Chapter 29

Jokes

You're supposed to not refuse someone who's smiling at you — but this particular smile was almost aggressively radiant.

Chao Musheng stood there for a moment, genuinely unsure whether to accept the steaming breakfast being held out to him. He reached into his bag and produced a bread roll. "Thank you — I brought something, though."

Better to eat his own. Safer for the soul.

"Oh." Curly Hair seemed entirely untroubled. She held out a carton of milk instead. "You seem like a very disciplined person, Xiao Chao. Eating breakfast on time is a good habit."

"Thank you." He took the milk — and did not take out the milk already in his bag — and in return fished out a small container of biscuits. "I brought some biscuits. Would you like to try?"

Curly Hair looked at the transparent little box of bear-face biscuits and produced an expression of delight. "These are so cute."

Separating the player-versus-native dynamic for a moment: Chao Musheng was actually a very difficult person to dislike.

"They're good." Just the right size — one bite each, crisp and not too sweet. She ate two more before she noticed.

[Ding! Player has consumed food carrying a blessing aura. Health +5, today's Luck +2.]

Curly Hair went still. She opened her status panel and checked it twice. The three health points she'd lost waking up this morning had not only been restored — she'd gained two extra on top.

More startlingly: a luck boost. She had cleared more instances than she could count, and this had never happened before.

"Where do you buy these, Xiao Chao?" Her eyes were shining. "These are incredible."

She was going to eat these every single day.

"You probably can't buy them anywhere — my family made them." Seeing how much she liked his parents' baking, Chao Musheng smiled and pulled out a second box to give her. "Take more if you like."

When he'd got home last night and mentioned that all his colleagues had been good to him, his parents had promptly spent the next morning making an enormous bag of biscuits for him to take to the office.

"Your family made them." Curly Hair's chewing slowed. "No wonder nothing outside compares."

Something from a long time ago drifted back to her — before the infinite world. A new graduate had joined her company on internship and, within the first few days, had shown up with a beautifully packaged selection of homemade snacks to share around.

The intern had a warm personality and decent skills, and the snacks helped — she'd fit in quickly.

It was only after they became friends that Curly Hair learned the truth: the intern's parents had been worried she'd be left out when she first started, and had prepared the snacks themselves.

That was when she had first understood: a child who is loved, no matter how old they grow, will always be a small child in their parents' eyes.

That was why these ordinary bear-face biscuits gave health and luck. They carried something with them.

She ate two more and tucked the second untouched box into her bag.

"Curly?" Ah Ze came running out of Xingfu Estate, clearly having overslept and skipped breakfast. He looked between her and Chao Musheng standing at the roadside, confused. "What are you doing?"

Last night Curly had said she wasn't going to be Xiao Chao's devoted follower. Now here she was chatting with him at the roadside without even telling Ah Ze.

She avoided his eyes and pushed the breakfast bag into his hands. "You got up so late. Eat something."

"Thanks, you're the best." Ah Ze accepted it gratefully. He was very hungry.

Chao Musheng walked them to the office with ten minutes to spare.

Customer service was on the fourth floor. Curly Hair stepped off the elevator and remembered to say goodbye to Chao Musheng before the doors closed. "See you this afternoon, Xiao Chao."

"Hey." Once the elevator was gone, Ah Ze looked at her curiously. "Since when are you on such good terms with him?"

"If you have energy for that question, spend it thinking about how to handle customer complaints." Curly Hair kept walking. "Twenty-nine days left in the internship."

"I know my brain doesn't work well." Ah Ze scratched his head. "Sorry. I keep holding you back."

He was so guileless about it that she couldn't actually be angry with him.

"When I was little, I was pretty sharp. Then I had a car accident and spent most of a year in the hospital. After that, my brain goes fuzzy sometimes, and my friends stopped wanting to spend time with me. Apart from my mum and my grandma, you're the first person who's ever helped me sort things out when I've messed up, instead of just walking away."

"What about your dad?"

"He left when I was very young."

