Chapter 53: The Wang Family Finds Relief

The matter concerning the Zhang family was particularly troublesome, leaving one at a loss as to where to begin. If it were something else—such as disputes, brawls, or cases of being falsely accused—Wang Xiaoqian could easily lend a hand. But this was Wang Huan recklessly spending money, and the only solution was to retrieve the sum that had been squandered.

To simply give them money? That would only wound their pride.

Had they been the sort who readily accepted help from others, Wang Xiaoqian would have arranged housing for them long ago. She cast an inquiring glance at Li Xin: What should we do?

Li Xin shook his head with a sigh, composed his words, and stepped forward. “Aunt Zhang, Uncle Wang, your predicament has two possible solutions. The first is to file a lawsuit. The law clearly states that it is illegal to provide online game purchases to those under eighteen. If you can prove Wang Huan’s age and your ignorance of the matter, you can seek legal redress.”

A lawsuit? The group looked at Li Xin, confusion written across their faces.

“Li Xin, is that feasible? Wouldn’t we risk losing?” Wang Xiaoqian asked.

“There’s a chance of success. Cases like this have been won in recent years,” Li Xin explained.

Just as hope began to flicker in their eyes, Li Xin dampened their spirits. “But I wouldn’t recommend this approach.”

“Why not?” Uncle Wang leapt to his feet, visibly agitated.

“The legal process is lengthy and expensive—neither of which you can afford. It’s even possible that the compensation won’t cover the legal fees,” Li Xin replied earnestly.

Wang Xiaoqian cast him a resentful glance; he was far too blunt for his own good. Couldn’t he have softened the blow at least a little? Yet, for all her frustration, Li Xin’s reasoning was irrefutable.

Li Xin gave Wang Xiaoqian an awkward smile, then, seeing the Zhang family’s spirits sag, continued, “There’s a second option: sell Wang Huan’s game account. Now that the equipment is valuable, the sooner you sell, the better. While there will be some loss, you can at least recover part of what was spent.”

“No!” Wang Huan refused abruptly, his face flushed with agitation. “I worked so hard to build that account.”

A sharp slap echoed through the room as Uncle Wang struck him, his slender arm wielding a force greater than one would expect. Li Xin’s eyes darted to Uncle Wang’s hands, calloused and rough from years of labor.

Li Xin couldn’t help but feel sorry for the couple. Though he himself was a professional gamer, he had always resented children secretly spending family money on games. If Wang Huan were handed over to the authorities, a ten-year sentence would be a mere trifle.

“You little brat, say another word and I’ll break your legs. I feed you, clothe you, send you to school—and this is how you repay us? Do you even know that money was meant for your sister to buy a house?”

Uncle Wang’s voice thundered through the shabby little building, shaking loose the dried, cracked paint from the walls.

Wang Huan tried to resist, but ultimately, he shrank back, lowering his head in defeat.

At this, Wang Xiaoqian swiftly explained the situation to Li Xin in a low voice.

The eldest daughter, Wang Hui, had graduated from university and found a boyfriend from Gaoyou. Both worked in Gaoyou and were happy together, but the boyfriend’s family was well-off and looked down on Wang Hui. The parents, determined to stand up for their daughter, resolved to buy her a house so that the boyfriend’s family would have nothing more to say.

But now...

Li Xin’s heart grew heavier as he listened.

“What game was it, Wang Huan, that cost so much?” he asked.

Wang Huan hesitated for a long time, endured several scoldings from Uncle Wang, and finally mumbled, “Odyssey.”

Uncle Wang and Aunt Zhang frowned, unfamiliar with the name, but Li Xin and Wang Xiaoqian nodded in recognition.

“Odyssey” had launched last month, a semi-holographic projection game, its genre similar to most online games—real-time MMORPGs. Its early advertising was extensive, and it promised a uniquely immersive experience, resembling the helmet game “God of Light.”

Li Xin knew something about it, though he hadn’t played. Wang Xiaoqian, who only played games occasionally, hadn’t tried it either.

Li Xin took out his phone and quickly researched the game online, gaining a rough understanding.

“What are you planning?” Wang Xiaoqian asked softly.

Li Xin smiled faintly. “Nothing special.” He looked at Wang Huan. “Wang Huan, sell your account to me. According to forum market prices, I’ll offer eighty percent value. For your account, I’ll pay fifty thousand.”

“I...” Wang Huan struggled for a moment but said nothing.

Uncle Wang and Aunt Zhang stared at Li Xin as though he were a ghost, making his skin crawl. After a long while, Aunt Zhang firmly refused. “Li Xin, you can’t buy it.”

“Uh... Why not?”

“You’re Xiaoqian’s boyfriend. We appreciate your kindness, but we can’t let you take the blame for our financial mess,” Aunt Zhang replied, showing her sense of propriety.

Wang Xiaoqian sighed inwardly; she had expected Aunt Zhang to refuse. If it had been a stranger, there would be no issue. But Li Xin was a friend, and such help felt almost pitying. Out of pride and principle, their refusal was inevitable.

“Aunt Zhang, I’m not short on money, and I enjoy gaming. To be frank, I spend plenty on games myself. If I were to play Odyssey, I’d have to start from scratch and spend all over again. Buying Wang Huan’s account lets me benefit while you recover your losses—a win-win situation, don’t you think?”

“Aunt Zhang...”

Li Xin was patient, persuading both logically and emotionally, and finally, he acquired the account. With the ten-thousand yuan difference, the Zhang couple’s guilt was eased somewhat.

After recording Wang Huan’s account and security details, Li Xin drove off with Wang Xiaoqian.

“Li Xin, I thought you’d find a buyer, but you bought it yourself. What for? Are you giving up your old profession?” Wang Xiaoqian frowned, puzzled.

Li Xin’s heart skipped—her words hinted at more. By “old profession,” she meant CF, and though she knew of his identity, she didn’t press the issue, so he pretended not to notice.

“Heh, this game looks fun. Besides, did you see how reluctant Wang Huan was? My instincts tell me there’s something special in his account.”

“In these monster-hunting, leveling games, there are often unique quests or rare items. I genuinely want to help them, but I’m also curious about what surprises Wang Huan’s account might hold.”

Wang Xiaoqian had more questions, but seeing Li Xin focused on driving, she let them go for now. The two stopped for a simple breakfast, then headed straight to the sales outlet for Odyssey’s gaming equipment.

Upon arrival, they found the place not crowded. Semi-holographic helmet games were novel but expensive; even the basic models cost tens of thousands, and ordinary players hesitated to buy. Moreover, gamers tended to stick with the games they’d played for years, so Odyssey—like God of Light—was seeing only moderate growth in new customers.

Back when he was with Dongjia, Li Xin had looked into God of Light. The Dongjia squad had formed a special team for the world championship of God of Light, but then issues with the semi-holographic helmets kept cropping up—random electrocutions, server lag, equipment malfunction—all factors hindering the growth of such games.

Now, Odyssey had only been live for a week, attracting a wave of players, but none of these fundamental issues had been resolved.

All these factors combined meant Odyssey had failed to reach the explosive popularity its creators had hoped for.