Can We Get Married First?  8

Chapter 8

After dinner, Chi Lin felt revitalized.

To find the Empress, she needed to understand the rules of this era.

The living room had a wall of books, all physical copies, some related to history.

Chi Lin noticed the binding and text layout differed from Dayuan’s conventions, and the characters were simplified.

She started with the history books.

A book titled Five Thousand Years of Historical Structure listed the names of various dynasties. Chi Lin read carefully, but there was no mention of the Yuan Dynasty.

How could this be? Dayuan had a rich history of 124 years, marked by prosperity and wise rule. It had brilliant advisors and renowned generals. Though there were internal and external troubles by the time the Empress ascended the throne, its achievements were undeniable. Why was it completely absent from history?

“Why?” she murmured. “Why is there no record of the Yuan Dynasty?”

Her words, though unintentional, were picked up by the X-H system. The keyword “why” triggered its question-and-answer mode.

“Chi Lin, are you looking for information on the Yuan Dynasty?”

Startled by the sudden voice from the wall, Chi Lin saw the sentence displayed on the screen.

However, it said “Yuan,” not “Dayuan.” She had seen the character for “Yuan” in the textbooks today. This was different.

“Who are you?” she asked the glowing wall.

“I am X-H, a smart home system developed by N-T Corporation. You can call me XH, or you can give me a name you prefer.”

“What is a smart home system?”

“The following information is from Qiandu Encyclopedia. A smart home system utilizes advanced computer technology, network communication technology, intelligent cloud control, integrated wiring technology, medical electronic technology, based on ergonomic principles, integrating personalized needs…”

X-H, in a pleasant female voice, patiently explained concepts beyond Chi Lin’s understanding.

Though overwhelmed by the technical jargon, Chi Lin tried to absorb the information.

“So, you’re not a real person, but a… system?”

“Yes, I am different from humans. Biologically speaking, humans are of the species Homo sapiens, a highly social primate. I am a collection of program code and electronic components created by humans, a circuit with specific functions…”

“You’re not human, yet you can converse with me?”

“Not only can I converse, but I can also perform many other tasks.”

Chi Lin found the system knowledgeable and organized. Though she didn’t understand “program code” or “electronic components,” she sensed this system could be a valuable source of information about this era.

More importantly, it wasn’t human, just a machine, and unlike Liu Huixin, it didn’t ask too many questions.

Seeking knowledge from it would minimize unnecessary complications.

Intrigued, Chi Lin returned to the kitchen and selected “Potato Chips” from the “Snacks” menu.

The compartment opened, presenting a plate of golden, crispy chips with a dollop of tomato sauce.

Still no chopsticks. Undeterred, Chi Lin carried the plate back to the living room, eating the chips while engaging in a lengthy conversation with X-H.

From dynastic changes to world wars and industrial revolutions, Chi Lin peppered X-H with questions.

…

Lou Mi hadn’t slept well since her argument with Lan-jie.

With the Winter World Cup approaching, she needed to focus on practice matches and team synergy.

Whenever her mind wandered, Lan-jie’s words echoed in her ears, a constant reminder of her declining performance.

She knew why Lan-jie was furious. It was the same old issue.

She had intended to avoid the club for a few days but felt guilty about Lan-jie taking her frustration out on Pagoda and Xie Buyu.

With Xiao V and A Bao poached by another team, Nine Heavens was a shadow of its former self. Only two veteran members remained. Lan-jie wouldn’t dare push the new trainees too hard, so Pagoda and Xie Buyu bore the brunt of her anger.

It was all her fault, so she had to face the music.

After dropping off Chi Lin, Lou Mi headed to the club.

She parked in the ENIAC club garage and took the elevator to the 98th floor.

The high-speed elevator reached the top in under a minute. Speed was everything in this era.

Looking down from the glass windows, the city lights twinkled, and cars on the highway moved purposefully towards their programmed destinations.

The elevator doors opened, revealing the ENIAC logo, the familiar, bold red letters.

ENIAC, the world’s first general-purpose computer. The name had drawn her to the club, where she formed the Nine Heavens team and led them to countless victories.

ENIAC was once her passion, a place where she had poured her heart and soul.

But today, standing at the entrance, she felt a wave of weariness.

She lingered by the snack counter. The receptionist hurried out, laptop in hand, and saw Lou Mi.

“Mi-jie, you’re here!”

Lou Mi grunted. “Is Zhuo Jinglan around?”

“Not only is she around, she’s been waiting for you all day…”

Lou Mi: “…”

She scanned the reception desk for a potential weapon, just in case Zhuo Jinglan decided to attack.

Everything was either too big or too small.

She finally settled for a tube of superglue. If Zhuo Jinglan started her usual rant, she could glue her mouth shut.

Zhuo Jinglan, 41, single, one of ENIAC’s major shareholders, the one who brought Lou Mi into the world of esports. Her coach, mentor, and current manager.

Aside from her fiery temper, Lan-jie was generally a good person.

Inside the club, the new trainees were practicing.

They lay in specialized chairs, eyes closed, hands gripping stress balls.

These stress balls were designed for esports athletes, converting mental pressure into grip strength during intense gameplay.

They provided comfort and monitored brainwave activity, alerting players to take a break if their stress levels exceeded safe limits.

The trainees greeted Lou Mi quietly, careful not to disturb their teammates.

Lou Mi nodded in acknowledgment, still searching for Zhuo Jinglan. She turned and saw a figure looming behind her.

She squeezed the superglue tube in her hand. It exploded.

Lou Mi: “…”

Zhuo Jinglan: “What’s wrong? Guilty conscience?”

Lou Mi: “Nothing…”

Her hand was stuck. This glue was incredibly strong.