A long silence. Then Curly Hair, keeping her face carefully neutral: "I'm sorry."

"What are you apologizing for?" Ah Ze smiled the guileless smile. "It wasn't your fault. And my mum is really amazing — she made sure I had everything I needed."

Curly Hair didn't say anything more. She sat at her workstation, looked at the box of biscuits still in her bag, hesitated for a few seconds, then put it on Ah Ze's desk. "These are from Xiao Chao. One box each."

He was a useless idiot. But maybe two extra luck points could help him get through whatever the customers threw at him today.

*

[Daily random tasks have been generated. The remaining 23 players are encouraged to complete their tasks diligently and work toward clearing the instance.]

Twenty-five players had entered this instance. Twenty-three now. Two eliminated overnight.

She and the useless one had been forced by the system to ride a driverless bus with an unsettling route number, and encountered a passenger who appeared to be bleeding from every orifice. The other players must have had similar experiences.

No wonder the forums all said exploration instances in the new dimension had a near-zero survival rate.

She looked back at him, sighed, and got out the notebook she kept in her drawer. At the top of a fresh page she wrote: Standard Phrasing Guide for Handling Difficult Customers.

It was the best she could do.

*

The biscuits Chao Musheng brought in were a universal hit. Half the office had gone before he'd had two himself. He sat listening to the fragrant sweetness in the air and opened the family chat.

[Dusk at Dawn: Dear Mum and Dad — your biscuits were so popular I barely got any.]

No reply from his mother — probably in a meeting.

His father came back quickly.

[Peace Is Enough: And whose baking do you think that is. I'll make more at the weekend 😂]

Satisfied that his father was in good spirits and no longer worried about him being left out at work, Chao Musheng put his phone away and went back to the code.

The art department's specifications were detailed and ambitious. The ideas were good — genuinely good — but implementing them in-game created clipping problems. Until this was solved, putting them in meant shortchanging the players.

Players' money wasn't free.

After two or three hours of staring at the screen, Chao Musheng rubbed his eyes, picked up his thermos, and went out to the terrace break area for some air.

He was young. But ever since he'd first looked at his senior's thinning scalp, the imperative to protect his own hair had been etched permanently into his instincts.

The terrace had potted plants and seating under shade. Chao Musheng settled into a chair under one of the umbrellas and closed his eyes.

Footsteps nearby. He opened them.

Mr. Xu was crossing the terrace in a white shirt, the afternoon light falling across him. A dark tie. A blue-gemmed tie clip catching the sun.

"Mr. Xu." Chao Musheng stood. He'd stepped out for five minutes of rest and immediately encountered the CEO. What kind of luck was this?

"Am I disturbing you?" Mr. Xu stopped. "I'm sorry — I didn't notice anyone was out here."

A light breeze moved across the terrace. Chao Musheng caught a faint scent he couldn't quite name — something like the smell of open ground and running water, the breath of living things in nature.

Not exactly pleasant in the conventional sense. But comfortable. The kind of thing that made you want to stop walking and just exist for a moment.

"Please sit — don't let me chase you off." Mr. Xu rolled up his sleeve, bent down, and picked up the watering can from the corner. He began watering the pots. "Technical staff work under a lot of pressure. This terrace was built specifically to give you all somewhere to breathe."

"Though apparently employees tend to prefer the indoor break room." He set the watering can down, washed his hands, and came to sit beside Chao Musheng. "I heard you helped the technical team solve a problem on your first day. The technical department manager spoke to HR this morning about having you reassigned to the central technical group. What do you think?"

"Mr. Xu — I just arrived." From where he was sitting, Chao Musheng could see into the Team Three office through the window.

Everyone in Kunlun's technical division was there on merit. Team Three had looked after him from the moment he'd walked in. Leaving them behind the instant a promotion appeared — chasing it on his first week — wasn't just unkind. It wasn't smart. "The game team is working through some difficult technical problems at the moment. I'd like to stay and see that through first."

