MTLNOVEL Ch. 10
“Where’s Guan Ren?”
“He left.”
When Su Ping heard the door shut and emerged from the kitchen, she saw only her daughter, Luo Xiaobei.
“Silly girl, why didn’t you ask him to stay for a meal? How long has it been since he last came over?”
“Ugh, Dad’s still home…”
Grumbling, Luo Xiaobei walked toward the bedroom.
“Oh… that old thing…”
Su Ping snorted irritably as she picked through a stalk of celery, about to turn back into the kitchen when she noticed that Luo Xiaobei was already dressed.
“Oh? Not staying in bed today?”
“Nope.”
Luo Xiaobei had two hair ties clenched between her teeth as she carefully did her hair, surprising Su Ping.
“You’re heading out?”
Luo Xiaobei shook her head.
“Then what’s with the sudden… setup?”
“Studying.”
“???”
Su Ping’s face was full of disbelief, but Luo Xiaobei didn’t care. She muttered something that sounded oddly familiar.
“Believe it or not, you’ll see after the monthly exam… Ah-choo!”
---
Meanwhile, after leaving Luo Xiaobei’s housing complex, Guan Ren had been standing outside a small street shop for a while.
“Good Chicken Hui…”
Looking at the three large characters on the signboard, Guan Ren, who had originally planned to get some braised chicken rice, fell into deep thought.
Was this a chicken restaurant…
Or that kind of chicken shop?
You couldn’t really blame him for hesitating. The place was shabbily fronted with plastic curtains. A single table sat near the entrance, and the back, presumably the kitchen, was pitch dark. It didn’t inspire confidence.
Forget it…
If curiosity really got the better of him, he could come back tonight and check if they turned on pink lights. That would answer everything.
Right now, the real issue was: after his morning run and helping Su Ping carry groceries, Guan Ren wasn’t tired, but he was definitely hungry.
What should he eat…
He walked a bit further and another shop caught his eye.
[Veteran’s Oil Tea]
“Perfect. Haven’t had oil tea in ages. Let’s go with this…”
---
In Jiangzhou County, oil tea was one of the classic comfort foods Guan Ren had grown up with.
In fact, many regions across China had their own versions of oil tea, with Wuzhi being a particularly famous one. But each region had its own local flair, Jiangzhou County included.
“Boss, give me a big bowl.”
“Want chili?”
“Yes.”
When it came to specialties, Jiangzhou County’s oil tea had to be paired with its signature fried chili oil.
Although many local snacks used chili oil, each one had its own unique twist.
For example, the one poured over oil tea couldn’t be too spicy. It had to be fragrant without being overpowering.
Of course, everyone had different tastes—but Guan Ren liked it just the way it was, so he asked for it.
As for the base of the tea broth, it was made similarly across the country: flour, soybean flour, glutinous rice flour, all stir-fried and boiled into a porridge-like consistency. The vendor ladled up a steaming hot bowl and sprinkled in crispy yellow soybeans, tender chopped pickled mustard root, and a handful of scallions.
Most importantly, a generous serving of sangza had to be added.
Sangza could be called the soul of oil tea. These deep-fried sticks looked like claws from Jiu Yin Skeleton Claw. You could think of them as stick-shaped crisps. They were first broken into smaller segments and softened in the hot tea, then scooped up and eaten in one bite. The rich aroma of the clarified butter mixed with the flour’s scent would instantly spread in the mouth. Combined with the crunch from the sangza and the pickled mustard, the result was a bowl that filled your stomach and satisfied your cravings.
“Not bad. I should bring Xiaobei here to try it next time.”
As a responsible childhood friend, Guan Ren still knew to think of his childhood sweetheart in moments like this.
“Boss, am I scanning you or are you scanning me?”
Guan Ren asked instinctively, scanning the room for a green or blue QR code sign. After a fruitless search, he noticed the boss staring at him like he was an idiot.
“Scan what?”
“…”
Oh right. Guan Ren suddenly remembered—it was still 2011. Most shopkeepers didn’t have QR codes yet.
That was a problem.
He had changed pants for his morning run. His school track pants had no money in them.
Thankfully, as the saying goes, “When the cart reaches the mountain, there’ll be a way; when the boat reaches the bridge, it’ll straighten out.”
Just as Guan Ren was stuck in this awkward moment, three figures appeared in the distance, arms around each other’s shoulders, humming a little tune.
“Find some time~ find some free time~ take my kid~ to the internet café~”
“…”
Guan Ren drooped his eyelids and stared at those three familiar clowns. The first thing that popped into his mind was that episode of Tom and Jerry where Tom stayed up all night and chugged coffee like a madman.
The three stray alley cats in that episode were exactly like the trio approaching now.
“Damn, Erye? What a coincidence?”
