The Night’s Adventures

Chewing the gum, she tasted sweetness—the flavor of sugar, and also the flavor of her brother.

As for Qin An, he was still dumbfounded, or rather, completely petrified, his tongue forgotten and left hanging.

Qin Yage stared at her frozen brother. She was still in the innocent age of a young girl, though a bit precocious. Her knowledge of love and romance came only from those clichéd soap operas.

She had just done something incredible with her brother—something only couples were supposed to do. But her classmates often talked about bathing and sleeping with their siblings. So compared to that, this was nothing, right?

Yet watching her brother, who stood like a wooden dummy, she couldn’t help but feel a little angry.

They remained frozen on the sofa, feeling each other’s warmth, breathing in the hot air from each other’s mouths.

On the TV, two people stood on a dock, the setting sun painting a picturesque scene behind them.

“Maria, let’s break up!”

“Why? David, I don’t want to leave you. I’ll never leave you, even if I die.”

“Maria, look at me. I’m just a worker for your family. I have no money, no BMW, no mansion. I can’t even guarantee my next meal. I can’t let you suffer with me.”

“I don’t mind.”

“But…”

“No buts. As long as…”

Maria suddenly grabbed David’s neck and fiercely kissed him. A long, passionate kiss followed.

“Maria…”

“Don’t worry, David. Now even my mother can’t separate us.” Maria touched her belly and smirked slyly. “I have your child.”

“What?” David was thunderstruck. “Whose child is it?”

“Yours, of course! Didn’t we just kiss? That’s how you get a baby, right?”

Such naive girls were rare in this world. But Qin An had one right before him—a girl who stubbornly believed that kissing led to pregnancy.

Qin An sighed inwardly. This TV show couldn’t have timed itself worse. Was it trying to kill him?

Sure enough.

Qin Yage’s face first turned bright red, then slowly darkened to charcoal, and finally to a heap of black coal. Then she bared her little fangs, which he had seen bloodied countless times.

A wailing scream brought the birthday celebration to a close.

Qin Yage’s face was as red as blood. Leaning against her bedroom door, she could still feel her heart pounding violently.

The gum in her mouth still gave off sweetness. She couldn’t bring herself to spit it out, even though it was the source of all tonight’s trouble.

Her mind was a mess, the birthday excitement still lingering. She touched her belly, feeling as if she had gained some new responsibility, and resolved not to treat her child the way her mother had treated her.

As for Qin An?

He was kicked out. The reason was obvious. It was a bit cold tonight, so he had put on an extra jacket before leaving.

His sister was still in a rage. He dared not provoke her further, or he’d end up with more than just a bleeding shoulder.

Aunt Xia’s house was brightly lit—a cozy little cottage from the outside, but the sounds of scolding and fighting came from within.

“You run wild all day! What kind of girl are you? Coming home injured every day! How will you ever get married?”

“Shut up! It’s none of your business! I’m running away from home!”

“You wretched girl! If you dare step out, don’t ever come back!”

“I’d rather die than come back!”

The Little Tyrant shed a few tears as she ran out the door, but when she saw Qin An standing at the intersection, she forced them back.

“Xiao Anzi, why are you wandering the streets so late?” The Little Tyrant was all smiles, no trace of her earlier sorrow.

“Your Majesty, I’ve been kicked out. Could it be that Your Majesty has been expelled by the Empress Dowager?”

“Hmph, I’m just inspecting in disguise. Come on, I’ll take you somewhere nice.”

“Where?”

Without giving Qin An a chance to resist, the Little Tyrant pulled him along. After much prodding, she finally let slip that they were going to the arcade.

The arcade was in a somewhat secluded alley, filled with the sounds of cats meowing.

PC games hadn’t really taken off yet, so arcades were the main entertainment for kids. The most popular games were King of Fighters, Metal Slug, and Three Kingdoms.

