Chapter 9 – The Robot’s Weak Spot
Shao Zhan casually turned off all-chat. The early morning wind brushed against his face, carrying the lingering chill of the night, and suddenly, he was reminded of that night.
He stared quietly out the window, watching as the distant sky was slowly painted in shades of pale blue by the rising light. Waiting—for a boy who might never return.
“Old Pineapple knew you muted him and told me to thank you. He said the girl’s German and doesn’t speak a word of Chinese. If things work out, he’ll treat us to a sailor’s stew.” Tangyuan rubbed his cheeks. “Doesn’t sound too promising if you ask me.”
Still, he was genuinely happy for his friend. After wandering aimlessly for so many years, the old playboy was finally serious about chasing someone.
“Time really waits for no one, huh? Feels like in the blink of an eye, we’ve all hit the legal marriage age.”
Honestly, whether it was Germany or France, it didn’t matter. As long as you knew where that person was, your heart could be at peace.
Back then, Shao Zhan had turned all of Jiangling upside down, searching for him, yet that person had vanished as if he had never existed.
And now, just like before, he had suddenly reappeared before him—only to slip away through his fingers once again.
Maybe, Shao Zhan thought, there really was no fate between them.
As the plane took off, he gazed at the fading moon in the sky, wondering—was that person also looking up at the same moonlight?
…
Yang Sa withdrew his gaze from the window and glanced at the game screen. In German, he said, “No, that’s not how you do it.”
The pale green eyes in front of him rolled ever so slightly, and an Adam’s apple bobbed. “My Chinese proficiency is Level 6. And I scored very high.”
“This has nothing to do with language.” Yang Sa adjusted his friend’s fingers onto the hotkeys. “First, place a marker on the map. Then, press F to parachute—I said mark the location first, not jump immediately!”
The green eyes widened in panic, and a string of fluent Chinese curses burst from his mouth. “Motherf—! This is some bullsh—… Sa, what the hell do I do now?”
“Jump,” Yang Sa sighed, pressing his fingers to his temple. “Just make sure your teammates follow you.”
“But… where are my teammates?” The green-eyed man pursed his lips into a thin line.
Yang Sa pointed at the bright marker on the screen. “Chinese?”
“Yeah. He saw my photos on Facebook and messaged me first, said he could help boost my rank.” Max buried his face in his hands. “Holy crap, this parachuting is intense—I’m afraid of heights!”
Yang Sa shook his head, about to return to moon-gazing, when suddenly, a large hand grabbed onto him tightly.
“Don’t go! Teach me how to play!”
“Didn’t you already make plans with him?”
“Yeah, I did.” Max squirmed awkwardly. “But… he thinks I don’t speak Chinese.”
“Just say you learned Chinese to play games with him. Pretend to be a foreigner,” Yang Sa suggested to the actual foreigner.
“But…” Max fidgeted even more. “He thinks I’m a girl. If I talk, he’ll know the truth.”
“Didn’t he see your photo?”
“The one I uploaded was…” Max squeezed his hands between his legs, searching for a sense of security that didn’t exist. “It was your Halloween cross-dressing photo…”
“Ah—okay, okay, I was wrong! Ow, ow—my neck! My neck’s gonna break—!”
Max struggled to get up from the floor, his clear green eyes fixed on his friend’s movements at the computer. “What are you doing?”
“Logging out.” Yang Sa replied. Was he seriously expected to play using his own cross-dressing account?
With a stern face, he continued operating the computer. “Why didn’t you use your own cross-dressing account?”
“You lost rock-paper-scissors on Halloween.” Max rubbed his chin, still shaken. “Don’t quit! I haven’t played a match yet, and losing points right now would be fatal.”
“New accounts are easy to rank up.” Yang Sa comforted him in a cold, indifferent tone.
A storm brewed in Max’s pale green eyes as he mentally calculated the weight difference between himself and Yang Sa. Gritting his teeth, he suddenly lunged forward, using a burst of momentum to seize control of the computer. He grabbed the mouse and started clicking frantically.
“Are you… rebelling?” Yang Sa pressed a sore spot on his forehead where Max had crashed into him, torn between laughter and frustration.
The lanky Max curled up in the corner of the chair, pretending to focus on the game. His eyes shifted carefully to the very edge of their sockets, cautiously observing his friend for any sudden counterattack.
Yang Sa realized that with just the slightest lift of his hand, the towering Max would flinch in fear.
He tilted his head helplessly, watching his friend from a distance. “Enough already. How many years ago was our last fight?”
Max lifted his bangs with three fingers, revealing a faint scar on his forehead. With deliberate slowness, he began, “As of now, it is 3:33 AM Beijing time. This morning, I plan to eat three vegetable buns, three fried dough sticks, and drink three bowls of douzhi…”
“Alright, alright.” Yang Sa pressed his palm down as if to settle the situation. “Finish this match, and don’t team up with that guy again.”
“Understood!” Max bounced in place excitedly.
“Also, take down the photo from Facebook. Don’t spread it any further—”
Yang Sa’s face darkened as if he wanted to say more, but before he could, Max raised three fingers and placed them by his ear in a silent oath. Seeing this, Yang Sa fell silent.
Meanwhile, Max, seated at the computer, had an expression of satisfaction, as if his scheme had succeeded. The fight from three years ago was his trump card—it never failed to suppress Yang Sa’s momentum. It had worked every single time.
