SES Chapter 101 Part 1

Chapter 101

That moment of hesitation from Luo Ren stretched into a full day and night.

In the end, he still couldn’t figure things out. But he knew that sitting there and overthinking wouldn’t change a thing. Better to actually do something.

So he finally pushed the door open.

He saw Mu Dai’s back, and on the screen before her, firelight exploding, flesh and blood flying in the game.

Luo Ren took two steps closer. Mu Dai’s back stiffened, then she pulled off her headphones.

See? Even if her eyes were locked on chaos and her ears full of noise, instinct from years of training still made her aware.

Their eyes met, like strangers looking at each other for the first time.

Luo Ren knew his own expression must be stiff, his gaze distant. He wanted to act better, softer—but he couldn’t. He could fake it with anyone else, but not with her.

“Feeling any better?”

“You know everything?”

They spoke at the same time. Finally, Luo Ren nodded. “Yeah. I know.”

Silence fell.

“I’ll play a round with you,” Luo Ren said. “This game has a co-op mode?”

He lowered his head, looking for the controls. Mu Dai said, “It’s hard. Will two people really last longer than one?”

“They will,” he said.

Restart. Fresh run. Luo Ren didn’t look at Mu Dai, only at the game. Her avatar was a blonde, long-legged woman in a tight tank top and combat gear—nimble, sharp, moving side by side with him, rolling, leaping, shooting, dodging.

First, they were running through city streets. Then the levels escalated: shadowy jungles, icy crypts. The monsters multiplied, growing grotesque and unnaturally strong. Eventually, the avatars started to take damage—scratches, bites, health bars draining away.

Her blonde fighter got caught in the tentacles of a zombie beast. Luo Ren turned his gun, firing at the monster.

Another zombie lunged at him, biting, clawing. He didn’t even react, just kept his sights locked on that one direction, firing nonstop.

Mu Dai pulled off her headphones, frowned at him, and couldn’t help blurting, “Hey!”

He said nothing. His health ran out, and his character fell. Across the screen, the blonde girl was dragged into the dark by the monster, her screams fading into the void.

Game over. Another coin for the arcade.

Luo Ren took off his headphones. “Ever made it this far before?”

“No.”

“See? With another player, you lasted longer.”

“But we both died.”

“Everyone dies eventually,” Luo Ren said, setting the headphones back on the gun mount.

Then he asked, “Dr. He talked to you already?”

“Mm.”

“He didn’t keep anything from you?”

“He showed me the recording.” She smiled.

The first time since they met, he’d seen her smile. Not like Xiaokoudai’s—hers held no joy. Just facial muscles moving in unison.

“Which one do you like?” she asked.

That question was hard. For a moment, Luo Ren almost said, Can’t you just go back to being Xiaokoudai?

But he swallowed it down.

“We’re adults,” he said. “So let’s be honest. Who I like—does it really matter to you anymore?”

“Not much.”

“Didn’t think so.”

—

From the balcony on the second floor of the club, Huo Zihong watched Luo Ren drive away. When they said goodbye, his expression had been calm. “I’m heading back to Lijiang. If you need help, or if anything comes up with Mu Dai, call me.”

Huo Zihong had a hunch the meeting hadn’t gone well. “Luo Ren, try not to dwell on it.”

Luo Ren smiled. “You think I’m the type to brood? If I were, I wouldn’t have survived this long.”

Back in her room, Huo Zihong sighed. Luo Ren was an outsider. But Mu Dai—Mu Dai was family.

Mu Dai lay on the floor, practicing a horizontal split, chin propped on her hands, her gaze calm and soft.

Huo Zihong sat beside her, running a hand over her hair. She remembered when she first adopted her, how fragile a child’s skull felt beneath her palm. Now her hair was thick, her skull solid. They called her sick, but she still had her own kind of strength.

“Hong Yi,” Mu Dai said, “Luo Ren said he knows everything. Standing there in front of him, I felt like I’d been stripped bare.”

Huo Zihong’s tears slipped down, heavy drops hitting the floor.

“Mu Dai… I don’t know how to teach you. Truth is, I didn’t do well myself. Dr. He told me—I may have adopted you, but I didn’t give you the care you needed emotionally. That’s partly why you’re like this. It’s my fault…”

Mu Dai sighed, lowered her head, as if she wanted to stare straight through the floorboards.

She said, “Luo Ren likes to say we’re adults, so let’s speak honestly.”

“Hong Yi, honestly—I don’t think it’s your fault. You adopted me, cared for me, and kept me from freezing, starving, or dying on the street. You gave me a chance to study, to read, to understand things. I’ve read reports—some people abuse adopted kids, some predators adopt just to get close. You already shielded me from countless dangers. If I’d grown up with my birth mother, maybe I’d have been on the streets long ago. You gave me another life. You don’t owe me anything—not even my mental health.”

Huo Zihong froze. That… didn’t sound like Mu Dai at all.

She felt at a loss, like watching a child grow up overnight. It didn’t feel real.

Mu Dai added, “Not long ago, I ran into Wenwen’s mother in Lijiang.”

Zhang Shu had mentioned it, vaguely, without details. “She… she’s still angry?”