. When someone with poor social skills lacked financial resources, people called them antisocial. When someone with equally poor social skills had money to spare, they were praised as an untouchable flower growing high on a mountain peak.
Ji Wangcheng was precisely that kind of high-and-mighty flower.
Li Xingchuan raised his eyebrows ever so slightly at him, then glanced at Luo Song, trying to convey a subtle hint through his eyes.
Ji Wangcheng remained expressionless, even displaying just the right amount of confusion.
Li Xingchuan: “…”
He wasn’t surprised in the slightest.
Fortunately, Luo Song was shameless enough not to care about such things. Hearing the complaints of the classmates nearby, he checked the queue positions on two ride-hailing apps and decisively turned to his buddy’s childhood friend to ask for a favor. “Bro, could you give me a lift, too? My place is only two kilometers from here, right next to the Third Primary School.”
Ji Wangcheng’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. He simply turned his head and looked at Li Xingchuan.
It was almost as though the car parked outside didn’t belong to his family at all and he had no authority to make the decision.
He actually seemed to be asking for Li Xingchuan’s opinion.
Li Xingchuan: “…Would it be convenient for you? If it is, could you drop him off, too? It’s pretty late already.”
Inside the rear seat of the Maybach, Luo Song looked like Grandpa Luo entering the Grand View Garden for the first time, utterly dazzled by everything around him.
For a chatterbox like him, the truly astonishing things were precisely the ones that left him at a loss for words. After a long while, he finally managed to mutter an awestruck comment. “So this is what the legendary 4D Burmester sound system feels like… Surround sound… It’s so good…”
Li Xingchuan immediately mocked him. “Just install a few more speakers inside the car, then stick another one on top of your head. That’ll make it 5D, and it’ll be even better.”
Luo Song shot him a look of disdain. “What do you know? How can those things possibly be the same?”
Li Xingchuan retorted, “Why wouldn’t they be?”
Outside the windows, rain pattered steadily against the glass. Once the soundproof windows shut out most of the noise, all that remained was a faint, almost imperceptible white noise, providing a gentle backdrop to the soft, elegant classical music playing inside the car.
Ji Wangcheng listened as the two of them dug up old grievances and bickered back and forth. Every now and then, he would find an opening to interject a brief question or comment. From the way he behaved, he seemed to have developed a certain interest in Li Xingchuan’s high school life.
“Did Shanshan ever get into fights with people in high school?” he asked.
His voice naturally carried a restrained quality. Although he had clearly taken the initiative to ask a question, his tone somehow conveyed a sense of detached indifference, as though he were merely making a polite remark to keep the conversation going.
Luo Song looked surprised. “So your childhood nickname really is Shanshan?”
Li Xingchuan: “…”
Somebody save me.
Luo Song was a chubby guy who was practically incapable of staying quiet. The moment someone showed even the slightest interest in listening to him, his desire to talk would become so overwhelming that he could probably dry the raindrops on the windows just by talking long enough. Once his lips started moving, he would spill everything he could think of, whether it should be said or not. Without the slightest hesitation, he sold his buddy out.
“Right after the semester started, there was a girl in our class who liked him. She wrote him a letter asking to confess her feelings, but he couldn’t figure out what she meant. He thought she was challenging him to a fight! If I hadn’t reminded him, he would’ve almost gone over there carrying a baseball bat…”
“Then, sometime during the first year of high school, Brother Chuan’s phone broke. During that period, the only way he could kill time during class was the rather old-fashioned method of using his exercise book. He diligently recorded the frequency of our homeroom teacher’s classroom inspections for an entire week, then compiled all the information into a statistical chart. I have to admit, the pattern was actually pretty regular…”
Luo Song continued recounting one embarrassing story after another. Then, he happened to catch sight of Ji Wangcheng’s calm face in the rearview mirror, and something suddenly occurred to him. “Oh, right! Some bored people once organized a ‘School Hunk Election’ on our school’s online forum. The pretty boy from the class next door took first place. When Brother Chuan saw his photo back then, he said, ‘What’s so special about him? He’s not even as good-looking as my childhood friend.’ So, it turns out that childhood friend he was talking about was…”
Li Xingchuan had originally been drowsy, but Luo Song’s relentless digging up of old stories had managed to wake him right up. He immediately cut him off before he could finish. “Hey, that’s enough. Don’t push it.”
Luo Song shrugged and made a zipping motion across his lips, as though sealing them shut.
