The Digital Generation Gap

Ten minutes later.

The helicopter atop the roof had yet to take off when Zhou Kai and the others reported in through the earpiece.

“Boss, the national treasure has been delivered to the museum!”

The helicopter’s propellers were roaring. Several oblivious staff members were carefully moving empty safes, hoisting them onto the aircraft.

Ji Fengjing took a few steps toward the stairwell until the thundering noise subsided slightly. He offered a smile and a word of praise: “Good job. Did you get them?”

Zhou Kai responded immediately, “We caught two. There’s still one more, but he won’t get away.”

After a quick update on the progress of the arrests, Zhou Kai cut the transmission.

Ji Fengjing was in an excellent mood; the mission had taken less time than he’d anticipated.

“Mr. Ji, it’s time to board!” a staff member shouted as he ran toward him. Worried that the roar of the blades would drown him out, he yelled at the top of his lungs, “Mr. Wen is waiting for you!”

Ji Fengjing looked in the direction he pointed. The staff and escorts had already secured the safe, and the rest of the team was seated around it, guarding it vigilantly.

Only Wen Xingchen remained standing below the helicopter, his gaze fixed in Ji Fengjing’s direction.

He was waiting.

The wind whipped up by the propellers had turned his professionally styled hair into a mess. The “abstinent” look of the mature man was broken, replaced by a disheveled, casual beauty.

Seeing Ji Fengjing standing still, Wen Xingchen raised a hand in a gesture.

‘Come here.’

Ji Fengjing snapped out of it, realizing he had been staring. Feeling a bit embarrassed, he jogged over.

“Get on,” Wen Xingchen said, gesturing toward the cabin.

The noise was deafening, completely swallowing his voice, but Ji Fengjing was no ordinary person; he heard him crystal clear. He didn’t stand on ceremony and hopped inside.

The helicopter was large, but with the safe and the crowd of staff, it felt a bit cramped once Wen Xingchen boarded and sat down.

Wen Xingchen sat right beside him.

The helicopter began its slow, spiraling ascent. Having flown in helicopters many times before, Ji Fengjing felt no discomfort. Through the din, he caught Wen Xingchen asking, “What were you looking at just now?”

Ji Fengjing didn’t find his own behavior odd. He replied, “You mean when I was boarding? I was looking at you.”

However, the noise in the cabin was too great. Wen Xingchen couldn’t hear a thing; he only saw Ji Fengjing’s lips moving.

Wen Xingchen tilted his head, leaning in slightly. “What?”

Ji Fengjing remembered then—ordinary people weren’t like him; they didn’t have his acute hearing.

He raised his voice and shouted toward Wen Xingchen, “I said I was looking at you! You looked really handsome just now!”

The colleagues in the Special Operations Department were a bunch of jokers. Every day at work, they’d trade quips. “Yo, you’re looking like a functional human today, almost handsome.” “Damn, why are you dressed so sharp? You got a blind date tonight?” “Boss, look at my new clothes. Handsome? Did I raise the department’s average by a point?”

Consequently, whenever Ji Fengjing saw them dressed even remotely well, he’d shut them down before they could even ask: “Yes, yes, very handsome. Right, right, the department looks great. Mm-hmm, you’re amazing, you’ll definitely get a date today!”

Though he was never stingy with praise, this time, Ji Fengjing wasn’t being perfunctory. He truly thought Wen Xingchen looked handsome.

What he hadn’t expected was that his shout was even louder than he intended.

Not only did Wen Xingchen hear him, but every staff member nearby heard him too. They all turned to look at Ji Fengjing, their faces painted with gossip.

Ji Fengjing: “…” Wen Xingchen: “…Oh.”

Feeling awkward and fearing another accidental shout, Ji Fengjing leaned close to Wen Xingchen’s ear and whispered, “Brother Shen, it’s too noisy on the plane. We should put our headsets on. Let’s talk when we land.”

Wen Xingchen’s face remained expressionless, his tone faint. “Okay.”

No one noticed the flush on his ears spreading all the way down his neck.

The helicopter landed at the museum first. Wen Xingchen’s manager, Zhou Kang, was already waiting there with a lawyer.

