Chapter 26: Shadows of Crisis

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For a whole week, Yang Tang holed up at home, reviewing his notes and sorting through his code. Still, the code existed only in his memory—never once actually run on a computer—so for now, it was just empty words on paper. Fortunately, Yang Tang had real project development experience; he knew some things couldn’t be rushed and that all he needed to do was follow the proper steps.

Meanwhile, with early March coming to an end and less than a month left, the new Peony Festival was about to be held in Shenhai. Many national arts, culture, and entertainment websites had started collecting poems and verses praising the peony.

On another Saturday evening, the delicate and gentle Bai Keqing had just returned to her home in Longhu. She hadn’t even had time to change into her loungewear when her phone rang. She didn’t want to answer, but upon seeing the caller ID, she picked up anyway. "Hello…"

"Ke Bai, let me tell you, those two poems you recommended are absolutely wonderful!"

The woman’s voice on the other end was as beautiful as an oriole’s song, but so loud it could startle a mouse. Bai Keqing had to hold the phone away from her ear before replying, exasperated, "Chenchen, can’t you ever speak calmly? Just because your family can handle your loud voice doesn’t mean my poor heart can."

"Alright, alright, I’ll keep it down," Chenchen replied, readily accepting the criticism. "By the way, Ke Bai, those two poems—you know, especially the line ‘Though we lack wings to fly together, our hearts are joined as one’—are just incredible. But why aren’t they popular online?"

"Hmph, what’s so strange about that? These days, people just flock to whichever posts have the most clicks or the news stories with the busiest comment sections. They don’t realize this just means the public discourse is being manipulated, and the truly good works are overlooked!"

"Sigh, I get what you mean. It’s like if the news doesn’t report it, nobody dies of hunger in Africa. The world claims to be in the information explosion era, but for ordinary folks like us, it’s like looking for a needle in a haystack. Take a great piece of software—without a quality distribution channel, it’ll flop just as easily. Is that what you mean?"

"That’s about right. But are you really an ‘ordinary folk’? Are you Little Ming whose mother calls him home for dinner?" Bai Keqing teased.

"Alright, enough joking. Let’s get to the point..."

"What business could you possibly have? Go on, I’m listening," Bai Keqing replied noncommittally.

"I checked—the author of those two poems, Yang Tang, isn’t he your classmate?"

"Yes, so what?"

"Can you invite him to the festival to compose more peony-themed poetry?" Chenchen made an outright audacious request.

"Um… I’m afraid that’s not possible. He may seem easygoing, but when it matters, he’s incredibly headstrong." As she spoke, Bai Keqing suddenly recalled the time Yang Tang smashed a desk leg in their classroom. "Besides, I don’t know him well at all—I doubt I could persuade him!"

"Oh, come on. You haven’t even asked him yet! Plus, our organizing committee isn’t going to stiff him on payment."

"It’s not about money. I really don’t know him..."

"You’re classmates! Even if you’re not close, you could get to know him. Otherwise, after graduation, everyone goes their separate ways, and you’ll never know him at all!"

"Uh..."

"Anyway, I’m counting on you for this." With that, Chenchen hung up, giving Bai Keqing no chance to refuse.

******

"Phew… The code is basically done, but to know if it actually works, I’ll need to test it in a virtual machine."

“Hmm, it’d be best to get a separate laptop for testing—safer and more portable that way!” He checked laptop prices online. “Whoa, even the cheapest ones are over three thousand! Damn, the local currency here is on par with the US dollar—this is outrageous!”

Yang Tang’s complaint was purely financial—he simply didn’t have that much money. If he had it, he’d just buy a laptop without a second thought. But with his current shortage, he couldn’t bring himself to ask his parents for money. After all, with two lifetimes combined, he was almost fifty—how could he shamelessly ask his parents for cash?

“If worst comes to worst, maybe I could build one myself?” Yang Tang’s mind began to wander.

It wasn’t that far-fetched—after all, a desktop and a laptop are similar in structure, just different in size. If desktops can be assembled, so should laptops. But when he searched the web for laptop components, he found very few dealers selling them.

“How can this be?”

After a bit of thought, Yang Tang realized the reason: it wasn’t that dealers didn’t sell laptop parts, but that too few people were interested in assembling their own laptops. Combined with the more comprehensive after-sales service of pre-built laptops, the market for parts had never taken off.

“It looks like I’ll have to check out some physical computer shops, and if that doesn’t work, I’ll just have to scrape together a few thousand and buy a decent pre-built machine.”

