The Genius Cannon Fodder's Counterattack 9

During his few days away from Yang Baihua, Chi Xiaochi finished organizing the official demos of "Words from the Heart," "Love You," and "Autumn Thoughts," one by one.

Cheng Yuan had chosen the titles with great care. If the songs were going to be released, they had to—and could only—be released under those three names.

Cheng Yuan's golden finger was quite useful. All Chi Xiaochi had to do was think about composing, and countless melodies and passages would naturally pour into his mind, so the work wasn't difficult.

After recording the last song, Chi Xiaochi lay on the bed and offered his review of the experience: "I feel like I'm some kind of artist."

061 laughed. "Weren't you one before?"

After a whole night of the suspension-bridge effect courtesy of a horror movie, their revolutionary class friendship had grown stronger, and their banter now flowed more easily than ever.

Chi Xiaochi said, "Before, I was just a lousy student with a high school diploma. Then I blinked, and now I've somehow got a bachelor's degree."

The system said, "...So a student who won scholarships three years in a row counts as a lousy student."

Chi Xiaochi said darkly, "You even know my grades. Which year's interview did you learn that from?"

061: "..." He'd been tricked.

Chi Xiaochi sighed. "You watch my movies and follow my interviews. Rabid fans are terrifying."

061: "..." I'm not. I didn't. I really am a proper, respectable system.

In a last-ditch struggle, 061 said, "I only wanted to understand you better to make it easier to carry out the mission."

Chi Xiaochi rolled over to face the ceiling and fell silent.

His silence suddenly made 061 a little flustered. Realizing that hadn't come out very well, he added, "...You're not just a mission to me, either."

That, at least, was sincere.

Chi Xiaochi was his eleventh host.

And for a host stranded and alone in an unfamiliar world, the system was the only thing they could trust and rely on.

Although he had been formatted, the feelings that remained told 061 that every separation from a host had been a distinctly unpleasant experience.

061 wanted to be a cold, emotionless system precisely because he didn't want to grieve over goodbyes anymore.

But it seemed he still couldn't manage it.

Chi Xiaochi said, "Don't try to explain."

061: "I..."

Chi Xiaochi said mournfully, "I can't believe I've lost your favor so quickly."

061: "..."

Chi Xiaochi sighed. "I'm no longer the Mr. Chi you once loved."

061: "..." I never should have bothered worrying about you.

Still, he breathed a sigh of relief.

Chi Xiaochi was quite different from all his previous hosts. There was something childish about the way he talked, but he acted with remarkable independence and composure.

People like him might fool around all they pleased verbally, but they knew perfectly well how to weigh the pros and cons.

His desire to return to the real world was strong. Even when the time came to say goodbye, it probably wouldn't be too difficult.

Once his craving for theatrics had run its course, Chi Xiaochi lapsed into a silent, post-performance clarity.

He reached for the bottle of sleeping pills on the nightstand, only to discover it was empty.

Chi Xiaochi got up and prepared to change clothes.

061 said, "Where are you going? All the pharmacies are closed at this hour."

Chi Xiaochi said, "Then I'll find a club and dance until the pharmacies open."

061: "..."

Cheng Yuan's body wasn't made of iron. He'd stayed up three nights straight to finish those demos, and now he wanted to go clubbing? What if he suddenly keeled over dead? What was 061 supposed to write in his work report then? "Host died from partying too hard"?

Helplessly, 061 said, "Lie down."

Chi Xiaochi brightened. "Six-six, are you planning to give me a hypnosis card for free?"

061: "..." Who's Six-six?

Chi Xiaochi guessed what 061 was thinking. "See, I figured calling you Zero or One wouldn't be great. People might get the wrong idea."

061: "..."

Chi Xiaochi said, "So Six-six still sounds best."

061 let out a deep sigh.

Fine. Six-six it was.

He said, "Always relying on medication is bad for your health. How about this? Every night before you go to sleep, I'll read to you. It might help. Even if you can't sleep, at least you won't be bored while you listen."

This time, Chi Xiaochi truly fell silent.

061 asked, "Would that be all right?"

Chi Xiaochi hung the jacket he'd taken off back on the rack and sat down on the bed again. "That's some thorough service. Did all your previous hosts get this kind of treatment?"

061 answered gently, "You're the only one I've met who couldn't sleep."

Chi Xiaochi lay flat on the bed with one hand tucked behind his head. "...All right."

"What would you like to hear? I'll go back to the system lobby and download it. I'll be back in five minutes."

"Harry Potter." After naming the book, Chi Xiaochi hesitated. "No, not Harry Potter."

The system waited patiently for his answer.

Soon, Chi Xiaochi enunciated with perfect clarity: "The People's Education Press high school politics textbook."

061: "...One moment."

The system left for five minutes and returned right on time.

He opened the book, cleared his throat twice, and began to read.

