“Boss, a large bowl of beef noodles!”

At a small eatery just outside campus, Su Yuan found an empty table and called out to the busy middle-aged man behind the counter.

Not long after, a steaming bowl of beef noodles arrived. He picked up his chopsticks and began eating heartily, slurping up broth and noodles together.

Night had fallen over campus. The moon shone brightly across the quiet grounds, stars scattered like glitter in the sky. An indistinct floral scent drifted through the rustling leaves, carrying with it the dry smell of earth and the fresh fragrance of grass and trees.

On a whim, Su Yuan wandered into the campus grove. He passed over bridges, around rock gardens, and beside a small lake, feeling the vastness of heaven and earth open up within him. His spirit lifted, his mind cleared. Only when the clock struck eight did he finally head back to his dorm.

The room was still pitch black. Ji Yehan and Gao Jun would not return until tomorrow. Shaking his head, Su Yuan pulled out his laptop and prepared to go online.

He clicked a few times, but no webpage appeared.

Then he realized the internet client had been blocked again by the telecom provider. Binhe Institute of Technology used a client-based dial-up system for campus internet, with one account per student. For some inexplicable reason, university administrators had recently decreed that only students who had passed the College English Test Band 4 could receive an internet account.

This rigid rule left countless students in despair. Su Yuan was clearly one of them.

Fortunately, there was a workaround. As the saying went, true experts always emerged from among ordinary people. After much pleading, he managed to find a coding genius in the computer science department at the neighboring Hangdian University. This student had reverse-engineered a custom client. By purchasing a slightly larger data package, one account could be shared through a router, allowing the entire dorm to use the connection simultaneously. One machine dialed in, and everyone surfed freely.

But such tricks never lasted long. These unofficial clients typically survived no more than a semester, and some disappeared in less than a week.

It was enough to make anyone sigh in frustration.

Now, as the connection failed once again, Su Yuan knew the software had met its end. The room was dark and silent, the stillness almost suffocating. Being alone in the dorm felt unbearable. He grabbed his keys, checked his wallet, ID, and network card, and decided to head to an internet café for an all-nighter.

The campus internet café was located just north of Binhe Institute of Technology, in a newly developed residential area that had quickly attracted many student customers.

He walked through lush green woods and followed a stone-paved path. Soon, the café’s massive neon logo appeared across the street.

Inside, the place was spacious, with over a hundred LCD monitors. About half were occupied. After buying a session card, Su Yuan went straight to a private booth on the second floor and settled in alone.

As he paid, the young female attendant gave him a flirtatious wink, likely charmed by his good looks. Su Yuan, ever confident, returned the gesture with pride. Many people told him he was handsome, and he fully agreed. Of course, others claimed he was not handsome but rather “pretty” or even “girly.” To that, Su Yuan had a firm opinion. Anyone who called him girly simply lacked taste. Utterly vulgar!

He disliked gaming around others. No matter how intense the shouts from other players, they all sounded like noise to him. Partly because the game he played was rather childish.

Zhu Xian 2, and he was playing a cross-gender character.

He chose Zhu Xian 2 for its dazzling visuals. When it came to games, Su Yuan always valued style over substance. And the cross-gender avatar? Also for the aesthetics. His character was a Fox Spirit from the Lieshan Clan, delicate, soft-spoken, and undeniably cute from the very beginning.

He loved dressing up as a fox girl and acting adorable.

In-game, his little fox had latched onto a wealthy player, a true big spender, who showered him with ingots, gear, pets, and mounts. His level shot up like a rocket.

But with the new semester starting, and given how playing a “girl” character clashed with his self-image as a rugged guy, not to mention the teasing from friends who called him “effeminate,” Su Yuan had decided tonight would be his last session. He planned to delete the account afterward.

On screen, his pink-clad fox spirit drew a glittering bow, firing arrows with each delicate cry and enemy scream. Su Yuan tapped his mouse excitedly.

Ahem.

Then disaster struck. His little fox collapsed to the ground. The words “Return to City for Resurrection” flashed on screen.

He rubbed his nose, rueful. He had seen the beginning but not the end, his beloved fox had been killed.

Annoyed, he glanced at the clock in the bottom right corner. It was nearly eleven. His poor fox lay abandoned in the wilderness. Fine. Let this be the game’s poetic finale. How tragically beautiful! So full of meaning!

He quit the game and began browsing for a movie.

“What to watch tonight?”

For Su Yuan, a great film was not about blockbuster effects but about stirring thought or emotion. Believing himself intellectually refined, he selected something that looked sophisticated: The Last Man on Earth. Okay, he admitted it, the suggestive blurb had drawn him in. The plot described how, in the summer of 2002, every mammal with a Y chromosome suddenly died worldwide, leaving only one young man and his pet monkey alive.

