Chapter 9: He Made Jingzhe's Little Incubus Cry
Three morning classes in a row, and Xu Fan was practically nodding off.
He was just about to slump onto the desk when Zhu Rong poked his arm.
"What?" Xu Fan turned his head.
Zhu Rong had been stewing on it for ages—his good-student genes acting up.
He pulled out his phone and sent Xu Fan a message.
[Rong]: If you were in a game and ran into some really powerful big shot, and he called you a god among men, how would you reply?
Xu Fan: "..."
See, this is why the kid's too polite to play games.
After thinking it over, Xu Fan typed back with a completely straight face.
Zhu Rong had a sudden revelation.
Having learned a brilliant trick, he put down his phone and went back to his book.
The moment the break bell rang, Xu Fan bolted out of the classroom like a stray dog off its leash, leaving Zhu Rong alone at his desk playing on his phone.
It had been over half a month since school started. Zhu Rong's WeChat chats consisted of nothing but the occasional harassment from Shen Zichen and the newly-acquainted Xu Fan—plus File Transfer Assistant.
He opened his grandpa's chat and sent a few photos of cats and dogs he'd snapped around campus recently, plus a picture of his meal.
Grandpa Zhu was seventy now—a proper internet-addicted old man.
Every time Zhu Rong called home, Grandma would tattle: the little old man was always secretly buying coffee drinks, or else scrolling on his phone under the covers at midnight. Never a moment of peace.
The photos had barely gone through when the old man fired back a dozen-second voice message.
[Grandpa]: Little treasure's eating so little?
[Grandpa]: [Grin] [Grin]
[Grandpa]: Transferred ¥200.
[Grandpa]: Little treasure, eat more. When your dad won't give you money, tell Grandpa and Grandma.
Zhu Rong hugged his backpack to his chest and didn't accept the transfer.
[Rong]: Keep it, Grandpa. Dad does give me money.
[Grandpa]: [Angry] [Angry]
[Grandpa]: [Cleaver] [Cleaver]
He sent dozens of pointless little emojis. When the class bell rang, Zhu Rong very quietly sent Grandpa a "class started," and the sticker bombardment finally stopped.
…
After class, Shen Zichen walked from the front row to the back of the lecture hall.
"Lunch together?" Shen Zichen asked.
Zhu Rong nodded. "Sure."
The two headed out of the classroom together. Zhu Rong had his hands stuffed in his pockets, shuffling along slowly, yawning every few steps.
Shen Zichen asked, "Stayed up late again?"
Zhu Rong shrank his neck. "I went to bed a little after twelve..."
Truth was, he hadn't slept right after logging off—his head was full of that Charm skill he'd missed.
Conservatively estimating, he'd fallen asleep around two.
Shen Zichen couldn't be bothered to scold him. "How'd your interview go? You think it went well? You gonna make it for sure?"
Three questions in a row—Zhu Rong was silenced.
He dodged eye contact. Shen Zichen leaned in suspiciously. "Hm?"
Zhu Rong decided to tell the truth.
"If it's a few dozen people interviewing, it's about skill. A few hundred, it's about luck. Over a thousand people interviewing... yeah, that depends on whether your ancestors racked up enough good karma."
"I knew it."
Shen Zichen turned back around without a hint of surprise.
"Just wait for the results."
"I recently met a senior on the forum. I told him about you. He says he's got decent connections with the Outreach Department—if you don't get the assistant position, I'll take you to meet him in the second round. You can still get into Outreach."
Outreach.
Zhu Rong had only vaguely heard Xu Fan mention it—apparently it was an extrovert's paradise. The main job was hosting guests from other schools and drumming up sponsorship for school events.
He tightened his backpack straps and mumbled, "Whatever works."
Zhu Rong's "whatever works" meant yes.
Shen Zichen pulled out his phone and sent someone a message.
A few seconds later.
[Yu]: Sure thing, little Chen.
[Yu]: ^^
Zhu Rong tilted his head for a peek. "Is that the senior?"
"Mm-hm. He's pretty enthusiastic—helped me out a lot even though we've never met."
Shen Zichen put his phone away and changed the subject.
"Let's just grab something quick for lunch—pickled fish or whatever. It's so crowded."
Zhu Rong wasn't picky. He just wanted to eat fast and get back to sleep. He yawned and followed Shen Zichen into the cafeteria.
-
No classes in the afternoon. Zhu Rong organized his notes and logged on at seven.
Jingzhe, surprisingly, wasn't online today. Zhu Rong checked again and again—the top right corner of that evil dragon account was gray.
He typed a few words and tentatively sent them into the chat box.
Jingzhe's account didn't react at all.
Zhu Rong couldn't decide whether to marvel at the fact that Jingzhe didn't actually live in the game 24/7, or to breathe a sigh of relief for himself after a whole day of nerves.
But Jingzhe wasn't online.
Which meant tonight he wouldn't come to his little cabin, grab the little incubus, and drag him through those torturous dungeons!
Awesome!
Today! He was! Free!
Plant flowers! Plant grass! Build a house!!!!
Zhu Rong hauled the basket of seeds out of storage and sat down seriously in the little courtyard to sort through them.
Last time Jingzhe said one kill owed ten in compensation and casually grabbed him a handful of lotus seeds, plus all kinds of exotic flowers and plants. Zhu Rong hadn't planned out how to plant the rest yet, so he decided to grow the lotuses he'd already planned first.
Zhu Rong picked out the lotus seeds and carefully sowed them in the wet mud.
He even used a few bottles of extravagant premium fertilizer, cutting the germination period from several days down to 20 minutes.
He also took out a bunch of sandalwood, planning to make a sandalwood bed.
Full-dive games had one advantage: resting in-game simulated real physiological processes. Which meant the little bed Zhu Rong made in the game—he could actually sleep on it.
The game interface could connect to the internet too. Zhu Rong found the most-viewed Otherworld Verdict DIY blogger on Xiaohongshu and followed along, carving mortise-and-tenon joints into the sandalwood and fitting the blocks together.
The bed was barely half done when the sky suddenly darkened again.
In-game weather, barring special events, generally didn't affect private cabins.
Zhu Rong looked up and saw the clouds gathering in the sky. A bad premonition stirred in his gut.
No way?
He'd clearly set an anchor point for Jingzhe, right!?
The clouds grew thicker and thicker, the center almost ink-black.
A channel opened in the middle of that cloud vortex.
Thunder cracked and lightning flashed as a pure-white dragon leaped down from the sky, landing precisely by Zhu Rong's pond.
Its claws crushed a dozen or so surrounding bricks, flipped half the pond, and sent the freshly sprouted lotuses sprawling onto the nearby rocks.
Even the fitted wooden bed collapsed halfway.
No—Zhu Rong had only finished half of it today. It had all collapsed.
The little incubus slowly picked himself up off the ground, wiped the pond water off his face, and let his tail droop way low.
Hete beamed brightly. He'd just shifted into human form and swaggered up to the little incubus:
"Holy crap, Jingzhe's method actually works—you can really get into someone else's private cabin. He's a genuine bug-abusing genius, uh—"
Zhu Rong glared at him with red-rimmed eyes, cradling those dead, ruined seedlings in his hands.
Hete's voice died in his throat.
His mind went completely blank. Only his heartbeat kept skyrocketing.
Oh no.
He'd made Jingzhe's little incubus cry.