061 already had an exceptionally pleasant young man's voice. Carefully softened, it became like spring ivy twining around a tree, its leaves warmed by the sun and weaving a gentle cocoon around Chi Xiaochi's consciousness.

Chi Xiaochi closed his eyes and curled up beneath the covers. "Teacher, what high school do you work at? If you taught me politics, I promise I'd never fall asleep."

061 chuckled softly. "You really wouldn't?" One look at Chi Xiaochi was enough to know he'd never been an obedient student.

Chi Xiaochi laughed too. "Not unless you could keep me under control."

"What would it take to keep you under control?"

Chi Xiaochi said, "Being good-looking."

061 gave a soft, indulgent laugh.

He didn't even know what he himself looked like. A system's self-recognition module remained disabled year-round; even if he looked in a mirror, all he could see was a mass of pixels.

But he had no desire to keep Chi Xiaochi under control. As long as Chi Xiaochi was happy and completed his missions quickly, 061 could make faster progress on his end as well.

—Once he completed two hundred missions, he would be able to terminate his contract with the Master System.

Then he could hurry to keep an appointment.

But it seemed he was already late—many years too late, late enough that he'd suffered an accident and had his memories formatted.

But that didn't matter. As long as he returned to the part of the worldline that belonged to him, he would remember eventually.

061 connected to the room's lighting system and dimmed the lights, then instructed Chi Xiaochi on how to sleep. "Close your eyes. Put your arm down. You won't sleep well if you keep holding it up."

Chi Xiaochi closed his eyes, but his hand remained beneath his pillow.

Softly, he said, "Lou Ying would work too."

—If anyone wanted to keep him under control, they either had to be good-looking or be Lou Ying. No one else would do.

061 didn't catch it. "What?"

Chi Xiaochi didn't say anything else, so 061 continued reading until Chi Xiaochi's breathing gradually evened out and a faint flush of healthy color returned to his pale, bluish cheeks.

061 didn't call out to him. Only after checking his physical data did he confirm that Chi Xiaochi really was asleep.

061 thought with satisfaction, It really worked.

Three seconds later, the lights went out.

The next day, a well-rested Chi Xiaochi put the master recordings he'd made into a paper bag, cooked a meal, and took it to Cheng Jian's company.

Watching the apron-clad Chi Xiaochi deftly crack eggs into the wok, 061 was astonished.

...He really did know how to cook.

Cheng Jian was just as surprised as 061 when his secretary escorted his younger brother into the office carrying a lunch box.

When he heard Cheng Yuan had made the egg fried rice himself, he was even more surprised.

The temperature in the city had fallen to its lowest point since the start of winter. Cheng Yuan's nose was red from the cold, and the moment he came in, he cupped a mug of hot water in both hands and gulped it down.

Cheng Jian lifted the lid of the lunch box. Inside were rice and soup: pig-trotter-and-soybean soup and egg fried rice. Every grain of rice was coated in egg, and the freshly sliced ham had been finely diced. The pig trotter had been stewed until it was falling apart; a light poke with a chopstick made the bone, meat, and skin separate in tender layers. Savory steam rose from it, carrying a mouthwatering aroma.

Cheng Yuan breathed on his hands. "Eat up, Bro. It's hot. The lunch box I bought is really good at keeping food warm."

...The generous portions alone made it obvious this wasn't takeout.

Cheng Jian said sourly, "What a perfect little wife and mother you are. You pampered those precious hands all these years just so you could toss a wok around?"

Cheng Yuan's eyes curved as he smiled. "I'm happy to cook for you, Bro. Aren't you happy?"

Cheng Jian said, "...Hmph."

Then he polished off every bite.

Once he'd finished eating, Cheng Yuan clearly explained why he had come.

Cheng Jian pushed the lunch box aside. "You want to send your songs out?"

Clutching the paper bag, Cheng Yuan looked at him expectantly. "Do you know where I should send them, Bro?"

"I have a few classmates who work at entertainment companies. I'll ask around for you." Cheng Jian didn't know much about this area himself, so naturally he wasn't about to make any easy promises. "Do you have a particular goal in mind?"

Cheng Yuan obediently shook his head.

Frustrated by his failure to live up to expectations, Cheng Jian said, "...You silly little roe deer. You don't take anything seriously."

Cheng Yuan grinned foolishly.

"You're still laughing." Cheng Jian's face turned stern. "I have two buddies who've heard you sing before. They both asked me about you and whether you planned to debut, but you turned them down. Now one of them is at Yundu Entertainment and the other is at Nebula Entertainment. Which one do you want to try? Or should I send the songs to both?"

Cheng Yuan gave it serious thought. "Nebula."

Cheng Jian said, "...You just picked at random, didn't you?"

Cheng Yuan said, "Nebula sounds nice."

Cheng Jian: "..." He really was a silly little roe deer.

Cheng Jian stood, took the paper bag from his arms, and opened it to look inside. "Is it urgent?"