Given Wen Xingchen’s heavy filming schedule over the next few days, Zhou Kang wanted to save him the extra trip. He brought the lawyer along to finalize all the donation paperwork tonight.

Seeing how busy they were, Ji Fengjing said his goodbyes to Wen Xingchen, planning to head home first.

Wen Xingchen glanced at him. “I’ll have someone drive you.”

Ji Fengjing waved him off. “No need, it’s not far from my place. A taxi will be fast.”

Before Wen Xingchen could argue, he turned and left.

Once clear of the museum, Ji Fengjing didn’t even hail a cab. He ran. This distance was a cakewalk for him—hardly comparable to his training runs.

Shortly after getting home, his phone chimed with a WeChat notification. It was from Wen Xingchen, whom he had just added tonight.

[Wen Xingchen: Home?]

His display name was just his real name, and his profile picture was the default system icon. The whole account radiated a “middle-aged man” energy.

Ji Fengjing smiled and replied that he’d just walked in.

[Wen Xingchen: Oh.]

Ji Fengjing stared at that “Oh” and rubbed his nose. He used to like using that word too—to mean “I know,” “Okay,” or “Understood.”

But then his colleagues at the department, like Mouse, would nag him daily: “Don’t you know that every ‘Oh’ or ‘Heh’ carries a hidden ‘I’m being perfunctory’ or ‘I don’t care’?”

Ji Fengjing hadn’t thought much of it then, but once he accepted that logic, the word started to look suspicious everywhere. He chuckled, figuring Wen Xingchen probably didn’t know about those modern connotations.

[Ji Fengjing: Mm-hmm.]

After replying, he put his phone down to take a shower. When he came out, he had over a dozen new messages.

He thought it might be Wen Xingchen, but it was Pei Yihan—Wen Xingchen’s assistant and cousin.

“So bored! Why isn’t my cousin back yet? I’ve been home for half an hour!” “I see your lights are on! Brother, are you home?”

Because Ji Fengjing hadn’t replied while showering, the kid had spammed a bunch of emojis and started playing the pity card.

“Wooo, why are you ignoring me? I’m telling you, you better stay on my good side, I have so many of my cousin’s signed posters!” “Let’s play a game! You play, right? Honor of Kings or PUBG?” “Weird, what’s going on tonight? I messaged my other bros and no one is replying. Is my phone broken?”

Just as Ji Fengjing was about to reply, he heard someone shouting loudly from the balcony of the neighboring villa.

“Hey! Seriously! This phone definitely has a problem! I’m not getting a single reply!”

Pei Yihan clearly hadn’t noticed Ji Fengjing. He was clutching his phone in frustration. “Why would I lie to you! This phone can’t receive messages! Piece of junk!”

A heartless laugh came through the phone’s speaker. “If you aren’t getting replies, maybe people just aren’t replying to you.”

“Impossible!” Pei Yihan jumped. “Do you know who I am? I’m popular! I have so many friends! There’s no way no one is replying! The phone you sent me is broken. Look, I sent you messages and you didn’t reply to a single one, so you clearly aren’t getting them!”

“Look at the time, I was in the shower! I didn’t reply yet,” the person on the other end said, exasperated. “Pei Yihan, you little idiot.”

“You’re the idiot!” Pei Yihan hung up in a huff and flopped onto a beanbag on the balcony, looking aggrieved.

Ji Fengjing didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but with his heightened senses and Pei Yihan’s volume, it was unavoidable. He smiled helplessly and sent a reply.

[Ji Fengjing: Sorry, I was in the shower and didn’t see the messages.]

On the balcony, Pei Yihan instantly scrambled up. Seeing the reply, he muttered, “Why is everyone showering…”

His fingers flew across the screen. [Pei Yihan: Fine. (╯▽╰) I forgive you!] [Pei Yihan: Brother, let’s play! I’m so bored!]

Ji Fengjing was about to refuse, as he didn’t play much, but another message popped up.

