No. 79 If Happiness Cannot Be Found
As expected, we crushed the competition.
But for boys, unless a girlfriend was at stake, winning or losing a game wasn’t a big deal. The guys from Class 1 were good sports, and after the match, we played a few other games together. The atmosphere was surprisingly friendly.
“Sorry about earlier,” the chubby boy who had doubted my skills apologized as we prepared to leave.
I smiled. “It’s fine. I wasn’t offended.”
“How long have you been playing this game?” he asked.
“Since my second year of middle school,” I replied, after a moment’s thought.
That was when Yi Yao had first visited an internet cafe. Her memories were vivid, the date etched in my mind.
My sister hadn’t been very good at competitive games. That was one of the many differences between us. She had only started playing League of Legends because of Long Fei, but after a few disastrous matches, she had resorted to playing against bots at home.
“Second year? And you reached Challenger in just a year? You’re a natural!”
The chubby boy stared at me, his jaw slack. “As far as I know, you’re the only Challenger player in Upper Capital City.”
“There might be other Challenger players who just don’t advertise it.”
“No, I’m serious. Do you realize what this means?”
He leaned closer, his voice earnest. “You’re only sixteen. There are very few sixteen-year-old Challenger players in the entire country. And you’re a girl. A beautiful girl. I bet you’re the only one. That’s a huge advantage. And you’re famous now. If you start streaming, playing games every day, you could make a fortune within a year or two.”
“Is it really that lucrative?”
“It is. I’m not exaggerating. I know a few streamers who average around 5,000 viewers, and they earn a base salary of 5,000 yuan per month. You could easily attract over 50,000 viewers. Playing games and making money. What’s not to like?”
“Yeah, yeah, I’d definitely watch your stream!”
“That’s a great idea, Yi Yao! You should start streaming!”
“Maybe later,” I said, my cheeks flushing under their enthusiastic gazes. I gestured for Xiaodie to hop onto the back of my bicycle. “We should get going. My dad will be angry if we’re late.”
I was still unsure about his mental state.
My words the previous night had been harsh. What if he had spiraled further into despair? It would complicate things for Xiaodie and me.
“Alright, be careful on your way home! And teach me some tips next time!”
I pedaled away, their farewells echoing behind me.
“So… are you really that good?” Xiaodie asked, her cheek resting against my back, her arms wrapped tightly around my waist.
“That game is so hard. And those shooting games… I can never see anyone, and my aim is terrible.”
“It’s not just talent. Girls aren’t really suited for competitive games,” I said matter-of-factly. “Actually, I feel like my skills have deteriorated.”
“But how…”
“Do you find it difficult to solve elementary school math problems now?”
“No.”
“Exactly. I’m from ten years in the future. By then, this game had been dissected and analyzed. All the strategies, the team compositions, the meta… everything had been figured out. I learned from the best. It’s not like the early days, when everyone was a noob, running around like headless chickens. You’d feel the same way if you played with beginners from a few years ago.”
“Hmm… do you want to start streaming?”
“What do you think?”
“Do it! Why not make some money?”
“Things get complicated when money is involved.”
I hadn’t intentionally climbed to Challenger. After arriving in this world, I had been overwhelmed by stress and anxiety. I maintained my usual carefree facade, but I needed an outlet, a way to release the pressure. Gaming and training became my escape.
A few ranked matches every day, and within three months, I had reached the top.
Playing for fun was different from playing for an audience. Solo queuing allowed for experimentation, for casual banter with teammates. But streaming was a job. I would have to be at my best, catering to the viewers’ expectations, perhaps even engaging in fan service.
Writing was a dream, but writing for an audience came with its own set of constraints. The same applied to drawing. A childhood hobby could transform into a demanding profession, requiring you to meet the client’s demands, even if you disliked the final product.
“It’s not the right time. We still have unfinished business,” I said, my thoughts returning to the investigation.
I needed answers.
Answers that would shape my future.
“I’m home.”
