AUS Chapter 30: Then Let Me Protect Liu Jiang

I didn’t believe it.

If Liu Jiang had truly returned, he wouldn’t avoid seeing me, let alone hide and observe me.

He could be angry, he could be disappointed in me, he could hate me. He could scold me or yell at me however he wanted if he saw me. As long as he was willing to see me, I believed I could appease him, I believed I could win him back.

So why wouldn’t you see me, Liu Jiang?

So why couldn’t we meet?

I tossed and turned all night, tormented by a mix of anxiety and hesitation, barely sleeping.

In my dreams, I was constantly on the move. The road ahead would sometimes be a wide highway, sometimes a sheer cliff face. Sometimes I was in the city, sometimes at school. In the dream, I didn’t know where I was, but I knew that if I crossed these obstacles, I would see Liu Jiang.

So I climbed all night, finally waking up in bed, head and feet reversed.

I arrived at the company an hour earlier than usual. The first thing I did was to find Haozi, who had just woken up in the relief tent. He emerged, wrapped in a blanket, sleepy-eyed and about to wash up, and saw me waiting at the entrance in a windbreaker.

He greeted me, asking, “So early?”

I nodded in response and then gestured for him to lend me a few minutes of his time.

After five minutes of explanation, Haozi finally exclaimed, “You’re looking for a car?!”

I quickly signaled him to lower his voice. Fortunately, we were standing at the edge of the tent area, and the rumbling of the generators nearby drowned out most of our conversation.

He lowered his voice and asked, “What do you need a car for?”

“I want to find Liu Jiang, but I’m not sure where he is now. He might still be in Liancheng.” I looked down at the dirt on my Martin boots, then looked up at him. “Or do you know where I can buy gasoline on the black market?”

We were standing near the open-air dining area in the tent zone, each holding a cup of coffee, looking like we were just casually chatting. But I knew that what we were discussing might involve smuggling laws in the new order.

After the apocalypse, industrial goods like gasoline became highly sought after; ordinary people couldn’t privately own them.

Haozi was a little nervous. He took a sip of coffee to clear his throat, then advised me, “First of all, I don’t recommend you do this.”

Besides major cities like Beijing, order was gradually being restored in smaller surrounding cities. But in the apocalypse, where both resources and humanity were scarce, it was hard to say what the situation was like outside the capital.

“Even the relief teams need to be equipped with weapons and manpower when they leave the city. If you go out alone, you’re basically asking to die.”

Haozi continued to present the facts, “The GPS positioning system is currently paralyzed, and the vehicles that were stuck on the overpasses during the apocalypse haven’t been cleared yet. Even if you want to leave the city, using a car isn’t realistic.”

I thought for a moment and asked him, “Do you have any other suggestions?”

He continued to shake his head. “I suggest you don’t leave the city.”

Seeing that I didn’t respond, he added, “If Liu Jiang were here, he definitely wouldn’t want to see you go off and die.”

I was speechless. He was right. Leaving the city alone was no different from suicide.

Haozi saw that something was bothering me and pulled me to sit on a plastic chair in the open-air dining area. He asked me, “What’s gotten into you?”

He then specifically served me some compressed biscuit paste, a special provision for the relief team. I had no appetite and refused the paste, telling him the truth.

“Among the old things you gave me, there was a letter Liu Jiang left for me.” I didn’t dare look Haozi in the eye. “Anyway, Liu Jiang left me a message that makes me think he’s still around.”

He’s still around.

I deliberately chose not to say “He’s still alive.” I had considered this possibility more than once, asking myself repeatedly—was Liu Jiang still alive?

Many people lost their lives in the apocalyptic disaster, and humans have an instinct to seek out groups. If he were still alive, I would definitely hear from him, sooner or later.

I didn’t dare think about it anymore, taking a deep breath to suppress the rising sadness.

Haozi saw my distress. He patted my shoulder meaningfully and said, “Since things are like this, why don’t you wait and see?”

I arrived at the office an hour later than usual. During that time, Haozi kept chatting with me, trying to cheer me up.