The first to notice Guan Ren was Liu Xiong.
“Perfect timing! I just escaped from home. Let’s go together?”
Then came Zhang Chi.
“A new ‘New Thinking’ café opened on Xing’an Road. One yuan per hour. Can’t miss it.”
Lastly, Xu Hui chimed in.
As everyone knew, the Three Phantom Gods had four members. Naturally.
Xu Hui had originally been in Class 8 in their first year of high school, but after transferring to Class 7, it hadn’t taken long for him to fall in with Liu, Guan, and Zhang. Birds of a feather flocked together, and now he was a core member of the Three Phantom Gods.
As for the other three? They were the “core of the core.”
“You guys are hitting the net café this early? Is it that serious?”
“Brother Ren, I’ve got to call you out on that one,” Xu Hui said, suddenly serious. “You’ve got a computer at home, but what about us? Let them eat cake, huh?”
Guan Ren truly was one of those who could “eat cake.” He pointed behind him.
“I just had a bowl of oil tea. Didn’t bring money—can one of you cover me?”
“Whoooo—”
At that, the trio burst into hoots and jeers, grinning as they tried to walk off.
“Hold it right there, fellow Daoists.”
Guan Ren stopped them and asked casually, “What are you guys going to play at the net café?”
“Dota, Warcraft III: Fight of Fate, Sengchu—whatever’s good…”
That was Xu Hui’s reply.
But Zhang Chi and Liu Xiong had a different take.
“Brother Ren, there’s this new game called League of Legends. Just hit open beta. It’s pretty fun—want to join?”
Guan Ren nodded to himself. So it was that time.
“Sure. I can even carry both of you to victory on my own.”
Zhang Chi and Liu Xiong responded in unison.
“Really?”
“Really. But you’ll have to pay for my food.”
“Deal! I got it!”
“No, no—I’ll do it. It’s just a few bucks…”
The two of them even started bickering over who’d pay. They didn’t entirely believe Guan Ren’s boast, but even if he was talking big, having a buddy to play with made it all worthwhile.
Especially since the two of them had just suffered a string of losses in-game. They were desperate for a sign of hope.
What they didn’t realize at the time was how League of Legends would grow. Back then, gaming was just about fun.
On the contrary, people like Xu Hui had already written the game off. Upon hearing what they were talking about, he immediately scoffed.
“League of Legends? Trash game. It’s made by Tencent. Only dogs would touch that.”
“But Xu Hui, don’t you play Dota? This one’s simpler.”
“Of course it is—it’s a ripoff.”
“Still, League is a major title. And its graphics are better than Dota’s.”
“Please! League of Legends a major game? Ever played Call of Duty?”
…
Xu Hui rambled on, smug and full of himself. Much of what he said would be considered outright hot takes in the future.
But Zhang Chi and Liu Xiong simply listened in silence, occasionally pulling faces but not arguing back.
Because in that year, Xu Hui’s views were mainstream. He wasn’t alone—far from it. No one was calling people “some kind of -ist” over their gaming tastes yet.
Back then, the gaming hierarchy was clear. At the top were single-player games and online games with premium quality, especially those from Blizzard. At the bottom were Tencent titles like CrossFire and Dungeon Fighter Online.
Games like The Journey and Demi-Gods and Semi-Devils took flak too, but they had their own niche audiences of adult “whales” and could sustain their own ecosystems.
As for the very few people across the country who actually bought legitimate single-player games—they were the emperors of the hierarchy.
…
In short, during that era, League of Legends players like Zhang Chi and Liu Xiong might not have felt it in their own circles, but in gaming communities with more “elite” tastes, even the way they breathed seemed wrong.
“Damn it, Xu Hui, enough already. You play your game, we’ll play ours. Doesn’t Brother Ren play it too?”
“Exactly.”
Liu Xiong, the most riled up, clapped Guan Ren on the shoulder.
“Brother Ren, you tell him off too. Son of a bitch, we’re all just trying to have fun. What’s with the discrimination?”
Guan Ren said nothing. He just slung his hands behind his back and walked forward with a grin.
“Hurry up, or we’ll miss out on a machine.”
…
Guan Ren wasn’t going to scold Xu Hui.
Because soon, Xu Hui would realize that the real joy of gaming didn’t lie in any specific title, but in playing with friends. He’d eventually follow the crowd and join the League of Legends camp.
Nor was Guan Ren going to defend Liu Xiong.
Because history always repeated itself: those who’d been bullied would go on to bully others.
A decade or so later, Liu Xiong would naturally forget how it felt to be looked down upon by other players. He’d start looking down on a new crop of gamers himself.
What Guan Ren believed he should do now was simply this—cherish the company of these friends while they were still pure-hearted, when their opinions and loyalties hadn’t yet hardened. Enjoy this simple, carefree youth together.