Mr. Xu gave a small nod. "HR will absolutely respect your preference."

He chose to stay with his colleagues over a more prestigious posting. The team must have made him feel genuinely welcome.

"You've hurt yourself?" Chao Musheng had noticed the mark on Mr. Xu's left hand.

"I caught it on something two days ago. A surface scratch." Mr. Xu moved his left hand below the table. The silver chain of his glasses shifted slightly with the movement, which made Chao Musheng look twice.

It probably suited him because his skin was so pale. Something about him resisted time and trend — an inherent quality that didn't depend on either.

Kunlun was a family enterprise with a long history. Every successive head had kept a low profile. Even now, in an era of total connectivity, very few people talked about who ran Kunlun. Compared to the high-visibility entrepreneur-celebrities with their millions of followers, Mr. Xu barely registered as a public presence.

His phone rang. His senior's voice came through, strained to breaking. "Xiao Chao, get back here — we need you—"

"Coming, coming, right now—" He hung up. "Mr. Xu, my colleague — I should go."

"Of course." Mr. Xu stood, hands clasped behind his back. "Don't push yourself too hard. Take care of yourself."

Mr. Xu, if you'd like to finish that thought before saying it — who benefits most when I work myself into the ground? When the game launches and single-day revenue hits tens of millions, does any of that go into my pocket?

"Even if it's for the sake of helping me make money." Mr. Xu smiled. "Go on — I'll head back too shortly."

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir. Goodbye, sir."

He would reiterate, once more, that a boss this considerate deserved every bit of fortune that came his way.

"Goodbye."

*

Standing alone on the empty terrace, Mr. Xu's smile faded slowly. He looked down at the mark on the back of his left hand.

It looked ugly. Would he find this hand repulsive?

If he'd known they would run into each other, he should have worn gloves.

He lowered his eyes, stood still for a moment, then turned his head. On the table beside him: a thermos, left behind by its owner.

*

When Chao Musheng got back to the office, his senior was mid-argument with several colleagues and a contingent from the art department, A4 papers flying in all directions. He took two quiet steps backward and assumed the expression of someone who had only just happened to wander past.

"All you ever do is make demands — what do you actually know about technical constraints?!"

"If we didn't make demands, would you even know what artistic vision is? Don't tell me something can't be done — players want what they want, and it's your job to figure out how. Technical division gets the highest bonuses of any department in this studio. What exactly do you have to complain about?!"

"So we're being paid not to work, is that it?"

"If that's how you see it, go explain it to the players yourself."

"Xiao Chao!" The senior, face red, looked up from the chaos to find Chao Musheng in the doorway. "Come explain to them what it actually takes to meet these specifications."

The art department people followed his gaze to Chao Musheng.

Chao Musheng: "..."

We've been in the same program, Senior. And in this moment, you won't even pretend not to see me — you're actively dragging me in.

Male friendship really is just plastic. One flame and it melts.

"Xiao Chao?" The art planning director's eyes went wide. "What are you doing here?"

"Sister Jia." He was equally surprised. "My upstairs neighbor Sister Jia?"

How many people does Kunlun employ that I know?

"I just started my internship here yesterday."

Sister Jia: "Don't tell me you're in the game technical team."

"I am." He bent down and picked up the nearest scattered A4 sheet, affecting a tone of complete innocence. "Did you come to coordinate with Senior on something?"

Sister Jia, without missing a beat: "Yes."

Two parties engaging in a frank exchange of professional perspectives. That counted as coordination.

With Chao Musheng present, Sister Jia's tone dialed back noticeably. "I understand the technical team has constraints too. But players' feedback can't just be set aside — is there room to explore a bit further?"

The standoff deflated. The room held an awkward, suspended silence. The senior ran a hand over his already-sparse hair. "Give us a week. We'll try again."

"I know it's hard on everyone." Sister Jia tapped her phone, opened a milk tea app, and placed an order. "My treat."

After every argument, you had to give each other an offramp. Otherwise next time would be even harder to start.