Wait.

One lonely man. One pathetic monkey. And over three billion women. Was this a tragedy or the ultimate fantasy?

Late into the night, he chatted with fellow insomniacs online until exhaustion overtook him. He curled up on the plush leather sofa chair and drifted off to sleep.

Morning came at seven.

Su Yuan opened his eyes to find his computer logged out. His head felt foggy. He shook it clear, stretched, and stepped out of the café.

The sun was already blazing. Still groggy, he shielded his eyes with a hand. Grabbing a quick bite from a street vendor, he trudged back toward campus, dreaming only of his bed.

“Hey, young man, please stop for a moment!”

Su Yuan turned, mid-bite into a meat bun, to see a young Taoist waving at him. Great, he had run into a con artist.

“What do you want?”

“Young man, sir! Please walk slowly,” said the Taoist, dressed in wide-sleeved, cross-collared robes of muted gray-green, hurrying after him.

“Sir, I observe your face is pale, your steps unsteady, and a dark line lingers between your brows. This is a sign of grave misfortune…”

Yeah, right. You have been lurking outside the internet café. Did you not see me pull an all-nighter? Su Yuan ignored him and kept walking.

“Sir! Wait!”

The young Taoist lunged forward, arms spread, blocking his path. His wide sleeves fell open, revealing a gleaming gold ring on his finger. Su Yuan did not know if Taoists were allowed to wear rings, but one that flashy seemed unnecessarily showy.

“Sir, you are facing imminent disaster, bloodshed and calamity!”

“Get lost! Do not say such unlucky things!” Su Yuan frowned and tried to brush past him. Though not religious, he still respected old superstitions.

But no matter which way he turned, the Taoist blocked him, as if he had singled Su Yuan out specifically.

“What do you want?” Su Yuan snapped. “There are dozens of people leaving the café. Why pick on me? Do you think I am too scrawny to throw a punch?”

“I am a real Taoist, not a fake one.”

“What is the difference?”

“A huge one!”

“Then why do you not call yourself ‘this humble Daoist’ like they do in novels?” Su Yuan challenged.

The Taoist grinned slyly. “Ah, sir, you do not know. Modern Taoists rarely use ‘this humble Daoist’ anymore. We just say ‘I.’”

Su Yuan was speechless. This guy was definitely up to no good.

“Dao values life above all. Boundless compassion saves all beings. May blessings be infinite…” the Taoist began chanting.

Su Yuan cut him off. “Just say what you want.”

“I see your inner and outer qi are both depleted, a sign of the Five Decays, an omen of doom. Fortunately, I happen to carry a Jade Imperial Seal that can turn danger into safety.”

“Cut to the chase. How much?”

The Taoist’s eyes lit up. This sir is sharp! Truly gifted! Worth my effort to save!

“This treasure is born of heaven and earth, infused with spiritual energy, brimming with merit, capable of reversing fate itself. As for price…” He cleared his throat. “To speak of money would profane its sacred nature. I accept no payment.”

Classic bait-and-switch, the Taoist thought smugly.

“Oh? Free? Then give it to me.” Su Yuan snatched the so-called “Jade Imperial Seal” from his hand and examined it. It was just a plain rectangular jade piece, emerald green, about half the size of his palm.

The Taoist’s face twitched, but he quickly forced a smile. “No money, but… merit must be offered.”

“What merit?”

The Taoist’s expression shifted. “This kind of merit!” He rubbed his thumb and forefinger together.

“Oh, that kind!” Su Yuan laughed. He knew real jade when he saw it, and he liked this piece. Pulling a red 100-yuan bill from his pocket, he handed it over. “Is this ‘merit’ big enough?”

The Taoist pouted. Bigger would have been better! But seeing Su Yuan already walking away, he did not bother chasing him. After all, he had found the jade anyway, trading it for a crisp bill was not bad at all. Whistling a tune, he strolled toward the crosswalk.

Suddenly there was a screech of brakes. A thud. A cry of pain.

Su Yuan turned back to see the smug little Taoist sprawled on the road, blood streaming from his forehead, yelling at the driver. The prophecy had come true, bloodshed and calamity.

Su Yuan could not help but chuckle. It seemed the Taoist had taken the misfortune meant for someone else upon himself. Truly selfless. Truly meritorious!

Back in the dorm, unable to keep his eyes open any longer, Su Yuan flopped onto his bed. Outside, the air was sweltering, but with the air conditioner and fan working together, wrapped in a light blanket, he slept soundly.

He only stirred again when he heard movement nearby.