Cheng Yuan lowered his head, a little embarrassed. "Kind of... The rent's due at Old Yang's place."

Cheng Jian: "..."

He promptly planted a kick on the rear of his younger brother, who had basically been reduced to a Filipino maid.

Cheng Yuan immediately wrapped both hands around Cheng Jian's arm and gazed up at him pleadingly. "Brother."

Cheng Jian froze. He hadn't expected his younger brother—who normally bolted faster than a rabbit whenever he got hit—to cuddle up to him. By the time he recovered, his face felt a little warm. "What are you rubbing against me for? You've got some nerve."

After Cheng Yuan sauntered away with his lunch box, Cheng Jian took out the CD and put it into his computer.

He didn't know much about music, but the instant the intro began, a proud smile appeared on his face.

...Cheng Yuan had written this.

But as the melody gradually unfolded and reached the chorus, Cheng Jian froze.

He wasn't a music major and couldn't explain the technicalities, but he at least knew what sounded good.

Once they were out of Cheng Jian's office, 061 asked him, "Why did you choose Nebula?"

Chi Xiaochi answered, "Because I don't want to join Yundu."

Unlike Cheng Yuan, whenever Chi Xiaochi intended to do something, he naturally investigated beforehand.

Letting a small company produce Cheng Yuan's songs would be a criminal waste of talent. But in his previous life, Cheng Yuan had no experience. Besides, his older brother Cheng Jian had extensive connections and knew many executives at major entertainment companies. If Cheng Yuan sent out his songs, word was bound to reach his brother eventually.

Young and inexperienced, and egged on by Yang Baihua to sever ties with his family, Cheng Yuan had believed it would be wrong to fall back on his family's protection to earn money right after their falling-out.

This time, Chi Xiaochi had come straight to Cheng Jian and taken the shortcut without the slightest hint of shame.

He did plan to join a major entertainment company, but the one company he had no intention of joining was Yundu Entertainment.

Yundu was Tang Huan's company. Joining it would make his plan inconvenient to carry out.

061 was about to say something else when he suddenly stopped. "...He's coming."

"Who?"

061 said, "Yang Baihua."

Chi Xiaochi said, "...Hm?"

061 said, "I connected to your new car's GPS. Someone has just entered your current address into it. Yang Baihua is probably coming to see you."

"His parents are here for a week. Isn't he spending time with them?"

061 said, "It's noon." His parents might be taking a nap.

...After being left hanging for the past few days, had he finally lost his nerve?

Over the past few days, Yang Baihua's affection points had risen and fallen erratically. It was obvious he was in quite a turmoil and very concerned about the childhood friend named "Lou Ying" whom "Cheng Yuan" had mentioned.

Chi Xiaochi shrugged. "I'm not home, so all he'll do is make the trip for nothing."

Then he added with genuine regret, "Still, it would be nice if Brother Lou were actually home. He cares so much about Brother Lou that he even came all this way to see him. It'd be a shame to let him leave empty-handed."

061 said, "...It can be done."

Chi Xiaochi raised an eyebrow. "Huh?"

061 said, "I can create a solid projection. It will look exactly like a normal person to the naked eye and can even feel solid to the touch for a short time. Although the Master System strictly forbids us from using physical forms to interact with the outside world, as long as the host doesn't report me to the Central System, it won't be a problem. ...I can pretend to be Lou Ying."

Chi Xiaochi thought it over. "Sure."

061 said, "Mm."

Chi Xiaochi said, "Make yourself handsome."

061 said, "...Mm."

061 considered modeling the projection after some movie star, but that would be troublesome, and more than one of his fellow systems had praised his own appearance as handsome.

After thinking it over, he decided to use his true appearance.

Soon, a projection of 061 appeared inside the apartment.

He sat quietly on the bed, looked at his hands and feet, then examined himself in the full-length mirror. Without exception, everything he saw was covered by enormous blocks of pixels.

Just as expected.

With nothing else to do, the system neatly folded the clothes Chi Xiaochi had left on the bed and put them away in the closet.

About half an hour later, the intercom rang. It was the security guard, saying that a visitor had come for Mr. Cheng, who lived there.

061 answered, "Yes. Is it a Mr. Yang? Please let him in."

Five minutes later, the doorbell rang, and he got up to answer it.

It was indeed Yang Baihua on the other side. 061 smiled and nodded to the dumbstruck man. "Mr. Yang? Xiao Yuan told me you would be coming."

Yet Yang Baihua, normally so considerate in social situations, stood frozen for a long time after coming face-to-face with 061. He didn't even respond to 061's greeting.

"...Mr. Yang?"

He had no idea what he looked like through Yang Baihua's eyes.

The man before him wore a white shirt and black pants and stood straight-backed, a few centimeters taller than Yang Baihua. Yet his clean, refined air—and especially the shape of his eyes and brows—bore an astonishing resemblance to Yang Baihua himself!