He was even urged by the supervisor a few times because of this. I felt guilty and decided to invite him to the company cafeteria for dinner more often.

After my mood improved slightly, I stood in the office, looking outside. It was a gloomy and rainy day, not the hazy orange-red kind, but like the weather before the apocalypse, especially like Liancheng.

From my vantage point, I could see that only a few lights remained on in the once brightly lit skyscrapers. Not far away, rows of vehicles were still stuck on the overpass: private cars, ambulances, police cars, school buses. Now they were all empty. The people who once occupied them had long since disappeared. Perhaps, like me, they were still struggling to survive, or perhaps they were already peacefully at rest.

I turned to face the dimly lit interior, my thoughts shifting in another direction.

Perhaps he was watching me?

For the entire morning, I searched the office for any possible surveillance or listening devices.

My major in college was computer science. I only had a rudimentary understanding of these mechanical and electronic devices, but it was enough for me to find them. Starting from the equipment room, I checked every possible wire, even lifting the floor mats. After all that effort, I found nothing.

The receptionist came upstairs to get water. Seeing the scattered floor mats in the office, she was startled, thinking there had been a burglary. I hurriedly explained that I was cleaning. The young woman looked skeptical and went downstairs nervously.

So I spent some more time putting everything back in place.

Having found nothing, my thoughts turned to a third possibility—since things were like this, I might as well wait and see.

I ate a tasteless self-heating meal, added a vitamin C effervescent tablet to my camping mug, and listened to the soft fizz of the bubbles. I was reminded of the sound of the waves at Liancheng’s coastal plaza.

In the afternoon, I returned to the testing room for the Relive plan.

Turning off the lights, with only the faint light filtering through the blinds, I picked up the simulation helmet again.

This was the only place where I could see Liu Jiang again.

After the wave of dizziness, I opened my eyes and saw the ceiling of Liu Jiang’s room. Beneath me was the blanket on his bed, and the air was filled with his scent.

I took a deep breath and then rolled over, my face against the blanket. Leaning closer to smell it, the blanket itself didn’t have any particular scent. Liu Jiang’s scent permeated the air, everywhere.

I sat up.

The me in the Relive plan had just finished a performance and, still buzzing with excitement, had come to Liu Jiang’s house. He was washing up in the bathroom, and I was waiting for him in his room.

Damn, this was a dream.

Or rather, this was originally a dream, a dream that accompanied me as I grew up, a dream where I was free. But even though I was free in the dream, I couldn’t truly act as I pleased, like a master of the world. So this dream was more like reality, like the reality I should have had in my youth.

I heard the bathroom door open. Liu Jiang must have finished washing up. After the shuffling sound of slippers, the bedroom door opened.

He had washed his hair. His silver-white hair was now damp and dark gray. A towel hung around his neck. He was wearing a simple white t-shirt and black shorts, almost too simple for him.

He looked much calmer after showering and asked, “Do you want to take a shower? The water is still hot.”

He turned to change his slippers, switching from the plastic slippers he wore in the bathroom and hallway to the cotton slippers he used in his bedroom—Liu Jiang’s room, though messy, was at least clean. Upon entering, you could smell a fragrance unique to him, not dirty, not unpleasant.

The me in the Relive plan had only waited for him for ten minutes. Outside the Relive plan, I had searched for him for almost an entire apocalypse.

Liu Jiang bent down to straighten his slippers. When he stood up, I suddenly hugged him from behind.

I had missed this feeling for so long.

My arms wrapped around him from under his armpits. I could feel his warm and vibrant youthful body through his clothes, warm, solid, as if it would never change.

He froze, not speaking, not turning around, letting me hold him.

Before the atmosphere turned too intimate, I suddenly shouted, “Crow takes a plane!”

After shouting, I tried to swing Liu Jiang to the side.

Haha, didn’t see that coming, did you?

Actually, my current posture, with my arms wrapped around him, was very conducive to exerting force. But I don’t know if it was because I was still too young, or because Liu Jiang had grown too quickly during this period, my surprise attack failed.

Liu Jiang only stumbled to the left, then turned to look at me with a surprised and slightly hurt expression.

