That evening, Yang Yi watched TV dramas on his laptop.
The machine was so ancient that, aside from streaming videos or chatting on QQ, it couldn't handle much else.
That night, he had a strange dream. He saw himself from a third-person perspective standing in the hallway, watching his own naked body walk into Wei Qing's room...
By the time he woke up, it was nearly noon. There was an unread text on his phone.
"My little treasure, come back with Xiao Hua to see me during National Day." The sender was signed as Xiao Li.
"Xiao Li" was the name Yang Yi's old man always called his mother, and Yang Yi had picked up the habit.
"Mom, let me see how busy work is during National Day. If I come back, I'll tell you in advance." Nanjin was over five hundred miles from his hometown. The worst part was that the high-speed rail hadn't been connected yet. Back when Yang Yi was at the Nanjin Academy of Fine Arts, a trip home required over ten hours on a slow "green-skin" train.
Fortunately, Xiao Hua usually went home too. The two of them could take the highway in his brother-in-law's car and make it in seven or eight hours.
Knock, knock.
Qian Tao shouted from outside the door, "You awake? Want to grab food? The Old Man is coming too."
Yang Yi thought for a moment—he'd likely end up footing the bill again. Sorry, brother, I'm temporarily broke.
"Just woke up. I've got some stuff to do here; you guys go ahead."
"Then don't forget to leave the electricity money on the desk. Fifty per household. We're off, bye!"
He picked up his phone. Still no salary deposit. He glanced at the chat with Quan Quan; it was dead silent. Yang Yi was passive by nature—if she didn't reply, he'd just let it be.
Things were quiet on Xiao Lin's end, too. Since Yang Yi had walked away with over two thousand yuan the day before yesterday, there hadn't been a single text. It was the weekend, after all; normally, Xiao Lin would have asked if he wanted to play.
The game probably hadn't come together. Since he had nothing else to do today, he wouldn't go looking for a game; he'd wait until next week.
"Was that package yesterday a pair of shoes?" Yang Yi still had someone to talk to.
"Yeah, high heels. I mostly just buy shoes," Wei Qing replied a moment later.
Sure enough, girls loved to shop. The shoe rack in the hallway near Wei Qing's door was already bursting at the seams.
"Want to grab lunch together?" Wei Qing didn't cook every single meal at home. Yang Yi thought they could go downstairs for a bite and have a chat.
"Why didn't you go with them just now?"
That was the downside of shared rentals—the slightest sound in the hallway could be heard by everyone in the house.
"I don't like eating with those two. They're both stingy. I wanted to eat with you today."
"I'll pass today. Another time! It'll be my treat next time, thanks for helping me with the package."
"Alright then, let's find time next week."
"Sounds good."
Putting down his phone, Yang Yi felt his mood brighten. The way young girls chatted was completely different from people like Zhen Zhen. That crowd was used to shouting; their deafening voices were often hard to take.
This was why Yang Yi avoided bars and KTVs unless absolutely necessary. Too many people, too much noise—it was uncomfortable.
But there was one place Yang Yi could tolerate—a place that was both cheap and entertaining.
The Net Bar.
It was a place Yang Yi had frequented since high school. Back then, they were called "computer rooms." He'd ask his parents for five yuan to go bathe at the public bathhouse, spend three yuan on a ticket for the computers, and save the two-yuan scrubbing fee for an hour of gaming before heading home.
He'd started playing single-player and online games back then; in college, his game of choice was DOTA.
Since his laptop could no longer run DOTA, he'd go to a net bar for a few rounds whenever he had time. However, if he added it all up, his internet fees probably could have bought him a new computer by now.
Yang Yi loved playing Mages, or sometimes the Dwarven Sniper. He wouldn't touch Warriors. His reasoning:
"A bunch of meat-shield brutes who only know how to charge forward."
Inside the net bar, Yang Yi was looking for a "golden spot" against a wall where it would be quiet.
His eyes landed on a young man with a neatly parted hairstyle—dark, shiny hair. He had the features of a Southerner, with delicate, fair skin.
It felt as though some force was drawing Yang Yi toward the man. As he got closer, he realized their "auras" truly resonated.
The man was playing DOTA, using the hero Riki (the Stealth Assassin). Both his hands were clicking incessantly on the keyboard and mouse. The cigarette dangling from his lip was nearly extinguished, but he kept his neck craned high, terrified that the ash might fall on his clothes.
"A sneaky set of skills—what's so cool about that?" Yang Yi mocked silently.
Yang Yi powered up the machine at the adjacent seat and logged in.
There was an unopened pack of cigarettes on the desk. Yang Yi picked it up and asked the man, "Yours?"
The man shook his head.
Yang Yi got up and took the cigarettes to the front desk. "Hey, I found a pack of smokes at machine number 20."
He returned to his seat, loaded the game, and picked the Dwarven Sniper.
Just as he was getting into the rhythm of last-hitting creeps, the man nudged him with his elbow and pointed toward the front desk.
There, the net bar attendant was already unwrapping the pack Yang Yi had just turned in.
It seemed he had no intention of looking for the owner.
"Hmph." The man glanced at the front desk with a look of disdain, then peeked at Yang Yi's screen.
"Sniper? That's a bit shady, brother."
Yang Yi smiled, not knowing how to respond. The man was playing an Assassin—if we were talking about being "shady," the Assassin definitely won.
The man offered Yang Yi a cigarette. "Want one? These have a kick."
The cigarette in front of him had a white filter and body, similar to the "Seven Stars" Yang Yi usually smoked, but the pack didn't look domestic.
While Yang Yi hesitated, the man's fingers suddenly squeezed the filter, producing a crisp pop.
Yang Yi had never smoked such high-end stuff. He took the cigarette, lit it, and took a deep drag. Instantly, a wave of cool, refreshing air rushed to his head.
"Good smoke," Yang Yi praised.
"I'll wait for your next round so we can play together." The man kicked off his flip-flops, tucked his feet onto the chair, leaned back, and started playing with his phone.
The two of them played as a duo and won several games. Yang Yi spent the entire afternoon typing to communicate with teammates; if he encountered someone intentionally feeding, he'd even offer a few words of condemnation. The man, however, never communicated with the team. Once he dumped his skills and died, he just went back to his phone.
It seemed that when it came to a sense of justice, Yang Yi was the more earnest one.
As the final game ended, the man gave Yang Yi his phone number so they could play again sometime.
Yang Yi asked for a name so he could save the contact. "How should I list you?"
"Just put 'Dota'," the man said with a mischievous grin.
"I'll just call you Assassin then." Yang Yi figured the guy didn't want to leave his real name, so he'd just use his favorite hero as a label.
"Whatever works. I'm out."