An Evening of Reflection and Unexpected Connections

Huang Zhouyu had recommended a few light novels to me. Their titles were too long to recite, but they generally told stories of people who died unexpectedly, traveled to another world, and then thrived there.

While I was curious why these individuals achieved little in reality but became omnipotent in another world, I wasn’t familiar with the genre, so I refrained from complaining further.

I had watched many anime adapted from light novels. It always seemed that a male protagonist would gain a girl’s favor simply by helping her.

Was love in reality truly that casual? Yet, I could discern the basic logic: the male lead helps a girl, she incurs a debt of gratitude, a connection forms, their paths increasingly align, and eventually, they fall in love.

However, in some plots, the emotional transitions and progression were almost nonexistent. This made human emotions seem cheap and superficial.

Later on, character emotions were entirely neglected, with only plot development and advancement receiving attention. I found some of them unreadable.

****

Upon opening my computer, I suddenly discovered *Street Fighter 6* in my Steam library. There was no need to guess; my father must have bought it.

We shared an account, and he apparently played a few rounds every night after returning from social engagements.

It was only ten o’clock when I checked the time.

I decided to play *Resident Evil 9* for two hours before bed, aiming to clear the first chapter.

The dining table had been wiped clean, the dishes washed, and the windows and curtains tightly closed.

Nestled in my room with the light on, I finished my homework. All that remained was idle time.

How did others spend theirs? Did they read extracurricular books to broaden their minds and horizons, or did they study foreign languages and learn to drive to secure more options for the future?

Or perhaps they focused on the present, creating cherished memories with friends during this irreplaceable youth.

I might have felt a touch of envy.

They had goals that spurred them to effort, setting ideal states that allowed them to constantly change and progress.

I, however, had neither purpose nor ideals; I simply drifted along.

Consequently, I had no reason to change and no motivation to move forward.

People strove to make their lives diverse, yet society was not as rapidly changing as they imagined.

Some things never altered. People spent their entire lives yearning for it, only for it to ultimately betray all their efforts and devotion…

No.

It betrayed no one.

It had always been there, neither coming nor going; people simply chose to acknowledge it only at life’s end.

Did people seek immense wealth and to look down upon all others? That was not our desire, nor would we be permitted to achieve it.

Did people seek a simple, peaceful life, living out their natural lifespan? That barely qualified as a desire; we could not possibly stop there.

What we sought lay between change and stasis, between success and failure, between gaining and giving.

We had to acknowledge what we couldn’t achieve, yet also convince ourselves that we could, endlessly repeating certain actions and believing certain words until death.

This was our entire existence.

Thus, I embraced the ordinary.

I embraced these idle days.

I sincerely blessed this rotten, boring world.

****

I hadn’t been playing the game for long when my phone rang on the table. It was my mother calling.

“Hello?” I greeted first after answering the call.

“Ah, my son,” her familiar voice echoed in my ear. It seemed I hadn’t seen my mother in a long time; even hearing her voice now, I struggled to recall her face.

“Your father mentioned you’ve been spending a lot of money lately.”

Indeed, I had been spending more than usual in recent days.

“Do you have enough money?” my mother asked. “I already sent you your allowance via WeChat, plus an extra five hundred. Buy whatever you want.”

“Mm.”

I was never good at dealing with my mother. For some reason, every time she showed concern, my heart would churn.

The warmth of nestling in her embrace during my youth surged within me.

I remembered her chest, her breathing, and her hand repeatedly stroking my forehead.

Yes, I had grown up surrounded by my family’s companionship, gaze, and protection. I didn’t know how to describe it.

I simply felt a pang of nostalgia… followed by nothing but pain.

After that brief exchange, we both held our phones in silence. Neither of us knew what else to say.

“How have things been at school lately?” my mother asked, her tone unchanged. “I heard you’ve made a lot of friends?”

“Quite a few,” I replied. Two from class, plus one from the club — a total of three.

“That’s good, then. You must get along well with your classmates,” she always said.

“When I was studying, I was always focused on how to make a name for myself. I didn’t make many friends.”

“Later, in society, I couldn’t find anyone to help when I needed it, and I suffered many setbacks from not understanding social etiquette.”

“So, make sure to make plenty of friends during your unique school days.”

My mother had become a complete socialite. Having toiled in her industry for years, her mindset had transformed to align with society’s.

Now, when she looked back at her school days, all she saw were utilitarian aspects.

“Alright, Mom.”

Yet, this was all I could say in response. I never contradicted my parents, no matter what they said.

I had already given up on explaining my thoughts or offering new perspectives to them.

“Mm, good boy.”

I knew, deep down, that my mother wasn’t very good at being a mother, and my father wasn’t very good at being a father.

And I, from a young age, had been different from other children. I must have done something wrong, I thought, something that hurt them all.

It made them reluctant to come home, reluctant to see me.

Another silence fell. I knew my mother was distressed; she undoubtedly wanted to tell me more.

Yet, I had nothing much to say to her, and she, in turn, couldn’t find anything to say to me.

“Make sure to study hard, Yi Chang,” she called my name, and my heart twisted once more.

“A good education will help you avoid detours and spare you from the daily frustrations your father and I face outside.”

“You must live a better, happier life than us.”

As always, she could only express her care for me through these words. This was because she was left with nothing but societal pressures.

She knew she shouldn’t complain to her son, who was still studying. But if she didn’t, our conversation would simply cease.

“Finish your homework on time, don’t spend every day out with friends, and read more extracurricular books.”

“If you have any interests—dancing, singing, chess—you can tell your father and me. We can enroll you in those training classes; our family still has enough money for that.”

“Mm. You should also take better care of yourself and work fewer overtime hours.”

