The Artist’s Gambit

The cold wind howled, the night was hazy, and snowflakes began to drift down over Jiang City.

These flakes resembled willow catkins dancing in the wind, or perhaps ethereal cloud garments.

Few pedestrians were visible on the neon-lit streets; only a scattering of vehicles moved to and fro, making the city feel exceptionally desolate.

From the far end of the road, a taxi approached, eventually pulling to a stop at a bus station.

“Beautiful, we’ve arrived,” the taxi driver said, turning to address the passenger in the back.

“Mm, understood,” came a slightly gender-neutral voice from inside the car.

The voice sounded like a girl’s, yet its tone wasn’t quite feminine; it was soft, cool, and carried a hint of detached calm.

Approximately thirty seconds later, a figure clad in a black trench coat emerged from the taxi.

Illuminated by the streetlights, it appeared to be a short-haired girl, tall and slender, easily measuring at least 1.75 meters.

After stepping out, the girl gazed up at the falling snowflakes, a hint of worry clouding their expression.

“Is it snowing? Ah!” the girl sighed, a wistful expression on their face.

Oh, a correction: this ‘girl’ was, in fact, a man, albeit one with a rather delicate and feminine appearance.

Anyone unfamiliar with him could easily mistake him for a woman based solely on his looks.

The young man’s name was Ye Qingyun, twenty-six years old, and a concept artist at a design company in Jiang City.

After a brief moment of reflection, Ye Qingyun walked along the street to the entrance of a residential complex.

Just as he was about to enter, something sparked in his mind, prompting him to detour into the guardhouse; a package had arrived for him.

“Hello, I’m Ye Qingyun. It seems a package for me was delivered here today, wasn’t it?” he inquired of the staff member immediately upon entering the guardhouse.

The security guard, who had been sorting packages, glanced up at Ye Qingyun.

At first sight, a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, clearly finding Ye Qingyun exceptionally beautiful.

“Oh, Miss Ye, yes, yes, it’s right here!” he exclaimed, quickly flipping through the records.

He soon located Ye Qingyun’s package: a medium-sized, exquisitely wrapped box, its contents unknown.

Ye Qingyun accepted the box, gave a slight nod, and then offered a polite clarification.

“Mm, thank you. But, buddy, you’ve got it wrong. I’m a guy,” Ye Qingyun explained with a touch of helplessness.

The young man froze.

Seeing his reaction, Ye Qingyun knew he was utterly bewildered.

He offered a wry smile, then turned and departed.

His gender had been consistently misunderstood since childhood.

There was simply no helping it; with his appearance, avoiding such confusion was a challenge.

Ye Qingyun had a younger sister named Ye Qingxue.

They were twins, specifically monozygotic (identical) heterosexual twins—a phenomenon that, by all accounts, should not occur.

Yet, he and his sister were indeed male and female.

When the siblings were born, the hospital staff were astonished by their unique case, though thankfully, both were perfectly healthy with no physical defects.

Aside from their genders, they were virtually identical, even sharing the same physical characteristics.

Genetics itself is a complex subject, and medicine has yet to fully unravel its mysteries.

Consequently, Ye Qingyun had been the subject of countless jokes since childhood, particularly through middle and high school, though primary school was less severe.

Over time, however, he had gradually grown indifferent to it; after all, he couldn’t control what others chose to say.

Clutching the box, Ye Qingyun returned to his apartment.

The moment he opened the door, a bespectacled young man emerged from the bathroom.

“Yo, second brother, you’re back! What’s that you’re holding?” the bespectacled man asked with a grin.

This rather cheerful-looking young man was Qin Yun, Ye Qingyun’s university roommate and the ‘boss’ of their dorm.

After graduating from university, they had both come to Jiang City to find work, temporarily living together to save on rent and reduce expenses.

In truth, Ye Qingyun wasn’t accustomed to living with others; upon entering university, he had been mistaken by Qin Yun and the others due to his appearance.

However, after several years of living together, they had grown used to it.

“Get lost! This is the game equipment for ‘Jianghu’, didn’t you know?” Ye Qingyun retorted, rolling his eyes.

The mention of ‘Jianghu’ game equipment instantly piqued Qin Yun’s interest.

As young men, they were certainly no strangers to gaming.

“Huh? So this is the ‘Jianghu’ gaming gear! Oh, right, I remember now—the official open beta starts tomorrow. How could I forget?” Qin Yun exclaimed, slapping his forehead in annoyance.

“It’s fine. If you order tonight, it’ll be delivered the day after tomorrow. But do you even have time to play?” Ye Qingyun questioned.

The mention of time immediately brought a sense of helplessness to Qin Yun.

In this era, how could a working professional possibly find time for games?

“Forget it, I’ll just buy it first and worry later. Besides, if I don’t have time to play, do you?” Qin Yun countered.

When the question was turned on him, Ye Qingyun fell silent.

He carried the box and walked towards his room, and Qin Yun, seeing his expression, seemed to guess something, quickly following after him.

“Hey, you rascal, you didn’t quit your job, did you?”

In this world, if anyone truly understood Ye Qingyun, it wasn’t his family, but his three closest university friends.

They had lived, eaten, and experienced everything together for four years of college; it was impossible not to know each other’s personalities intimately.

Ye Qingyun didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he walked into his room, placed the box on his computer desk, and then nodded.

“Yes, I resigned.”

The reason Ye Qingyun had returned so late was primarily to complete his final tasks.

Tomorrow, he wouldn’t have to go to work.

Qin Yun stared at Ye Qingyun for a moment, then let out a sigh.

“Sigh! Alright, but without a job, what will you do now?”

Qin Yun understood Ye Qingyun’s feelings; ever since they met in university, Ye Qingyun had always carried a somewhat melancholic air.

“Don’t worry, I’m not an idiot. Aside from the money I send home, my savings are enough that I won’t have to worry about food or drink for years. Plus, I’ve already figured out a way to earn money,” Ye Qingyun said, patting the game equipment on the desk with a knowing, half-smile.

Qin Yun quickly grasped his meaning.

“No way, you’re planning to make money through gaming?” Qin Yun asked in astonishment.

“Mm, that’s right. Otherwise, why do you think I resigned today?” Ye Qingyun replied with a faint smile.

The reason Ye Qingyun cared so much about ‘Jianghu’ was because he was one of the game’s concept artists.

Consequently, he understood the game far better than an average player.

The game equipment itself wasn’t particularly complex, consisting of just three items: an account card, a data box, and a virtual reality helmet.

The most captivating aspect of this game was its control method.

Unlike previous games that used a keyboard, this one was operated directly by human consciousness and thought, a vastly different experience.

Furthermore, a full day in the game world equated to merely two hours in reality, ensuring it wouldn’t disrupt daily life.

“Alright, so you can play like that, huh? Well, you go ahead and try it out. I’ll decide later,” Qin Yun conceded.

After hearing Ye Qingyun’s explanation, Qin Yun’s initial worries immediately vanished.

He knew Ye Qingyun wasn’t joking.

“Mm, I’ll check the official website first,” Ye Qingyun said, nodding with a smile.

Qin Yun didn’t waste any more words.

He had work tomorrow and naturally needed to sleep, so he returned to his room.