The 24 Game

Zhou Suirong ran away from home at fourteen, unable to bear his stepfather’s brutal beatings. In his first act of defiance, he had struck the man on the head with an empty kettle. Feeling he could no longer live under that roof, he had fled in a panic, wearing nothing but a pair of slippers.

He arrived in City A alone and destitute. Before high school officially began, he had to sleep on the streets, enduring a period of wandering and wretched poverty. Looking back, he spent far less time with his mother than he did apart from her.

Zhou Suirong and Fang Qingzhou were similar in that both had grown up in broken, fractured, and turbulent home environments. The stark difference was that Fang Qingzhou had long ago abandoned all unrealistic fantasies. When her mother tried to reach out to mend their relationship, she had rejected her with a cold, heart-chilling severity.

She did not want to see her parents, having built new lives, playing the part of a warm and harmonious family; she did not want to see them grow into capable parents after making such grievous mistakes; she did not want any form of compensation or apology from them, and she especially did not want to participate in their new lives as an outsider.

Maintaining a distance that was neither too close nor too far was, in her eyes, the ideal state.

Zhou Suirong, however, excelled at self-deception. He was obsessed with constructing false care from others and found it all too easy to immerse himself in it. He would rather list countless absurd reasons to alleviate the pain of his abandonment than let go of the longing for a complete family. For this, he would squander his sincere affection, even daring to offer his heart to someone as emotionally distant and unapproachable as Fang Qingzhou.

He was the type easily hurt, easily discarded after being trifled with.

"You probably don't know this," Zhou Suirong couldn't help but confide. "Actually, I was quite pathetic back then. At the end of the first semester of my freshman year of high school, when the school went on winter break, I secretly went back to see her once."

"She was out buying groceries for the New Year with my younger brother. She was holding his hand, her face glowing with joy. I had never seen her look so radiant—her eyes were so bright, her expression so vivid. I stood about ten feet away, watching her, following behind. She didn't notice me until she had finished her shopping and was about to head home."

Zhou Suirong could now recount this humiliating memory with an air of indifference, as if he had truly forged a heart of stone, enough to remain unmoved by it.

"Her reaction wasn't surprise; it was fear and panic. She grabbed her son and quickened her pace to walk past me, pretending she hadn't seen me... I felt so ridiculous."

The bright sunset outside the car window cast an orange halo against his profile, softening his features. His clenched jaw and pale knuckles were hidden within the afterglow that had set half the sky ablaze.

With deep, tranquil eyes, Zhou Suirong smiled and said, "At home, I used to do almost all the chores. When I booked the ticket, I thought that even if it wasn't out of familial love, she might at least be slightly happy to see me, if only because she didn't want to lose a hardworking laborer. I even planned how I would decline when she invited me in for a visit. It turned out to be nothing more than my own wishful thinking. My existence brought her endless trouble and annoyance. I was a burden she dreamed of shedding."

The stiff, forced smile on his face looked no different from weeping in Fang Qingzhou’s eyes. Yet, with her limited vocabulary, she couldn't offer him any fitting comfort; she couldn't find a single word.

"She’s changed so much since I went back this time. In my memory, she was always stunning even without makeup, but I didn't expect her to age. She was sitting downstairs in the complex with her husband, watching her granddaughter. Her husband was the one who initiated the conversation; only then did she timidly call my name. After that, I think I just left—I don't really remember." Zhou Suirong exhaled, his expression returning to normal. "I had clearly made up my mind not to go back and court humiliation again."

Ignoring his last sentence, Fang Qingzhou spoke up loudly, "That time when you were fourteen, after you returned to City A, we spent the New Year together in the Sanyao building."

Zhou Suirong’s breathing hitched. It took a long time for him to find his voice. "How did you know?"

"Of course I knew," Fang Qingzhou said proudly. "I don't have the flaw of being forgetful."

The nanny at Fang Qingzhou's house had taken leave during the Spring Festival, so she often went to the Sanyao cafeteria for meals. That day, bored, she had stood behind Zhou Suirong, watching him play games all night.

"I thought you wouldn't remember me, or that you thought I was just some weird kid addicted to the internet." A hint of joy bloomed on Zhou Suirong’s face, but he quickly frowned, his intuition kicking in. "Wait, that’s not right, Senior Fang. When I met you in college, you clearly pretended it was our first time meeting."

Fang Qingzhou felt no shame; instead, she was smug about having fooled him. "Well?"

She reasoned, "My mentor taught me never to expose the past failures of someone striving to improve, as it makes both parties uncomfortable. I assumed you wouldn't want others to know about your struggles. While it wasn't your fault, one cannot deny that there are many people in this society who favor the rich and despise the poor; they might have deliberately made things difficult for you because of your financial constraints."

"It doesn't matter, I don't care," the words tumbled out of Zhou Suirong like clear, joyful droplets of water. "I was so nervous back then. I wasn't good at the game and died so many times, constantly worried you’d call me a noob. But you watched silently for three hours."

