Chapter 10

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Chapter 9 | 🖕 Contents 🖕 | Chapter 11

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Translator: Silvery

PR: Decadence

The moment he sends this, Yu Sheng freezes up for two seconds.

When a person is too tired, their brain functions do indeed get messed up.

Sitting on this message for a stretch of time, he is just pondering whether or not to feign losing connection and leave when the other side replies.

It’s rather interesting.

The mouse which has already clicked down on the quit button stops.

White Silver Substitute is quite slow when he messages him. Some time passes before yet another message pops up.

It’s a bit similar to school. It’s a gathering of people under the same roof with all accommodations provided by them. Apparently, it’s for us to make friends or something like that.

We don’t have to attend classes, so it’s quite relaxing. It’s all fun and games.

The one I participated in last time even required us to form a musical. According to them, it’s for the sake of nurturing our artistic talents. Everyone had to come up with something to perform onstage.

If there’s anything, it’d be that the organizers were a bit too much. I told them I can play the pipe organ. They told me to get lost.

……

Seeing the stream of messages come one after another, Yu Sheng’s mouth turns up.

He adjusts himself in his seat with a grip on his armrest, and he types:

You mean the sort which requires a space three houses big and five storeys tall?

White Silver Substitute remains very petulant:

There were many fine arts.

The Ring of Poison has begun to shrink. Yu Sheng barely pays it any mind, continuing to fix his eyes on the line after line of incoming messages.

The other must still be busy filling up those forms. His messages come after an interval each time and do so in bits and pieces. The things he talks about are all the most random little things.

They are so mundane in fact, most people wouldn’t even care about them. Yet, he meticulously details them. Bit by bit, those broken fragments are put together, dabbing colour onto the image.

It’s so goddamn compelling.

While Yu Sheng takes in all of this, he subconsciously relaxes little by little.

Having said more than enough to fill the screen, White Silver Substitute finally closes his war with those forms. The pace at which he types visibly speeds up:

Friend, we’ve been chatting for some time. Shall we go back to settling this match?

Like hell they are.

The Ring of Poison has already shrunk till it’s all but gone.

Yu Sheng had placed Steam on full screen and totally didn’t take a look at the game. Rubbing his neck, he is just about to open a new game when his mouse halts.

The Divine Concentric Circles* have come down to the 2nd loop, and it is encircling the haystack right where they’re hiding.

(*Divine Concentric Circles: I assume there is more than one Ring of Poison then.)

The number of survivors is now down to only 2, and White Silver Substitute is still left with a skin of blood. Teetering on his feet, he looks just as surprised and rises to his feet, dancing and twirling around ridiculously.

Peering at the screen for a bit, Yu Sheng crosses his arms and gradually sits back up.

He has never held much faith in many things, but strangely enough, in this moment of time, he can’t help but be a little superstitious.

The Ring of Poison is about to close in on them. White Silver Substitute has been smashed by him for so many rounds and has a game experience of precisely zero. Yet despite that, he doesn’t seem the slightest least disheartened, even merrily sending him:

Friend, why don’t we stay this way? Just like this, without moving, let’s see who will be the divine son chosen by fate…

Yu Sheng can’t help but chuckle. He pulls the keyboard closer:

No need for that. Not anymore.

He downs a Molotov Cocktail* by himself. Looking on as the screen fades to grey, he drops his gaze mildly and goes on to type.

(*Molotov Cocktail. Aka. Bottle Bomb)

I wish you the best of luck. Have a luxurious feast (game) tonight.

White Silver Substitute plops down in a stupor with said feast. While he is still dumbstruck and savoring his first taste of sweet victory in a long time, Yu Sheng has already gone offline and logged out of the game.

Yu Sheng pulls off his earphones, switching tabs to click into the site for checking scores. He reconfirms it again.

He sits quietly before his computer for a long time before he shifts his mouse and clicks into the Summer Camp’s invitation link.

“Sheng Gē, don’t be mad. I’m just asking…”

Duan Lei woke up too early and is so worn, he can’t even keep his eyes open. He stifles the urge to yawn for dear life:

“You’ve changed your phone number… is it ’cause you wanted to bid a farewell to your past self, turn over a new leaf, and head towards a rich and vibrant new life?”

Although he does not know what rank has befallen Yu Sheng due to his jinx, going by Yu Sheng’s reaction, Duan Lei assumes he must have accidentally broken into the city’s top 100.

He’d initially still thought Yu Sheng changed his phone number to avoid registering for the Summer Camp. Consequently, upon receiving Yu Sheng’s message in the middle of the night, he still thought he must have slept himself dumb and re-affirmed it for many times over. Only then did he know Yu Sheng intends to go to the Summer Camp for real.

“Shut it.”

Yu Sheng blocks out his eyes with a hand, bearing a splitting headache:

“I’ll make you start school early if you open your mouth again.”

Duan Lei instantly zips his mouth shut.

Once again, Yu Sheng didn’t have a good rest and woke up early in the morning. He presses down hard on his pulsing temples.

In retrospect, now that he’s awake, he thinks he must have been duped by a pyramid scheme* last night.

(*biz sales tactics)

To think he actually stayed up for a good part of the night filling in that stack of messed-up forms.

The Summer Camp’s venue is the neighbouring city’s N University. It takes place over the course of 1 month, 05 days.

Yu Sheng had simply intended to give Duan Lei a notice on his location. This was to avoid going missing for a month and returning to find the entire Central Third buzzing with legends about him going on a distant journey to some distant land.