As for hacking, Qin An was quite skilled, having studied under Edmund the Wild King of Doyle, Milock the Hacker King, and Alcatel the Melee King. He had also become a master marksman, developing incredible gun skills. But he had little exposure to games, his strongest memory being first-person shooters like CrossFire.

When Qin An and the Little Tyrant entered the arcade, the air suddenly froze. Something was off.

“Hey, you actually came! Let’s go three hundred rounds!” A high school student with a cigarette in his mouth shouted.

The Little Tyrant didn’t say a word. She sat down quietly, grabbed the joystick, and the match was quickly decided. The guy was clearly outmatched, losing 2-0. He sat there in disbelief, his cigarette dropping.

“Come on! Take on all comers!”

That was truly domineering.

Then the Little Tyrant fought everyone, one after another. After a dozen rounds, her hand speed didn’t slow down at all; in fact, she seemed to be getting stronger.

“Whew—” Standing at the arcade entrance, the Little Tyrant let out a deep breath and did some warm-up exercises.

“So tired.” She twisted her neck, producing a cracking sound.

“I didn’t know you were so good at games too.” Qin An found it hilarious watching her trounce those thirty- or forty-year-old uncles. When they lost, their faces were a hundred times worse than bitter melon.

“Of course! Who do you think I am? I’m the one who can clear a game with just one coin.” The Little Tyrant’s voice sounded a bit more ethereal than usual, without the usual forced roughness.

Qin An was startled. He looked at her profile, then shook his head with a smile. If she were a girl, how could she hang out with me all day?

It was just that Xiao Anzi’s emotional intelligence was too low, and women’s hearts were beyond his guess. This was a beautiful misunderstanding, and when it was resolved, the process would be beautiful too.

Qin An and the Little Tyrant stood on the streets of Nan’an in the year 2000. Low-rise buildings, shabby streets, white tile walls gleaming under the moonlight. There was none of the later bustling noise of lights and traffic, only tranquility.

They held cans of cola given by the arcade owner and strolled through a few alleys. Passing East Street, they suddenly saw a black Audi parked by the roadside. A woman in a black dress suit was leaning over, vomiting by the car. The exquisitely tailored outfit hugged her curves, her long, fair legs under the skirt, and the roundness of her chest provoked endless fantasies.

“She’s really beautiful, much prettier than my mom.” The Little Tyrant smacked her lips.

“Yeah.”

From another alley a dozen meters ahead, a young man emerged. About 1.7 meters tall, wearing army-green shorts, flip-flops, a white vest slung over his shoulder, a cigarette dangling from his mouth, and a crew cut. He looked every bit a jobless thug.

The young man walked over without stopping. Qin An even noticed his hands trembling nervously. He was scared.

With his killer-honed, sharp eyes, Qin An immediately noticed the young man’s stiff gait, how he almost stumbled a few times.

Qin An’s gaze was like a torch. He examined the woman. She lifted her head, her face slightly flushed from alcohol. And that face—wasn’t it Tong Tong, the deputy director of the Nan’an City Education Bureau?

Qin An had seen her on TV and at school award ceremonies. The Little Tyrant also recognized her.

A muffled cry came from ahead. Qin An only saw a pair of long, beautiful legs kicking frantically by the car, leaving shallow scratches on the ground with her high heels.

It seemed to be a narrow dead end.

Qin An nudged the Little Tyrant. “What do you think? Want to play the hero saving the damsel?”

The question was rhetorical. Seeing the Little Tyrant’s righteous indignation and the baseball bat she had somehow conjured, it was clear this justice-loving brat wouldn’t let this opportunity pass.

Qin An noticed some construction debris ahead. He hurried over and picked out two suitable stout wooden clubs, about half a meter long. Gripping them tightly, he and the Little Tyrant entered the alley. Holding these crude weapons, Qin An couldn’t help but miss his beloved Desert Eagles, Berettas, butterfly knives, and sniper rifles. Of course, a Japanese sword would be even better.