v2c4: The End of the Holiday
October 7th. The last day of the holiday. Lu Li took his hands off the keyboard and let out a long sigh. He had finally completed the task Chu Xiaodong had given him. He sent the document to Secretary Long and received a simple “Okay” in response. A moment later, another message arrived: “Excellent work! I’ll let you know as soon as there are any updates!”
Older professionals seemed to love using exclamation points. He wondered why.
Lu Li logged onto the Valve platform and checked the store page for the game he had developed. He had uploaded the demo version on the first day of the holiday. For independent game developers, releasing a demo early to attract attention was the most cost-effective approach.
There were only thirty-something downloads, which was normal. Games without any marketing were the hardest to get off the ground, regardless of their quality. Some good games only gained recognition after seven or eight years, but by then, the developers had often moved on to other, more sustainable careers. Out of those thirty-something downloads, he estimated three or four were accidental clicks, a few were random clicks, a few were from web crawlers, and a few were from YouTubers who specialized in reviewing terrible games.
There were also two comments.
One was a genuine player review: “The art is terrible…”
Lu Li cringed. Was the art really that bad? He had just used a basic drawing tool to create it. The main issue was that he hadn’t found a suitable artist yet. But the comment was positive overall, indicating that the game was decent apart from the art.
The other comment was less than genuine.
“Trash game! Not even worth a single hair on ‘Black Wolf’s Ring.’”
The username was a string of random characters.
Only two types of people would say something like that: a troll or Chen Jianing.
Lu Li hadn’t expected Chen Jianing to be online twenty-four hours a day, scouring the internet for any game that might compete with hers. “Black Wolf’s Ring” was her self-indulgent project, priced at sixty yuan, and overwhelmingly negatively reviewed. She spent her days arguing with haters in the comment section.
No one else but the eccentric Chen Jianing would leave a comment like that.
In his previous life, he had also met Chen Jianing after releasing a demo. If he calculated correctly, it should be around these days. A mischievous thought crossed his mind. He opened her private message window and sent a single message: “Plagiarist!” For creative professionals, “plagiarism” was the most damaging accusation. Chen Jianing hadn’t plagiarized anything, but that didn’t stop him from trying to get under her skin.
To his surprise, she replied almost instantly.
“Who are you calling a plagiarist?! FNNDP!(Bullshit)”
Judging by her message alone, you would never guess that the sender was a cute girl. Her profile indicated she was male, her avatar was Orochimaru, and her bio read, “This little mouse is working hard today!” Her online persona was so complex that it was impossible to associate her with the word “female.”
In reality, she was incredibly socially awkward and only felt comfortable expressing herself online.
Lu Li, determined to tease her further, typed: “You can’t even plagiarize properly! 90% negative reviews and you still have the nerve to advertise your game everywhere!” He chuckled as he typed, imagining her fuming.
As expected, she sent a long message defending herself. He replied with two words:
“Triggered.”
“Triggered,” “salty,” “filial piety,” “clam,” “numb” – these were the five magic words of online arguments. You didn’t even need to read what the other person was saying. Just send one of these words in response to their long-winded rant, and you would achieve spiritual victory, a more sophisticated form of self-deception. If they took you seriously, they would get angry and lose their composure. Chen Jianing was undoubtedly that kind of person.
“You idiot! Give me your address! I’ll send you some local specialties!”
She sent five or six more insults, clearly enraged.
This was the moment to ignore her, to let her stew in her frustration, unable to vent her anger. After ranting for a while, she saw that the jerk on the other end wasn’t responding. Just as she was about to log off in frustration, she received another message from Lu Li: “Pure dinner.”
Her anger flared up again. She typed out a furious response, ready to unleash her literary wrath, but then she saw a system notification – she had been blocked.
“Hahaha!” Lu Li laughed so hard his stomach hurt. He was certain that he had driven Chen Jianing to the brink of insanity. In his previous life, she had tormented him; now it was his turn. He felt no guilt whatsoever. She had a high tolerance for stress and even seemed to enjoy online arguments.
In his previous life, they had exchanged over two thousand comments, leaving onlookers speechless. It was that intense argument that had prompted Chen Jianing to challenge him to a real-life fight. When Lu Li arrived at the designated location, fully prepared for a brawl, he was stunned to see a petite girl standing there.
“Little Pear, what are you looking at? Why are you smiling so happily?” Zou Yameng limped into the room, leaning against the wall. Lu Li hurried to support her, his eyes involuntarily glancing at her bare legs. He was puzzled.
“Where did you get a computer?”
“Someone lent it to me.”
“Hmm…” Zou Yameng hummed, not pressing for details. “Is this your game? Are you planning to earn your college tuition with this?”
“Yes.”
“How much have you earned so far?”
“I’m still operating at a loss.”
Zou Yameng chuckled and looked at him with affection. “You’re so cute.”
“Am I?” He wasn’t pretending to be clueless.
In his sister’s eyes, everything he did was interpreted positively. If she called him cute, she probably meant he was silly. He didn’t bother explaining, just smiled sheepishly and helped her sit on the bed.
“Sis, do you want to watch a movie?”
“We can watch movies now?”
“Of course.” Lu Li paused, remembering that his sister had never been to a movie theater. Not just a movie theater, but also KFC, the aquarium, the amusement park… Their lives had been devoid of such entertainment. In elementary school, unable to write an essay, she had copied one from a book about a trip to the Children’s Palace. The teacher had caught her because there was no Children’s Palace in the Low-Rent District.
Other people had their childhoods; theirs was different.
“Comedy? Horror? Or romance?”
“No horror, no horror!” Zou Yameng quickly covered her eyes. “Put that picture away! The cover is so scary!”
Lu Li clicked on “Flipped.” “Sis, lean against the pillow. You’ll be more comfortable.”
“Come here and let me lean on you.”
Lu Li nodded obediently, sitting behind her, letting her snuggle against him, acting as her human cushion. The beautiful woman in his arms, the peaceful world around them… If only time could stop, freezing this moment forever. He couldn’t help but pick up a strand of her hair and gently blow on it, like blowing bubbles as a child.
“What are you doing? That tickles.” Zou Yameng looked up at him. He had grown taller than her, and now she could fit perfectly in his arms.
He thought she looked adorable with her flushed cheeks, her eyes sparkling like a clear spring pond in early spring. He suddenly pushed her away, sitting awkwardly with his legs pressed together. Zou Yameng stared at him, then smiled mischievously, saying nothing, yet everything was understood.
This holiday belonged to Zou Yameng.
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