[Pei Yihan: My cousin isn’t back, I’m scared being alone!] [Ji Fengjing: Why are you scared?] [Pei Yihan: Sigh, I grew up in a house full of people, servants, nannies…] [Pei Yihan: In families like ours, we’re rarely home alone! (无奈.JPG)] [Pei Yihan: Shen-ge doesn’t like outsiders, so there’s no live-in nanny here. But usually, he’s around.] [Pei Yihan: You get it! Only you could understand me! (哭唧唧.JPG)]

After all, in his eyes, they were both “rich heirs” working hard to carve out their own paths away from their families! The little assistant’s eyes glowed with solidarity.

Ji Fengjing: “???” Understand what? “Families like ours”? His background was nothing like Pei Yihan’s.

But seeing the kid acting so pitiful—having turned on every single light in the three-story villa because he was afraid of the dark—Ji Fengjing’s military-bred instinct to serve the people kicked in. He gave in.

[Ji Fengjing: Sure, what are we playing?] [Pei Yihan: Honor of Kings! Big brother will carry you!]

Ji Fengjing had heard of the game. Under Pei Yihan’s guidance, he downloaded it, cleared the tutorial, and stumbled his way into the Rift. Pei Yihan even hopped on a smurf account to carry him.

Several times, when Ji Fengjing was on the brink of death, Pei Yihan’s roar echoed through the headset.

“Run! Use Sprint! Sprint!” “You dummy! Why did you walk right into their Ultimate!” “You’re dying! Get in the grass!”

In the middle of the chaos, a WeChat message flickered at the top of the screen.

[Wen Xingchen: Asleep?]

Ji Fengjing said into the headset, “Wait, I’m replying to a message.”

Pei Yihan roared, “You’re about to die!”

Ji Fengjing hurriedly typed back. [Ji Fengjing: Mm-hmm, I’m asleep.] [Wen Xingchen: Okay, goodnight.] [Ji Fengjing: Goodnight.]

He switched back to the game. Great, he was already a corpse.

Amused and slightly frustrated, he checked Wen Xingchen’s profile again. Since he’d already said goodnight, he decided not to send anything else.

On the other end, Wen Xingchen stared at the word “Goodnight.” He clicked into Ji Fengjing’s Moments and saw they were filled with shares of his own movies. A satisfied curve touched his lips.

“Sweet dreams,” he whispered softly, as if the night breeze could carry the blessing.

12:30 AM.

Wen Xingchen entered the house. The lights were blazing. His little cousin was on the sofa, frantically tapping his phone.

Seeing Wen Xingchen, Pei Yihan didn’t even look up. “Go, go, go! They’re coming, let’s farm a bit first.”

Wen Xingchen frowned. “Still gaming?”

Pei Yihan looked up briefly. “Oh, you’re back.”

“Time for bed.”

“Yeah, almost. Ji Fengjing, let’s finish this round and call it. My cousin is home.”

Wen Xingchen’s footsteps halted. He whipped his head around. “Who are you playing with?”

“Ji Fengjing. The bro next door.”

Wen Xingchen pursed his lips. “Didn’t he go to sleep?”

“No,” Pei Yihan said. “We’ve been playing this whole time.”

Ji Fengjing: “…” Hearing the conversation through the headset, Ji Fengjing felt a wave of awkwardness.

Wen Xingchen said, “He told me he was asleep.”

Pei Yihan replied with a serious face, “Don’t you know? When young people say ‘I’m sleeping,’ it actually means ‘Okay, I’m going to do my own thing now, you can disappear, stop bothering me.’”

Wen Xingchen: “…” Ji Fengjing: “…” Wait, it means that?

Wen Xingchen: “…Then, ‘Goodnight’?”

Pei Yihan sighed. “’Goodnight’ means: whether you see me in the Rift later or on any other social media, please ignore me. I have already ‘gone to bed,’ thank you.”

Wen Xingchen: “…” Ji Fengjing: “…”

Pei Yihan shook his head. “Sigh, Cousin, you really need to learn modern social etiquette. You’re… from a different era!”

Wen Xingchen was silent for a long time. Slowly, he took out his phone and sent a message to Ji Fengjing.

[Wen Xingchen: I didn’t hear anything just now.] [Wen Xingchen: Goodnight.]

Ji Fengjing: “…………”

Wait, no! I didn’t know “sleeping” and “goodnight” meant that either!