Having set his mind, Yang Tang tweaked the code’s encryption algorithm, ate lunch, and left home.

Since his return in this life, Yang Tang had always entered and exited the Misty University campus through the back or side gates—he’d never even seen what the main gate looked like anymore. So as he cycled toward the front gate, he had a nagging feeling something was about to happen.

Sure enough, as he neared the circular flowerbed by the main entrance, a car suddenly veered out from the side.

A honk sounded behind him. Without looking back, Yang Tang simply steered his bike toward the curb. But the car sped up to ride alongside him, squeezing him closer to the edge of the road.

Clang!

Yang Tang gripped his bike with his legs, pulled up, and both he and the bike leaped more than half a meter onto the sidewalk, stopping abruptly. He glared furiously at the car and shouted, “What kind of driving is that? Wait, it’s you?!”

“Of course it’s me!” The window rolled down, revealing He Jiani’s delicate and beautiful face. “We must be fated to run into each other!”

If she hadn’t said that, Yang Tang might have let it go, but now his expression turned grim. “Are you spying on me?”

“Of course not… I just grabbed the surveillance footage from both main roads in Songlin Village and used FACEsearch’s alert function to catch you!” He Jiani explained, pride evident in her voice. “By the way, didn’t you say you were staying home to study? What are you doing out?”

“None of your business!” Yang Tang couldn’t be bothered to argue and started wheeling his bike away.

He Jiani drove slowly alongside him, calling out, “Where are you going? How about I give you a ride?”

“No need, I’ve got my own wheels.” Yang Tang hefted his bicycle for emphasis.

“Then I’ll ride with you.” He Jiani’s quick-wittedness as a journalism student was on full display.

Yang Tang was tempted to curse or even get physical—he’d never met a woman this shameless before. But just as the thought arose, he suppressed it—not for himself, but for his parents. Both still worked at Misty University, and if he caused a scene with He Jiani in broad daylight, who knew what rumors would spread the next day?

While a university president wasn’t a monarch and positions changed every few years, academic circles had their own petty politics. Yang Tang could get himself in trouble, but he couldn’t drag his parents into it.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean it—I was just teasing you.” Seeing Yang Tang’s face shift from red to pale, as though he might explode, He Jiani quickly apologized, putting on a pitiful act.

Yang Tang’s anger subsided a little, but his expression remained cold. “I’m going to buy computer parts, you really don’t need to…”

He Jiani cut him off with a giggle. “Actually, I know a computer dealer who can give a 30% discount!”

Thirty percent off?

Remembering his empty wallet, Yang Tang hesitated for half a second before swallowing his pride. “Fine, park your car and hop on my bike.”

“Great! I haven’t ridden a bike in ages!”

******

Yang Tang took He Jiani out the main gate, and soon discovered to his surprise that all the shops selling computer supplies and components along the street had disappeared.

“Oh, that’s all old news—those shops moved to the area near Nanjie Bridge two years ago. The dealer I know has a shop there too!”

Hearing this, Yang Tang rolled his eyes. Nanjie Bridge wasn’t far, but it was two stops away—a decent ride on a bicycle.

Seated behind him, He Jiani casually wrapped her arms around his waist and pressed her cheek to his back. “By the way, Yang Tang, what are your hobbies? Movies, music, online chat?”

Yang Tang was a little uncomfortable with her closeness, but as an older man, he at least didn’t show it. “Does playing ball count?”

“Which kind of ball?”

“Basketball. Don’t you have any sports you like?” he countered.

“I do! I used to love archery. From eighth grade to tenth, I trained for three years. But during team selection, a coach said I had no potential and cut me. After that, I rarely touched a bow again.”

“Haha, never would’ve guessed you were almost a pro. I just play basketball for fun.”

…

Before they knew it, they’d reached Nanjie Bridge. He Jiani was reluctant to get off—partly because she didn’t want to end their pleasant conversation, and partly because her backside was sore. Sitting on the back of a bicycle wasn’t as romantic as outsiders thought.

As Yang Tang locked up the bike, He Jiani was about to drag him up to the second floor of a nearby aging shopping mall.

Unexpectedly, Yang Tang stopped abruptly, pointing at a four-story building across the street. “Why hasn’t that parking lot been torn down yet?” A shadow crossed his heart as he spoke.

He Jiani was surprised. “How did you know it was supposed to be demolished?”

“How did *you* know?” Yang Tang shot back.

“My dad mentioned it the other day,” she replied. “Apparently, there’s been fierce debate in the city over that plot of land, so the demolition’s still on hold.”