Thank goodness. For the next ten minutes, at least, the guy refrained from continuing to ruin Li Xingchuan’s image in front of Ji Wangcheng.
It wasn’t until Luo Song finally got out of the car that Li Xingchuan truly breathed a sigh of relief.
Ji Wangcheng asked, “Which childhood friend was that?”
Li Xingchuan didn’t understand what he meant. “What are you talking about?”
Ji Wangcheng clarified, “The one who was better-looking than the pretty boy.”
Li Xingchuan: “…”
If anyone else had asked him that question, they would probably have been fishing for compliments. Hearing someone praise their own good looks was practically an invitation to indulge in a little humblebragging.
But when Ji Wangcheng asked, he genuinely wanted an answer. It hadn’t even occurred to him to associate the description with himself.
In the rearview mirror, his expression was almost stubbornly serious. There was even a faint trace of displeasure, resembling a house cat suspecting that its owner had gone out and petted a stray cat behind its back.
Sometimes, Li Xingchuan felt as though Ji Wangcheng had never truly grown up. Time had matured the young man’s outward appearance, giving him the body and features of someone who had grown into adulthood, but beneath that exterior lived a soul that struggled to find its place in the human world.
“Who else would I have as a childhood friend?” Li Xingchuan asked, feeling both embarrassed and exasperated. “I haven’t kept in touch with anyone else besides you.”
This time, his answer was clear enough. At long last, Young Master Ji appeared satisfied. He responded with a reserved, indifferent acknowledgment, as though he hadn’t just been asking about something that mattered to him.
Li Xingchuan decided to spend the night at Ji Wangcheng’s house.
He lived with his maternal grandmother, who absolutely despised the smell of cigarettes and alcohol. The old lady also had a nose as sharp as a dog’s. As far as she was concerned, there was no such thing as the legal right of an adult over eighteen to drink alcohol. If Li Xingchuan went home in his current state, he would undoubtedly be subjected to a lengthy lecture.
So, after taking a shower, he called his grandmother to let her know he was safe.
The moment she heard that he was staying at Ji Wangcheng’s house, she felt considerably more reassured. She continued nagging him for a little while, reminding him to study properly alongside Xiao Ji.
Ever since childhood, Ji Wangcheng had been the quintessential child from someone else’s family—the kind of child every parent wished they had.
He was a child who had actually been diagnosed with autism, yet he was exceptionally intelligent.
Parents had never been particularly fond of taking mental illnesses seriously. Depression was dismissed as a condition caused by having too much free time and too comfortable a life, while autism was something they believed children would simply grow out of once they got older. This was especially true in Ji Wangcheng’s case. In the face of his outstanding academic achievements, which brought honor and glory to his entire family, his quiet and reserved personality could easily be presented as an additional virtue, making an already excellent child seem even more impressive.
Li Xingchuan couldn’t help laughing helplessly. “Grandma, I’ve already graduated from high school.”
His grandmother immediately retorted, “And does that mean you don’t have to study in university? Just wait until you fail to get your degree. You’ll be crying then.”
Li Xingchuan replied, “Then I’ll do my best not to cry.”
“Stop talking nonsense. Where is Xiao Ji going to university?”
Li Xingchuan made a soft, thoughtful sound. “Mm… It should be Yuda.”
In the eyes of the older generation in Yucheng, Yuda was even more desirable than Tsinghua or Peking University. It was a good school, it was close to home, and attending a local university also came with a certain sense of pride in one’s hometown.
His grandmother was instantly satisfied. “That’s good. The two of you might even end up being classmates at university.”
After that, his grandmother continued reminding him that, since he was staying at someone else’s house as a guest, he absolutely mustn’t cause any trouble or make a mess for the host.
She repeated the same few warnings over and over until Li Xingchuan felt as though calluses were about to grow inside his ears. He humored her with a series of perfunctory responses while drinking his milk. By the time the phone call finally ended, he had already shuffled into the living room in his slippers.
The living room in Ji Wangcheng’s house was exceptionally spacious, with an area almost comparable to that of an entire old, run-down apartment.
Ji Wangcheng had taken out all his game discs and laid them on the table.
Li Xingchuan put away his phone and immediately dashed over. He picked up the disc lying at the very top of the pile and examined it in surprise. “Isn’t this one not supposed to be released until next week?”
This wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, so he wasn’t particularly surprised anymore. If anything, he felt more delighted than astonished.
“We’re playing this one tonight.” He was so excited that his sleepiness vanished completely.