But his hurt expression only lasted for a second, and then he grabbed my arms, attempting to counterattack. But our strength and weight were about the same, so no matter how hard we tried, it was a stalemate.

So, this fight turned into a battle of moves. After our move names evolved from something resembling actual martial arts to lines from a certain cartoon about a talking, buck-toothed sponge, I finally called a stop to this farce.

I said, “I’m dying of heat. Let me take a shower.”

I heard Liu Jiang chuckle behind me. He tugged on the corner of my shirt for a moment before letting go. I put on the plastic slippers he had just worn and walked into the hallway.

His room and the bathroom were diagonally opposite each other. Opening the door, I faced a dark and deep hallway. Looking into the darkness, the smile on my face and the excitement in my mind faded away together.

Happiness was fleeting. I still had a mission.

I closed the bathroom door, took out my phone, and my consciousness was pulled upwards, returning to the lobby.

After Level 2-1 ended, my last conversation with the waiter was about where the “don’t wake me up” message came from. After getting the answer, I returned to reality.

Now, the waiter maintained the same courteous and composed demeanor as before I left. He stood behind the counter, impeccable from head to toe.

“Good evening,” he said. “Is there anything you need to ask?”

I waved my hand, indicating that there was no need to be so formal, walked to the reception desk, rested my hands on the counter, and spaced out for a while. Then I asked him, “Do you have a lounge here?”

Like the Overlook Hotel in The Shining, I guessed this place also had a lounge for banquets, and the waiter, like Lloyd the bartender, would pour me a glass of bourbon to calm me down.

Unexpectedly, there really was a lounge here, but the waiter wasn’t Lloyd and wouldn’t actually pour me, a physically underage person, a glass of alcohol.

Behind the wooden counter, lit only by a bar lamp, the waiter gracefully shook a cocktail shaker. Opening the lid, he poured me a glass of milk tea-colored liquid.

At first, I thought it was poorly made piña colada, but after taking a sip, I realized it was actually milk tea—and the overly sweet kind that Liu Jiang liked.

I looked at him with blurry eyes. The waiter clasped his hands in front of him, calmly awaiting my instructions.

After I finally managed to open my sugar-coated eyes, he slid a letter across the counter towards me.

I asked him, “What’s this?”

He replied, “The objective for the next level.”

The letter the waiter handed me was as formal as the hotel’s decor: a thick cardstock envelope sealed with a wax seal, much like a wedding invitation.

I suddenly felt that the quirky elements in this game had a deliberate purpose. For example, he could have just sent me the objective as a text message, letting me take out my phone in the simulation like usual, but he specifically chose to hand me a card while I was pretending to drink, as if we were at some high-class cocktail party, even though I was still wearing a school uniform and sneakers.

This personality of his was quite similar to someone.

I didn’t open it immediately, instead asking him, “What do you gain from doing all this?”

He said, “Nothing, but please don’t question the emotions of a program. We also appreciate beautiful things.”

Fair enough.

So, following his definition of “beautiful,” I used the letter opener on the desk to cut open the envelope and held the card in my hand.

The waiter didn’t react, adhering to his role.

I asked him, “What about love?”

Love is also a beautiful thing.

He tilted his head slightly. “Please repeat your question.”

“Witnessing our love, helping me achieve the happy ending of the game.” I swirled the milk tea in my glass, truly acting like a high-society wine connoisseur. “What’s the benefit? What’s the meaning of all this to you?”

Actually, I wasn’t sure what the meaning of playing this game was to me either. Would there be a reward at the end? Would someone jump out and congratulate me? Would that person be Liu Jiang?

Probably not.

The waiter understood my question and spread his white-gloved hands, offering a philosophical answer, “Everything has meaning in the end.”

So philosophical?

I had a feeling an artificially created program couldn’t say such things.

But my mind wasn’t functioning properly right now, so I didn’t delve deeper. I just looked down, picked up the envelope, and opened the letter.

Inside the envelope was a stiff card. The handwriting on it was elegant and powerful, introducing the objective for the next level:

“Level 2-2 clearance tip: Please protect him.”