I parked the bicycle, unlocked the door, and stepped inside. The air was surprisingly fresh, devoid of the usual stench of smoke and alcohol. The living room, usually cluttered and messy, was spotless. Even the dusty windowsills had been cleaned.
“You’re back?”
My father emerged from the kitchen, a smile on his face, wearing an apron. “And Xiaodie. You must be hungry. Dinner will be ready soon.”
His transformation was startling. The haggard, drunken man from the previous night had vanished, replaced by a revitalized, almost youthful version of himself. He had even shaved his beard and gotten a haircut.
“Dad, what…” I walked towards the kitchen, noticing the new appliances and the gleaming countertops.
“Yi Yao, I’ve had a change of heart,” he said, his voice cheerful as he stir-fried vegetables. “Life goes on, doesn’t it? Your mother is gone, but I still have you, my wonderful daughter. And Xiaodie, of course.” He chuckled. “If you both get into a good high school, I’ll work my fingers to the bone to support your education.”
“That’s the spirit! That’s the Yi Yao’s dad I know!”
Xiaodie, with impressive reflexes, threw her arms around him. “Uncle, the teacher praised us today. She said we could get into any high school in the country with our grades.”
“That’s wonderful!”
“It’s all thanks to your guidance!”
Something was wrong…
My father wasn’t the type to bounce back so easily. A slight improvement after my harsh words was understandable, but this was too drastic.
“Did Uncle visit us today?” I asked casually, my suspicions growing.
“How did you know?” He looked genuinely surprised. “They say girls are more perceptive. I guess it’s true. Your uncle came over this morning. We talked for hours, and he even stayed for lunch.”
As I suspected.
“Why don’t you two go do your homework? The kitchen is smoky. It’s bad for your skin.”
“Okay, we’ll be in our room.”
Xiaodie, oblivious to my suspicions, dragged me away.
“Ugh, I’m exhausted. We should get a computer at home. This internet cafe smells awful.”
She flopped onto the bed, her skirt riding up, and grabbed a copy of “Maxims” from the bookshelf.
I sat at my desk and turned on the computer.
“Did you find anything?” she asked, her gaze meeting mine.
She was incredibly perceptive, often sensing my thoughts before I even voiced them.
“Yes.” I stared at the loading screen. “Remember what I told you about my stepmother? That my father knew her before my mother died?”
“Yeah. We even planned a revenge scheme in case she and her son moved in with us.”
“I want to confirm it.”
In my previous life, after my father’s death, our apartment had been repossessed due to unpaid medical bills. But the strange thing was, it had ended up in the hands of my stepmother.
I was curious about their connection, and why my uncle, my father’s own brother, would facilitate such a transaction.
“How are you going to confirm it?” she asked, her curiosity piqued.
“I’m going to hack into their computer.”
My cousin would be playing games on his father’s computer at this hour. And I had his QQ number. All I had to do was…
Send a large data packet to the target, intercept the response, and extract the IP address… Success.
Load the network sniffing tool, scan for vulnerabilities, bypass the firewall… Success.
Create a user account, elevate privileges… Success.
Access granted.
My uncle was a technological novice. He hadn’t even bothered with a firewall.
I stared at the screen, my cousin’s gaming session displayed in real-time. He was playing CrossFire. I minimized the game window and opened his local files.
Games, games, more games, and some company documents…
Wait, what’s this? “VIP Client Data”?
I opened the folder, my heart pounding. And there it was, a personal profile, neatly organized and easily accessible.
“Who’s that?” Xiaodie asked, peering at the screen as a photo appeared.
“If I’m not mistaken, that’s my future stepmother.”
I downloaded the file and closed the remote connection.
A VIP client. It all made sense now.
My uncle and my stepmother had known each other long before that fateful banquet. It hadn’t been a coincidence.
Now I just needed to figure out why my father had cut ties with his brother.
As the download finished, a familiar icon flashed on my screen.
It was a message from Hua She.
“Yi Yao, meet me on the rooftop of the DK Arcade tonight. I’ll be alone. Don’t disappoint me.”
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