She tried to pry her fingers open with her left hand, but her left thumb, index, and middle fingers got glued together as well.

What is going on?

She shouldn’t have come…

Zhuo Jinglan, seemingly oblivious to Lou Mi’s predicament, didn’t yell. Instead, she put an arm around Lou Mi’s shoulder and led her to her office.

“Have you eaten?” she asked, a gentle smile on her face.

Lou Mi: “Don’t do that. You’re scaring me.”

Zhuo Jinglan chuckled. “Is there anything that can scare our Lou-jie?”

“A thousand-year-old fox doesn’t eat people. It just smiles at them. Of course, I’m scared.”

Zhuo Jinglan raised her hand as if to strike.

“That’s the Lan-jie I know,” Lou Mi said.

Zhuo Jinglan, too tired for banter, let her hand fall. “So, you’ve been avoiding me?”

“Not at all,” Lou Mi replied. “It’s my dad. He and his girlfriend are on a business trip, and they left her demon spawn in my care. You’ve met that little hellion. One minute unsupervised, and she causes a million dollars’ worth of damage.”

Zhuo Jinglan scoffed. “Your dad and your stepmom are away. Why haven’t you abandoned Chi Lin in the wilderness yet? ‘Taking care of her’? Who are you kidding?”

Lou Mi frowned. “She’s not my stepmom. They’re not married.”

“Not married yet, but living together. It’s only a matter of time. Same difference.”

Lou Mi didn’t respond. Zhuo Jinglan realized she had touched a nerve.

Lou Mi’s usual expressionless face was intimidating enough. When annoyed, her anger radiated from her eyes, a terrifying sight.

Neither of them realized they were equally intimidated by each other.

“Enough small talk. Have you thought about what we discussed?”

Here it comes.

“Retirement?” Lou Mi looked down at her glued hands.

“You still haven’t decided?”

Lou Mi remained silent.

Zhuo Jinglan was about to lose her patience.

“Wasn’t my last explanation enough? What more do you need? Fine, let’s be blunt. The lifespan of an esports athlete is getting shorter. You know this.” Zhuo Jinglan tapped her head. “The access crystals connect directly to your neurons, creating the game world within your brain. Younger brains react faster. Reaction speed is everything in esports. You’re 25. In any other profession, you’d be in your prime, maybe even a rookie. But in esports, you’re a veteran. Whether you admit it or not, it’s true. Your performance last season and in the spring practice matches speaks for itself. No matter how many championships you’ve won, if you fail this year, everyone, from the shareholders to your fans, will see you as a failure. ‘HighTowerMiyuki,’ the champion, the goddess, will be a thing of the past. A few might remember your glory days, your two consecutive years at the top, but most will only remember your downfall, your humiliating defeat. It’s better to retire now, while you still have some dignity.”

Lou Mi felt a surge of anger. “Are you serious, Lan-jie? You want me to retire now? The club is struggling. Xiao V and A Bao are gone. We’re short-handed. If I retire now, we’re handing the championship to our rivals on a silver platter.”

Zhuo Jinglan stubbed out her lipstick-stained cigarette, staring at Lou Mi. Reluctantly, she said, “If you retire, the team’s ranking won’t affect you. But if you stay, no matter how many teammates we lose, if we lose, it’ll all be on you. Don’t you understand?”

Lou Mi knew Lan-jie cared about her.

She was trying to protect her.

But Lou Mi wasn’t ready to retire.

She had promised to lead the team to three consecutive championships, an unprecedented feat.

It was a promise to ENIAC, to herself, and to her fans.

And…

Without esports, without “Return to Jianghu,” what was left?

Spending her days bickering with that little brat Chi Lin?

They sat in silence.

Zhuo Jinglan chain-smoked.

“If you light another cigarette, I’m calling the police,” Lou Mi finally said.

Zhuo Jinglan swore, and Lou Mi laughed.

“Talking to you is a waste of time!” Zhuo Jinglan said, rubbing her temples.

“Lan-jie,” Lou Mi said seriously, “I know you’re under a lot of pressure to say this. Give me one more year. One last season. I’ll retire next summer. For my own sake and for my fans.”

Zhuo Jinglan sighed, her brow furrowed. “I’ll talk to the board.”

Then, she couldn’t resist adding, “Lou Mi, you’re still young. Your health is important… Have you seen the doctor?”

Lou Mi wasn’t surprised she knew. “Yes.”

“What did they say?”

“It’s a common esports-related condition. Nothing to worry about. Are you so eager for me to retire because you’re afraid I’ll die?”

“Don’t be ridiculous!”

Lou Mi laughed, a flash of youthful mischief in her eyes.

“Alright, that’s all I wanted to say. Go home and get some rest. You look exhausted.”

Back in her car, Lou Mi tried to set the navigation, but her hands were still stuck.

Damn it!

What do I do? Go to the hospital?

But the press would have a field day.

25-Year-Old Esports Star Glues Hands Together, Rushes to Hospital.

How embarrassing.

She decided to go home and consult X-H.

…

Chi Lin had spent the evening talking to X-H, her throat dry.

The influx of information was overwhelming. She had barely scratched the surface.

But understanding the general context helped her organize the vast knowledge.

She now understood X-H was a machine created through some extraordinary method. Though she didn’t understand the how, she was impressed by its vast knowledge, surpassing even the most learned scholars of Dayuan.

She felt a deep sense of gratitude and respect.

When Lou Mi arrived home, she saw Chi Lin bowing deeply to the wall, seemingly expressing her thanks.

To the wall…

She’s still not right in the head.

Lou Mi slipped into the house and disappeared into her room.