Ji Wangcheng naturally had no objections. Without saying anything, he busied himself with adjusting the connection between the game console and the large television screen.
Before long, the game’s interface appeared on the screen.
After they selected two-player mode, two little characters wearing capes of different colors appeared. They began running swiftly across a beautiful island, racing through the picturesque scenery.
[Loading… Loading…]
While the game loaded, Li Xingchuan and Ji Wangcheng chatted intermittently, exchanging a few words whenever something came to mind.
“Are you really planning to apply to Yuda?”
“Mm.”
“I’m planning to major in computer science.”
“Me too.”
Li Xingchuan began imagining their future together. “What if we actually end up being classmates? We might even become roommates.”
He thought about it for a moment before admitting honestly, “Ever since you transferred to the capital in third grade, I’ve always thought you wouldn’t come back to Yucheng anymore. I even thought you might go abroad straight after high school.”
Ji Wangcheng replied, “That was their original plan.”
By they, he meant his parents. In Li Xingchuan’s memories, Ji Wangcheng’s parents had always been attentive to him, and their relationship with each other had seemed stable as well.
Yet, for some reason, whenever Ji Wangcheng talked about his parents, his tone was as indifferent as if he were describing a married couple living next door. It was as though those two people merely happened to share a surname with him, happened to provide him with living expenses, and had no other emotional connection with him worth mentioning.
Perhaps even seemingly perfect families had their own unspeakable troubles.
Li Xingchuan asked, “Then why didn’t you go? Don’t you like living abroad?”
Ji Wangcheng seemed to be carefully considering his wording. After a brief pause, he finally arrived at a conclusion. “I don’t need to consider their opinions anymore.”
He said something so rebellious in a tone that was remarkably calm and natural, as though he were discussing something completely ordinary.
Li Xingchuan couldn’t help laughing. “Then why did you have to consider their opinions before?”
Ji Wangcheng answered with the same matter-of-fact attitude. “Because before, they could…”
He paused, swallowing the word kill before it could leave his mouth. After half a second of careful thought, he decided to replace it with a more colloquial expression that would sound more natural and logically appropriate.
“Before, they could beat me to death.”
Li Xingchuan was an enthusiastic audience. He immediately applauded him. “Looks like you’re finally brave enough to fight back now. That’s impressive!”
The game finished loading, and an exquisitely rendered opening cinematic played for a full thirty seconds, clearly establishing the background of the story and successfully stirring up the player’s curiosity.
During the months he had spent preparing for the college entrance examination, Li Xingchuan had practically lived in isolation from the outside world. He had only heard a little about this game, though the rumors suggested that the developers had put an extraordinary amount of care into its production and that it had a good chance of competing for the Game of the Year award at The Game Awards, or TGA.
Now that he was seeing it for himself, it seemed the rumors hadn’t been exaggerated.
At the beginning of the game, each character could choose three different talents, which were essentially superpowers. The talent list contained all sorts of strange and wonderful abilities. Some were genuinely useful, while others were downright ridiculous, leaving players plenty of room to experiment and discover their own preferred combinations.
Thinking about what had happened that evening, Li Xingchuan suddenly found the whole thing amusing. He began animatedly sharing the story, gesturing as he spoke. “I have this classmate who claims he’s awakened a superpower that lets him win every single game of rock-paper-scissors. He even acts as though it’s completely real, and everyone else is happy enough to play along with him…”
The mockery in his words was unmistakable.
The two players’ cursors were different colors. On the talent selection screen, the pale green cursor belonging to Ji Wangcheng’s character was still hovering over the option marked [Selecting]. Suddenly, it stopped moving altogether.
That left only the other cursor, a soft golden color, darting wildly around the screen, just as carefree and cheerful as its owner’s mood.
“…You don’t believe that superpowers exist, do you?” Ji Wangcheng asked.
Li Xingchuan answered without the slightest hesitation. “Of course I don’t. In this day and age, anyone who still believes in feudal superstition either has something wrong with their head or is trying to scam people out of their money.”
Ji Wangcheng fell silent.
Li Xingchuan continued, “I hate people who put on airs the most. If I met someone pretending to have superpowers, I’d punch every last one of them.”
Ji Wangcheng: “.”
After a long silence, Ji Wangcheng shifted his gaze back to the screen. He moved his fingers slightly and, without uttering another word, selected his third talent.
Author’s Note:
Shanshan: I’ll throw punches at every single supernatural being out there!
Xiao Ji: .
Xiao Ji: I’m so frail and helpless. JPG. (He’s pretending.)