Defeated, Yang Sa leaned against the windowsill. Under the moonlight, his side profile appeared even more delicate and cool, his long lashes casting fine shadows beneath his eyes, blending seamlessly with the faint blue veins on his skin.
Max, still in the middle of the match, kept sneaking glances at Yang Sa while playing. “Hey… hey…”
He called out twice but got no response. Frustrated, he reached out and gave his friend a push. “Hey!”
Yang Sa turned slightly. “What is it?” His expression was calm, his features soft, like the moon sinking into morning dust.
“This—this part, how do I play it?” Max asked loudly, seeking help.
Truthfully, he really didn’t know how to play the game. But he exaggerated his panic on purpose. “What do I do? Hurry, come teach me! What’s going on? My character won’t move—come take a look! Quick!”
Yang Sa strolled over at a leisurely pace. The moment he saw the screen, he couldn’t hold back his laughter. “You’re stuck… literally riding the wall.”
“Yeah, and I can’t move at all!” Max’s fingers flew across the keyboard, as if he were a martial arts master who had been honing his skills for years. He unleashed one combo after another, but the result was just his character twitching wildly—while the coordinates remained unchanged.
“Try shifting side to side, then crouch.” Yang Sa suggested, his tone carrying a mix of amusement and exasperation.
“I did!” Max’s eyes widened as he roared in frustration. “It doesn’t work!”
“No, I meant move your in-game soldier, not… yourself.” Yang Sa pinched the bridge of his nose with one hand, covering his eyes as if he couldn’t bear to watch.
“But he won’t move!” Max stomped his foot in frustration in front of the screen.
Unable to watch any longer, Yang Sa tapped the keyboard twice, and finally, Max’s character managed to free itself from its awkward position.
“Ugh, I pressed those keys before! Why didn’t they work for me?” Anxious beyond reason, Max had started chewing on his fingernails.
Yang Sa swatted his hand away, patiently demonstrating each shortcut key. When he was done, he pushed the keyboard back. “Got it now?”
“Yeah.” Max nodded seriously.
In the next second, his character got stuck on the wall again.
The difference this time? He had already learned how to rescue himself. Repeating Yang Sa’s previous steps, he successfully broke free.
However, just as he landed, the screen flashed with a burst of green blood mist.
“Ahh! Someone’s shooting me! Someone’s shooting me! What do I do? What do I do?!”
Yang Sa sat frozen in shock.
This was the first time in his life he had ever witnessed such a disaster unfold.
The enemy—a harmless, low-level AI bot—was mechanically firing away, while Max frantically sprinted in circles around a short wall.
And in one unfortunate misstep, he ran straight into the bot’s backside.
“Brother—why are you running?! Just shoot!”
“How do I fight?!” Max was so anxious that he started sweating.
“You don’t have a gun?” Yang Sa finally realized he had overlooked something crucial. “If you don’t have a gun, use your fists! Punch him to death, and then you’ll have everything you need.”
Just as Max was about to ask how to throw a punch, a few gunshots rang out. The AI bot collapsed instantly.
From inside a nearby house, a fully armed player in a bright yellow dress emerged and ran straight toward Max without saying a word. Max shrieked in terror.
“Why are you screaming?” Yang Sa said. “That’s your teammate. Look at the top-right corner.”
“Oh.” Max patted his flat chest, trying to calm himself down. “Hey, why is there so much tr*sh on the ground?”
“That’s loot. Your teammate dropped it for you. Pick it up.” Yang Sa instructed.
Finally, he couldn’t stand the mess anymore. He shoved the flustered Max aside and took control, quickly grabbing the weapons.
Just then, a patient male voice came through the speakers:
“Miss, don’t be scared! It’s me. I dropped that loot for you. Ah, you don’t understand what I’m saying, do you? Press F to pick up, press F!”
Once Max’s character was fully equipped, the voice continued encouragingly:
“Miss, you’re amazing! You learned so quickly. Good, very good!”
Yang Sa checked the voice chat settings and saw that the guy pretending to be a girl had muted his microphone in advance.
“Hehe.” Max grinned sheepishly. “I didn’t want to blow my cover.”
“Alright, you’re geared up now.” Yang Sa said. “Go on, take over.”
“Ah, no, no!” Max waved his long hands in the air. “You play, you play! That was too intense—my heart can’t take it. I need some heart medicine to calm down!”
Yang Sa scratched his head in confusion. “Are you serious? Should I just quit then?”
“No, no, no!” Max dropped to one knee, clutching Yang Sa’s leg with both hands and shaking it desperately. “Please, finish this match for me! I’m begging you!”
Yang Sa reclaimed the mouse, exhaling a simple yet effective response: “Get lost.”
But Max had no intention of leaving. He was determined to learn by watching up close—practical experience was the best way to improve.
Yang Sa could barely tolerate having a grown man kneeling beside him, but he was too lazy to argue. So, he endured it.
Meanwhile, Max was struggling to hold back his laughter. He knew Yang Sa wouldn’t actually do anything to him.
Ever since they were kids, other children always avoided Yang Sa. At first, it was because of his different skin tone, and later, it was due to his cold and distant personality.
But not Max. He had faced the challenge head-on.
At first, it was all about making pocket money from his dad—two Pfennigs if he got Yang Sa to say a word, five if he made him smile.
To put it bluntly, their entire friendship was built on financial transactions.