Chapter 5: A Minor Contest at the Medicine Market

Several days passed in a blur, and Li Xin was tormented with regret, nearly driven to despair.

The miraculous and mysterious "King of Games" game offered him not the slightest clue. Since the day the NPC died and his attribute panel vanished, no matter what method he tried, he could not summon it again.

Li Xin was filled with doubts and confusion.

“Perhaps it’s all just a trick? Or maybe some hacker’s virus software,” he mused.

“Heh, just kidding—after all, the visuals appeared, so how could it be fake?” Li Xin mocked himself, braving the blazing sun as he lounged comfortably in a grand armchair in the courtyard.

It was the height of summer, unbearably hot. The sunlight seemed to carry flames, burning the skin painfully; those who didn’t take care found their skin cracked and peeling. Thankfully, his late father, Li Ming, had wisely planted a grapevine in the yard. After years of growth, it flourished, offering a rare oasis of coolness in midsummer.

Nibbling at ripe, delicious grapes, Li Xin buried himself in thought, recalling every word spoken by the NPC before its disappearance, striving to find some hidden clue.

Suddenly, the phone rang. It was Zhang He, the apprentice from the front shop. The cooling herbal tea and powdered medicine for cracked skin were almost gone, and the doctors were all busy. Li Xin, as the proprietor, needed to make a trip himself to restock.

After gathering his things, Li Xin set out, driving straight to the Yaolan Spring Market in the northern suburbs. His parents’ ledger recorded that the most important supplier for the pharmacy was located there. Lately, Li Xin had visited often, and he was becoming familiar with the vendors.

An hour later, Li Xin arrived at his destination, eagerly heading for the Bai Family Medicinal Garden, only to return as disappointed as fallen leaves swept by autumn wind. The items he needed had sold out quickly; demand was high among all the pharmacies, and the Bai Family’s stock was nearly depleted. The boss and several workers had gone north to replenish supplies.

The items in Li Xin’s bag would barely last two days, he estimated.

Left with no choice, Li Xin returned the goods to his car and continued to wander around the sprawling thirty-acre Yaolan Spring Market. The market was full of traditional medicine suppliers; the variety and quality dazzled the eye. Whether one could purchase genuine goods at the best price depended entirely on skill.

In the past, Li Xin would have been utterly clueless—a complete outsider. But after managing the pharmacy for days and learning from his parents’ notes, he was now a somewhat knowledgeable buyer.

After two hours, Li Xin had finally procured enough supplies for a week. Though a bit more expensive than the Bai Family’s, he was relieved not to have bought any counterfeit medicines.

As he prepared to return to the parking lot, a commotion ahead caught his attention.

A crowd had gathered, three layers deep, cheering and sighing—apparently, there was a competition going on.

A contest? As the nine-time champion “Gun King,” Li Xin’s interest was piqued; he had always felt an inexplicable obsession and passion for competitions.

He squeezed through and was startled by what he saw.

In front of a pharmacy, two children, about thirteen or fourteen years old, each sat at an old LCD computer, engrossed in playing CF. Their clothes were somewhat worn and bore the strong scent of medicinal herbs—it was clear they were children of out-of-town vendors.

The computers weren’t high-end; the low frame rate caused the game to lag occasionally. Yet both played with intense focus, their eyes sharp and fierce.

It was a simple AK40 deathmatch on the Transport Ship map. The older boy held the advantage, leading 27 to 22. But the younger one refused to concede, manipulating the keyboard and mouse deftly, darting and jumping across the map with agility, constantly firing at the opponent’s “Arctic Fox” character.

The gap was closing bit by bit.

Most spectators were adults, usually too busy to play games. But watching the live competition was entertaining; every headshot made them excited, as if they were truly on a dangerous battlefield.

Li Xin couldn’t help but smile wryly. The children were skilled, but in his eyes, their techniques were insignificant. Even in his current diminished state, he was still leagues above ordinary players.

Having lost interest, Li Xin watched for a while and then turned to leave—the pharmacy was waiting for his delivery. But after a few steps, he heard a loud wail. The younger child had lost despite his best efforts and was heartbroken.

Some cheered for the victor, others comforted the loser.

Li Xin suddenly felt a pang, remembering himself ten years ago. He had been just this age, thinking himself accomplished, and challenged the weekly champion at the Internet café—only to suffer a crushing defeat and cry at home for days.

Empathy stirred within him, and Li Xin felt sympathy for the little boy. He walked over, knelt down, and comforted him with a smile. “There, there. Uncle will tell you—crying after losing is not something to be ashamed of. If you can learn from your defeat and persevere, one day you’ll win. When you cry then, it will be tears of pride.”

The boy seemed to understand, nodding earnestly.

As the crowd dispersed, Li Xin comforted the boy and asked, “When did you start playing?”

“Uncle, I’ve played CF for two years. I admire Gun King Dawn so much. My goal is to challenge him and become the greatest Gun King myself.”

“Dawn?” Li Xin smiled wryly. “I heard Dawn retired because of health issues. I’m afraid you won’t ever get to compete with him.”

“That’s impossible!” the boy interrupted Li Xin decisively. “I watched him play in the WCA World Finals just recently. He can’t have retired!”

“Hmph! Zhang Yufan, you fool. I told you Dawn retired, and you still don’t believe it. Dawn is finished. Now it’s time for Dirty Water to rule.” The older boy interjected contemptuously, looking down on Zhang Yufan.

Zhang Yufan bristled, unwilling to accept this painful truth. “Li Lai, you’re talking nonsense. In my heart, Dawn is the eternal king!”

“Self-deceiving. What difference is there between you and that washed-up Dawn?” Li Lai, though young, saw things clearly and spoke sharply.

Zhang Yufan was momentarily lost for words, his vocabulary failing him. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, full of grievance.

Li Xin felt a deep ache and guilt. He had secretly retired, yet still remained the focal point of these young CF players’ disputes. It was a mark of honor, but far more, it was an overwhelming sense of remorse. He could not protect his own fans, nor did he have the courage to acknowledge his identity.

How tragic.

Seeing the boys’ emotions flare, Li Xin sighed and resolved to lend a hand.

“Zhang Yufan, don’t cry. I’m a Dawn fan too. Why don’t I play on your behalf, and show him what Dawn’s fans are capable of?”

“Alright!” Little Zhang Yufan instantly broke into a radiant smile.

Li Lai was taken aback, casting a disdainful look. “Uncle, you’re so old—are you really going to bully kids who’ve only played for a couple years?”

“Bully? Hardly. I see you’re strong, so I just want to compete. You can see I’m a businessman, I don’t get to play much, and I’m not that skilled. Unless… are you afraid?”

“Afraid? Dirty Water’s fans never say afraid! Let’s do it!” Despite his youth, Li Lai had spirit and courage.

Li Xin smiled lightly. “Let’s begin.”

The two sat at the computer desk, donned their headphones, and opened a password-protected 1V1 room.

As he entered the game, Li Xin was flooded with emotions. The former king, reduced to competing with a child—no doubt a laughable sight.

But then, he was stunned.

As the Navy SEAL picked up the AK47 Jasmine, Li Xin’s vision transformed dramatically.

The long-lost mechanical, colorful LCD attribute panel appeared before him, once again.