When the art department had gone, the senior turned to him. "How do you know the art planning director?"

"She lives in the flat above ours. She's always looked out for me. The year I was studying for my university entrance exam, she started tiptoeing around her apartment so I wouldn't be disturbed — and she collected past exam papers for me." Chao Musheng tidied the scattered A4 sheets into a stack. "I heard recently she'd been headhunted by a large company, offering very good terms. I didn't realize it was this one."

The senior was quiet for a moment, then pulled out his chair and sat. "Fine. For your sake, I won't hold this against the art planning team."

Though the keyboard sounds that followed were significantly more violent than necessary.

Chao Musheng kept his mouth shut.

Half an hour later, the milk tea arrived, and the keyboard sounds returned to a normal register.

"Team lead is Xiao Chao's senior. Boss Wan at the barbecue stall is Xiao Chao's classmate. Secretary Liu is Xiao Chao's contact. The art planning director is Xiao Chao's neighbor." Brother Li sipped his tea with great satisfaction. "Everywhere you look, Xiao Chao knows someone. At this rate — if you told me the CEO himself was your best mate, I'd believe you without blinking."

"Brother Li has the right idea. Actually, I know everyone in the world. It's a burden, honestly." Chao Musheng looked up with deliberate severity. "Unfortunately, you've heard too much. I'll have to have a word with my best mate and get him to dock your wages."

"Xiao Chao, what you need right now is to stop reading CEO romance novels." The senior laughed. "This is a legitimate company. Payroll changes go through HR and finance for approval."

"If Xiao Chao actually had the CEO as a best friend, why would he be stuck interning in our department? He'd just go straight to the executive suite." Everyone joined in, comfortably certain this was all extremely funny. "Your network of connections isn't quite wide enough yet, Xiao Chao. Keep working on it."

Chao Musheng typed one-handed, the other hand holding his milk tea. "Fine, fine. Give me three days to win over the CEO, one month to become second-in-command of Kunlun, and from there I'll personally escort all of you to the pinnacle of the business world."

"Save yourself the trouble — just lie down at lunch, get comfortable, and dream about it." The senior sighed. "Alright. Back to work, everyone."

*

At lunch, walking to the canteen, Chao Musheng spotted Curly Hair and Ah Ze waiting by the entrance from a distance.

When they saw him, both faces immediately brightened. "Xiao Chao!"

An impressive amount of radiance for the middle of a workday.

"Hello." He blinked. "Hi."

They seemed to have come specifically for the greeting. Having received it, they turned back toward the queue looking thoroughly pleased with themselves.

"Curly, why didn't we stay and eat with Xiao Chao? To build the relationship more?"

"Too much of anything is a problem." Curly Hair eyed the meat section, considered briefly, and quietly spooned a small amount into her bowl.

Saying hello showed goodwill. Hovering and disrupting someone's time with their colleagues showed no social awareness and made you irritating.

"Don't take any." She caught Ah Ze reaching for a drumstick. "Let me try first."

She had prepared a sacrificial item in advance, just in case.

They had a month in this instance. She was not eating plain greens for thirty days.

By the end of the meal, she had no negative status effects and no health loss. She relaxed. At least this instance wasn't cruel enough to put restrictions on food players needed to survive.

She returned her tray and brought Ah Ze over to say another goodbye to Chao Musheng before leaving.

Goodwill built gradually. As long as they kept this up every day, something good would come of it.

"Your intern friends are interesting," the senior said, stepping out of the elevator with Chao Musheng after lunch. "In a short break period, they still find a way to track you down for a greeting. More punctual about that than most people are about clocking in."

"Not much he can do about it, since our Xiao Chao knows people everywhere—" The colleague's voice cut off abruptly. He stared at the figure standing outside their office door.

Was that thermos... somehow familiar?

Oh.

When they recognized who was standing there, every single one of them turned and looked at Chao Musheng in collective disbelief.

We were joking. We were only joking this morning. And you actually went and—?!