As mother and son, this was the only way we knew to care for each other, gently tormenting each other.

We deliberately prolonged the call for over ten minutes. Finally, I used the excuse of unfinished homework to hang up.

What happened to me after that? I continued playing the game, of course.

I didn’t possess enough wisdom to understand the world, but I at least understood society. This society didn’t preach fairness or equality.

My mother’s promise of a bright future through studying was impossible. Even if such a vision genuinely existed, it was described by those who were either unsuccessful or merely pretending to be.

I wouldn’t strive for it. I didn’t aspire to the life they described.

Whether it was achievable or not was irrelevant. Even if it were, I had no interest.

My mother’s call, however, still left my thoughts in disarray. I had forgotten the locations mentioned by NPCs in the game.

I couldn’t recall any uncollected items either. Yet, I continued playing.

Not achieving all accomplishments, collecting everything, or even missing some side quests wouldn’t significantly diminish the game’s enjoyment.

Though there was some regret, it was too late to reload a save now. I would just play as it went.

Then, my phone rang again. I felt like I had been using my phone more frequently lately.

Without pausing the game, I answered on speakerphone.

“Are you asleep, Yi Chang?”

I recognized the voice immediately as Yu Tianman’s.

“I usually go to bed at midnight,” I said. “Occasionally, it’s later. I generally only sleep seven hours a day, though. I don’t know why I can’t sleep longer.”

“What are you doing then? What’s that crackling sound?”

The game had just entered a tense and thrilling chase sequence. It involved various movements, dodging projectiles, and even turning back to shoot at the boss’s abilities.

The difficulty of the level prevented me from playing with ease, so the tapping of the controller was quite loud.

“Playing a game,” I stated curtly. My attention was entirely focused on the screen.

“Are you busy?” she asked.

“Almost done, I think.”

“Then I’ll wait for you.”

The chase sequence was brilliantly designed. The monster’s appearance alone was incredibly intimidating.

In the dark, twisted terrain, only faint flickers of fire offered light. While dodging the boss’s pursuit, I also had to use these flames to discern my direction.

During this phase, I couldn’t damage the boss. I could only rely on various obstacles to evade its abilities and occasionally shoot interactive objects to slow it down.

After failing three or four times, I had largely memorized the boss’s attack patterns and escape route. I finally passed the stage.

Reaching a save point, I pressed pause.

“Done playing?” the voice on the phone asked.

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” I said, turning off speakerphone and picking up my phone. I noticed the call had already lasted over ten minutes.

My skills weren’t quick enough, and Yu Tianman had waited a long time, filling me with a slight pang of apology. “So, is there something you needed?”

“What’s wrong? Can’t I call you if there’s nothing urgent?”

“Well, you can, but if there’s nothing, why call me?”

A silence fell on the other end of the line. Then came a heavy sigh.

“Yi Chang, what apps do you usually use to listen to music?” she asked. It seemed she wanted to change the subject.

“NetEase Cloud and QQ Music,” I replied. There were also some foreign music apps, but my mother had downloaded those, and I rarely used them.

“What genres do you listen to?”

“Instrumentals and white noise,” I said. I primarily listened to those two types. “For sleeping.”

“Don’t you listen to pop music or anime soundtracks?”

“I don’t know any good ones.”

I didn’t have many strong feelings about music. My mother, however, was quite sensitive to vocals and melodies, often sampling strange instruments.

I hadn’t inherited those traits, so I didn’t truly appreciate music. I simply found that listening to soothing songs helped calm my mind and allowed me to fall asleep faster.

“Then, let me recommend a song for you. Want to give it a listen?”

“Alright.”

Moments later, my WeChat received an invitation from Yu Tianman: [Share my headphones with you]. This appeared to be NetEase Cloud’s co-listening feature.

Although it was my first time using it, modern internet applications were designed for simplicity. Two taps were all it took to accept.

The song didn’t play, however. Was something wrong?

“Ah, this song is copyrighted,” Yu Tianman explained. “It seems both of us need to be premium members to listen together.”

“Is that so? Then there’s nothing we can do.” It looked like I would have to end the call early and go back to my game.

“No problem, I’ll send you a month of premium membership. Just accept it.”

‘This could be gifted?’ Without overthinking it, I accepted what she sent.

Then, the song began to play.

[When I first visited the Louvre,

There was nothing special about it.

My very own Mona Lisa,

I had already met long ago.]

It was a Japanese song, and it sounded somewhat familiar. It seemed to be from an anime, but I couldn’t recall which one at the moment.

Yu Tianman remained silent while the song played, even muting her microphone, presumably not to disturb my listening. However, I wasn’t paying much attention, my thoughts still preoccupied with the game.

I likely had enough money to buy new weapons now. However, the Chapter 1 boss shouldn’t be too difficult.

I decided to save my funds and update my weapons at the Chapter 2 store instead. Moreover, given the nature of this game series, powerful equipment could often be found through side quests and treasure chests in the mid to late game.

“So, how was it? Was it good?”

The song had finished without me realizing it. I didn’t have many thoughts, but I supposed it could be called pleasant.

It wasn’t noisy, and the vocals had a clear, refreshing quality. It seemed quite suitable for listening to while falling asleep.

“Mei Ruolan recommended this song to me,” Yu Tianman said. “She always says that listening to music helps dispel her worries.”

“Does she listen to music when she exercises, then?”

“She listens while studying, too.”

‘Is that so.’ ‘Mei Ruolan must indeed have a tough time normally.’

“Alright, the next one is this.”

‘Still more to listen to.’

She proceeded to share several more of her favorite songs. Interspersed with these were her thoughts and the stories behind how she discovered them.

Silently, I exited the game and shut down my computer.

My evening had been spent listening to music with Yu Tianman.