An unavoidable meeting.

If it weren't for the dead of night and her own composure, she would have let out a blood-curdling scream.

She really was done!

What was this about an "old aunt in her twenties"?!

May I ask you, kid, did you finish your homework yet? Would you like me to buy you a few sets of English mock exam papers to encourage you?

She took several deep breaths, closed her eyes, and thought viciously: A youth anti-addiction system really needs to be launched as soon as possible. It wasn't that she was petty; it was that protecting the flowers of the motherland was a matter of extreme urgency. She truly couldn't wait another second.

...

By the time the second player entered the room, Ye Mian was still trying to figure out how to disable stranger invites. Hearing someone join, she didn't offer a warm greeting. Instead, she took one look at the avatar and asked defensively, "Are you Jiang Chen?"

She couldn't help it; her fragile heart couldn't withstand another attack from a childish voice.

"Yes, it's me."

Fortunately, it was Jiang Chen. The man's uniquely cold and clear voice came through the game lobby, carrying a hint of static and a slightly low timbre.

Ye Mian's eyes brightened, and she finally pressed the "Invite Only" setting. She couldn't wait to return to the room interface. Jiang Chen's nickname was as minimalist as possible: just a single period. His avatar was the default game icon—a featureless, white, stick-figure-like character, incredibly bland.

Ye Mian smiled, her brows curving. It was certainly Jiang Chen’s style.

"Have you played this kind of game before?" she asked curiously. She had assumed the question was redundant; Jiang Chen was busier than her—when would he ever have time for gaming?

But Jiang Chen’s answer caught her off guard. The man’s voice was gentle. "I played it a long time ago. The PC version."

"A long time ago..." Ye Mian paused, eyes widening in disbelief. "You were so busy back then and still had time for games?" Did her twenty-four hours not count the same as his? Wasn't time supposed to be the most fair thing between people?

"Yes, when I was working part-time."

Jiang Chen sat on the sofa. In the ashtray, a cigarette he hadn't finished continued to burn, a thin trail of white smoke drifting upward. He smiled nonchalantly. "I was tutoring at the time. The kid was a bit mischievous and wouldn't study unless I beat him at the game."

"That's amazing, making tutoring so fun." Ye Mian blinked, imagining Jiang Chen huddled with a child playing games—it actually sounded quite heartwarming.

"I suppose so," the man replied with a weary, gentle laugh.

He finally started the game in earnest.

...

But in truth, that wasn't it at all.

When Jiang Chen was a student, he had only tutored for one family. Only one family had been willing to hire a high school student. The child, nicknamed Xiaobao, hadn't been easy to handle. Asking him to win the game was just an excuse; the boy’s goal was to play and stall for time.

That summer had been sweltering. Jiang Chen had looked over the rules and skills, and by the second round, he had won. Seeing this, Xiaobao threw a tantrum and was scolded by his father. Afterward, Xiaobao smashed the keyboard to pieces, hid a small knife, and tried to ambush Jiang Chen with it.

The small voice had been hysterical: "Just die already, then I won't have to study!"

The malice had been overwhelming, and Jiang Chen’s blood had flowed incessantly. Xiaobao's mother had apologized as usual, trying to use a few banknotes to smooth things over, looking at Jiang Chen as if he were nothing more than a tool—a spineless, pathetic tool that only cared about money.

The money hadn't been accepted; it scattered on the floor, one bill drifting under the boy's feet. It was like his unprotected self-esteem, exposed under the family’s gaze. The seventeen-year-old, his thin, bony back stiffened as he clenched his fists, only to relax them as he crouched down. His pale eyes held no emotion at all.

He had long understood that integrity and pride couldn't put food on the table.

He just hadn't expected that, upon returning home, he would encounter a girl squatting by the roadside in tears. That day, the girl told him she hoped he could celebrate her birthday.

—

They played several rounds. With Jiang Chen there, and given that it was a low-tier lobby, their rank climbed quickly. As the number of bots dwindled, Ye Mian finally had a blast. Once she got the hang of the controls, she became more adept, eventually racking up quite a few kills.

Seeing that it was getting late, she told Jiang Chen she was going to take a shower, then put down her phone and headed happily toward the bathroom.

—

After the girl logged off, Jiang Chen took off his long trench coat and tucked a cigarette between his lips. A flame sparked, and smoke curled from his thin lips.

The large apartment he lived in had been bought long ago. It was perfectly situated in the financial district, with plenty of space. He turned on the lights, and the room was bathed in brightness. All the furnishings and decor had been handled by designers—high-end and stylish, yet lacking any sense of life.

It was exactly as the girl had described.

It lacked the warmth of a home.

The man’s cold, clear eyes lifted. He stubbed out his cigarette and went to the bathroom to shower; the water made his scabbing wounds turn a vivid red. After changing into the comfortable pajamas the girl had bought for him, he sat in the study for a while.

The computer was already on, filled with work waiting to be processed. His inbox was cluttered with interview invitations, including some from entertainment channels, along with self-introductions from media companies.

Suddenly, Jiang Chen lost all patience for work.

He turned toward the balcony, poured himself a cup of clear tea, and took a light sip. Across the city, iconic buildings radiated dazzling light; the towering LED screens displayed the latest luxury advertisements and slogans wishing everyone a happy new year.

Watching these scenes, his pale, smoke-gray eyes seemed to see a different sight instead: the water town composed of the pictures the girl had sent him.

It should have falling snow, stone bridges, and wooden boats. It should have traditional architecture and gentle, flowing water. It should have the girl, standing right under a red lantern.

He suddenly felt that everything around him was so dull.

Thinking of something, he curled his lips, reached over to the computer screen, and began meticulously attending to his work projects.

Why did he suddenly want to work?

For a moment, Jiang Chen felt dazed.

A notification sound rang out. The girl's voice played through the phone’s speaker.

"Jiang Chen, let me ask you a question. There’s this kind, lovely, high-principled girl who does nothing but good and never touches anything bad, but suddenly, at ten o'clock at night, she’s a little hungry. She wants a late-night snack, and she guarantees that after eating it, she’ll be even kinder in the future. Do you think she should eat it?"

The girl’s voice was crisp and bright, filled with a playfulness that made him want to smile.

Jiang Chen rested his finger on the voice recording button and said softly, "I think she should eat it."

Ye Mian’s reply came back immediately, clearly delighted.

"Right? That’s what I thought too. So, this girl is going to have her snack."

The answer to the question he had been pondering earlier emerged clearly. Jiang Chen realized that in Qiao Town, there was a little girl he couldn't help but see.

He would have to finish his work and go see the person he couldn't help but meet.