Fang Qingzhou said, "I know."

Zhou Suirong couldn't tell if he was startled or delighted. "You knew that too?!"

Fang Qingzhou pointed out his riddled performance: "Because your hand on the mouse was constantly cramping, your posture was too rigid, and you kept gasping for air. Every time you lost, your breathing grew heavy. Besides, no one sits in front of a computer for three hours without ever turning their head, classmate."

Zhou Suirong called her name with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "Fang Qingzhou! Were you watching me play games?"

"I was."

Zhou Suirong hit the nail on the head: "Were you treating me like a game?"

"How could that be?" Fang Qingzhou insisted. "I just thought you were interesting and wanted to know why you were so nervous when I stood behind you."

Zhou Suirong’s eyes sparkled with brilliance, though he complained, "You’re so annoying, Fang Qingzhou. Why do you remember these useless things?"

Fang Qingzhou said, "I bought you a set of clothes and told you it was a New Year's gift from Sanyao, but actually, I bought it for you. Because I thought you needed it."

Zhou Suirong’s lips curled upward. "Really? I thought you just got bored and walked away."

The building was filled with stifling heat; Fang Qingzhou wore only a short-sleeved shirt, while Zhou Suirong still had on the jacket he’d arrived in. Halfway through the game, he kept tugging at his inner collar to vent the heat. His base layer was soaked in sweat, but because it wasn't presentable, he endured it without taking it off. Had Fang Qingzhou not been there, he could have gone outside to catch a breeze.

Zhou Suirong: "I still have those clothes."

"At midnight, you said 'Happy New Year' to me. Your throat was so dry, it sounded like stones grinding. I thought, this person has such a rough voice, like an eighty-year-old." Fang Qingzhou knew every detail by heart, skipping only the small interlude in between.

Zhou Suirong said with hidden meaning, "You left out one thing, didn't you? While I went to change my clothes, you used my character to play, died several times, and even quit mid-match, which got me reported by my teammates and led to my account being banned for seven days."

Fang Qingzhou kept her mouth shut, looking innocent.

This detailed description made Zhou Suirong feel as if he were reliving the past. A pool of numbing warmth welled up in his chest, surging like a tide, washing over the previous heartbreak and marking his memories with a new, indelible label.

Time seemed to have fast-forwarded. Before Zhou Suirong realized it, the car had arrived at the hotel parking lot. He reached for his phone, but Fang Qingzhou beat him to it.

Zhou Suirong said sternly, "What are you doing? Stealing?"

His phone had several popular games downloaded, which he played whenever he had a spare moment—a habit formed back then.

Fang Qingzhou opened one of them and said without looking up, "I’m checking something."

She only had a superficial understanding of the game, knowing where the store was and how to make purchases. As Zhou Suirong led her toward the hotel elevator, Fang Qingzhou spent all the resources in his account on the gacha pool.

Zhou Suirong glanced at the screen from time to time, noticing her luck was exceptionally bad. While they waited for the elevator in the lobby, a hotel staff member walked by, greeted them softly, and couldn't help but sneak a peek at her drawing process.

Fang Qingzhou pulled a pile of junk, nearly filling up the inventory. Seeing her continue to spend money, Zhou Suirong couldn't help but say, "If you can't get anything, maybe stop for now. It’ll just get more frustrating; try again later."

Fang Qingzhou looked up at him, her finger skillfully tapping 'purchase' again. "It’s almost at the pity threshold."

After the new transaction, she handed the phone over. Zhou Suirong didn't take it, instead guiding her into the elevator with his arm around her shoulders. He lowered his gaze and said, "If it’s almost at the pity threshold, why give it to me? Keep playing."

Fang Qingzhou grabbed one of his fingers and tapped the screen. A tangled red light flashed across the screen, followed by the item reveal.

The pity pull was a dud. But Fang Qingzhou didn't know that.

Satisfied, she showed him her "accomplishment," her brows arched with bravado and self-satisfaction. "How about that? The good luck I passed on to you."

The staff member lowered their head, struggling to suppress a laugh, but the expression was clearly reflected in the elevator door.

Zhou Suirong had nothing to say; he could only watch her with a smile in his eyes. Just then, the elevator chimed; they had arrived at their floor. He led Fang Qingzhou out, his focus drifting.

He stopped at the door of Fang Qingzhou’s room. Blocked by him, she looked up, bewildered. Her mind whirred, and she intuitively sensed the vulnerability he was masking with his awkwardness.

Fang Qingzhou shoved the phone back into his pocket, reached out to hug him, and rested her face against his shoulder, rubbing gently. Her nose and lips brushed against his skin, leaving a warm, damp sensation.

Zhou Suirong pressed his hand against her shoulder, his heartbeat quickening instinctively. A heat spread from his skin into his veins, and his hands felt glued to her; he couldn't bring himself to push her away.

"I know," Fang Qingzhou said, ruining the mood. "You’re touched."

"Fang Qingzhou," Zhou Suirong had to remind her, "you were using my phone and spending my money."