In the end, Duan Lei’s first reaction when he processed it was to start wailing, completely unable to bear with the thought of him leaving. Ignoring everything he said, he insisted on meeting up with him at the bus stop, seeing him through the 10 miles of distance, and personally escorting him to the Summer Camp’s gates.

Due to this, Yu Sheng, who could have originally slept until 7 am, was forced to wake up a full 5 minutes before that.

The bus travels shakily and slowly, filled with a bit of suffocating heat.

Yu Sheng slumps against the back of the seat with an arm strewn over his eyes in a light sleep. Unconditionally, the message from yesterday surfaces in his mind suddenly.

The truth is, neither performing arts nor event organization holds any allure for him.

His Primary and Middle Schools were all private schools that were the top of of top in the Province. Due to his striking appearance, he was forced to be a part of every event. He’d already lost count of the times he returned carrying some ridiculous event’s trophy and souvenirs.

It’s all entirely meaningless.

The hand on his lap shifts. It slowly curls into a fist, his fingers brushing past the denim of his pants.

He was just too bored.

The time he spent standing at that juncture of the street had indeed been too long. Regardless of the path that is presented to him, he most likely would still have taken it, unable to hold himself back.

After nearly half an hour of bumpy journey, the bus finally draws to a slow stop.

The threat of starting school early obviously bears immense weight for Duan Lei. Throughout the whole journey, Duan Lei miraculously kept his mouth shut and only springs to his feet now, in high spirits as he races out of the bus with just a couple of steps.

This stop is at N University’s West Entrance. The moment one alights, they can see the extremely grandiose gates of the school. Carved on the red marble is the esteemed name of said school in gold. Strong and elegant, compelling and refined, it seems to bear tonnes of rich history.

Duan Lei is beyond excited. Without stopping for a beat, he pulls on Yu Sheng and plays charades with him:

“MMH! MMMPHMFH–!”

Yu Sheng’s migraine intensifies.

“Enough. Speak. I didn’t lay a curse on you.”

Yu Sheng pats his shoulder:

“The first 300 will have to start school early and go for tuition. I’m in the first 300, but I’ve got to attend this Summer Camp.”

Duan Lei startles and doesn’t process at all:

“What do you mean?”

Yu Sheng yawns. Not unkind enough to leave him fretting for the days to come, he rubs his sleep-sore neck and cuts straight to the point:

“Meaning, all ranks will be brought forward by 1.”

301st Ranker Duan Lei: “……”

While Lost-His-Ideal-World-Duan Lei is chipped, Yu Sheng raises his head and looks at the school gates. Wiping his face, he pulls himself together and steps forward to register his name and exam number.

N University is a school established in 1985. All their school facilities are well-put together. It’s not a school Central Third can compare themselves to, what with their tiny campus being littered with the most random of things.

Duan Lei simply couldn’t stamp down his curiosity in the beginning and wanted to come catch some fun despite all that he said. Now that he had that bombshell dropped upon him, his frustrations seem to have drained out of him completely, leaving him on his last legs, drifting lifelessly after him.

Yu Sheng pulls out the simplified map on his phone. After comparing it to the building before him, he turns around the corner of the Admin Building he was facing and struts towards the massive auditorium under the empty space of the tall covered bridge.

The auditorium had been set up for this. The moment he steps in, the laidback and comfortable air of the University seems to sap away entirely.

Yu Sheng’s steps come to a halt.

He had come in a nick of time, but nearly everyone seems to have arrived already. Each carrying a bulky bag pack filled to the brim, they are no different from your average high schooler. Before the teacher arrives, they’re even putting their heads together and murmuring under their breaths.

“Shouldn’t the auxiliary line be inserted like this? I think this might be a simpler solution. You can do it with 3 lines…”

“Shut your trap if you don’t know how to do it. 4 auxiliary lines can immediately solve the first two parts of the problem. It can even solve half of the third one. What use do you have for your 3 auxiliary lines exactly?”

“Don’t you think there’s a problem with the grammar in this question? They seem to use all past, future, and continuous tenses together?”

“There’s an issue with your compound right here. The aldehyde group can’t join it at all – Testing 9 subjects back-to-back must have seriously been tough on you liberal arts students. No. That’s right. There can’t be a reaction here. Even if you throw a bucket of catalyst in there, it would still be useless…”

Duan Lei is so shook, he is pulled back from death’s doors. He backs up two steps in horror:

“Shen—Sheng Gē.”

Yu Sheng stands rooted in the same spot.

Duan Lei stammers:

“I-I better go back for early tuition first. I’m going…”

He turns tail and flees, traitorously dumping Yu Sheng at the door without the slightest sense of kinship. Within a split second of him bolting, not even his shadow can be seen.

Yu Sheng looks up, staring numbly at the cramp clutter of mottos stuck to the wall: “IF STUDYING CAN’T KILL, MAKE YOU SURE STUDY TO DEATH!”, “+1 POINT, FINISH OFF A THOUSAND RIVALS!”, “DON’T LAG LIKE A GNU. BE FIERCE AS A MAD DOG!”

Last night, after White Silver Substitute painted the image of the happy life at the Summer Camp, he had vowed earnestly in his last message.

Trust me, my friend. I’ve gone through plenty of Summer Camps. I’m not lying to you.

Yu Sheng inhales, deep and sharp. He raises a hand and slowly presses down on his forehead.

Like hell he will.

******

Next Time on DTTM!

Chapter 11: <This little student is quite shy.>

The author has something to say:

Sheng Gē: That fucking old man is downright nasty.

“Trust Me”.

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Chapter 9 | 🖕 Contents 🖕 | Chapter 11

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