A Life with Cheats

Hu Lai sat obediently at his desk. He felt the light beside him dim, then a hand reached over and set a plate on the table beside him.

Hu Lai turned and saw his mother.

After setting down the plate, his mother, Xie Lan, did not leave immediately. Instead, she sat down on the bed beside his desk.

"Mom, is something wrong?" Hu Lai asked doubtfully.

Whenever his mother brought him fruit or anything else before, she would set it down and leave, afraid of disturbing his studies. So her sitting down today was rather unusual.

Facing her son's puzzled gaze, Xie Lan considered her words before saying, "Mom knows you like playing football, but your studies are the most important thing."

As a mother, she had noticed that he had come home dirtier than usual over the past two days. Sweat had carved furrows through the dust on his face.

How could she not know what her son had been doing these past two days?

She had known for a long time that he secretly played football. Out of affection for her son, she had said nothing and had even helped him cover it up. After all, she and her husband saw things differently. She felt it was better for their son to have a hobby than none at all. As long as he did not pursue it professionally, playing football was no big deal.

But now, her son seemed to be taking football more and more seriously and investing increasingly more in it. She worried that if this continued, her husband would find out, and it would affect her son's grades as well.

"I know, Mom. I've been studying all along," Hu Lai said, not expecting that this was why his mother had come to see him.

At home, "football" was a forbidden word. He played outside in secret, hiding it from his family. He felt certain his mother knew, but she had never exposed him. He did not know why she had suddenly brought it up today.

"Your father opposes you playing football and wants you to study hard. He has his reasons too..." Xie Lan thought for a moment, then added, "He doesn't want you to follow in his footsteps."

"Mom, every trade has its masters. Besides, I don't think being a security guard is anything shameful. Isn't it all just earning money through honest work to support the family?" Hu Lai said with a grin.

His father worked as a security guard in an upscale residential complex.

Hearing her son say that, Xie Lan shot him a glare. "Don't say that in front of your dad! Of course parents hope their children will amount to more than they did. Otherwise, why did we send you to Dongchuan Middle School?"

As one of the best middle schools in East River City, Dongchuan Middle School was not easy to get into. Either you scored above its extremely high entrance cutoff on the high school entrance exam, or you spent money, pulled strings, and found someone to get your child in.

Hu Lai said nothing, but the curl of his lips showed that he was unconvinced.

Xie Lan knew what her son was thinking too. She sighed softly. "Anyway, don't go too overboard."

She did not say what she meant by overboard, but Hu Lai knew.

His mother got up and left. Hu Lai remained at his desk, looking at the plate she had brought him. It held apples she had carefully prepared for him, completely peeled and cored, the flesh cut into small pieces with toothpicks stuck into them so he could eat them directly. He would not need to wipe or wash his hands afterward, so it would not delay his studying or homework.

They were Red Fuji apples, crisp, sweet, and juicy. But they did not keep well. Once peeled and left exposed to the air for too long, the surface of the flesh would oxidize and discolor. They should be eaten quickly.

But Hu Lai did not eat them.

He actually liked apples quite a bit, but after hearing what his mother had said, he no longer felt like eating.

He knew his mother had peeled the apples for his own good. She had prepared them so thoroughly because she did not want to waste his time.

Just like when his parents had borrowed money and paid a high price to send him to Dongchuan Middle School.

That had been for his own good too. They had sent him to the best middle school and created the best possible learning environment for him. Dongchuan Middle School had an undergraduate admission rate of ninety-eight percent and an elite university admission rate of ninety percent. In other words, as long as you entered Dongchuan Middle School, you were almost guaranteed admission to an undergraduate program.

To do that, Hu Lai's parents had borrowed money everywhere and called in favors through several layers of connections before getting him into this provincial key middle school in East River City.

Because they were deep in debt, his father had voluntarily taken on two extra night shifts each week, just to earn more bonuses and overtime pay and repay the huge debt of 350,000 yuan sooner. Hu Lai's parents had not told him about this; he had overheard it. The moment he did, he had rushed in and gotten into a huge fight with them.

He had never wanted to attend Dongchuan Middle School in the first place. He would rather have gone to the high school division of the middle school he had already attended. Though that school was quite ordinary, his grades would have let him advance directly into its high school division with relative ease. His middle school classmates of three years were there, as were his friends. It was closer to home too, and his parents would not have had to go around begging and borrowing money while enduring the cold looks of relatives.

Worst of all, after doing all that, his parents turned around and spoke to him earnestly, with the frustration of parents disappointed in their child. "Wasn't this all for your own good?"

That made Hu Lai feel terribly wronged.

"But I never asked you to do this! I never asked you to borrow so much money for me! I don't want you to give up everything to create better conditions for me! I don't want to attend some damn provincial key middle school! You made that decision for me without asking!"

That day, after he shouted those words at his parents, his father slapped him hard across the face.

The argument ended. Hu Lai rushed into his bedroom and locked the door. His father roared in the living room, "Look at him! Just look at him! He thinks he's the one being wronged?! Not a shred of gratitude! Who did we do all this for?! We raised him for more than ten years, and all we got was a goddamn ungrateful wretch!"

"That's enough! Say less! You've had too much to drink!" His mother shrieked as she pushed her husband toward their bedroom. Then, with a bang, the door shut, sealing the screams and roars inside that room.

Hu Lai still clearly remembered his grievance and anger. His parents had forced those things on him, yet in the end, it was as though he had brought it all upon himself...

Why?

Why was that?

Hu Lai had never been able to figure it out.

But he knew that from then on, he could not bring it up in front of his parents.

So when his mother said those words again just now, he kept his answer to himself.

Of course he knew his mother meant well, but he did not want that kind of goodwill.

From childhood to now, how many things had they forced him to do that he did not like under the banner of "it's for your own good"?

Take football. He clearly loved it so much, yet his father had forcibly forbidden it on the grounds that "playing football is useless and interferes with studying." When the other kids played football in the courtyard, he was not even allowed to watch, much less play. If he secretly played and got caught, he would be scolded at best and beaten at worst.

They said scolding and beating me were for my own good. But if it was for my own good, why wouldn't they let me do what I liked?

Was that really for my own good?

Even if everyone in the world believed that parents sacrificing everything to create good conditions for their children was for the children's own good, Hu Lai would not accept that view.

Political correctness did not mean it was truly correct.

Pulling his gaze away from the plate of peeled apples, Hu Lai stared blankly at the textbook spread open before him.

Before his mother came in, he had been sitting obediently at his desk, but he had not actually been reading. Instead, he had been repeatedly browsing the system interface in his mind.

It was not that there was anything new in the system. It was still the same as before: a virtual version of himself, an Official Store with only one item, and a lucky wheel with no bunny girls, only a scrolling marquee.

He was simply immersing himself in all kinds of beautiful visions of the future through the system.

Before, he had had no choice. He liked football, but he truly had no talent for it, so he could only obediently follow the path his parents had planned for him, even though he did not know whether that path would work out. Dongchuan Middle School might have had an undergraduate admission rate of ninety-eight percent, but what if he unfortunately became part of that remaining two percent?

But things were different now. I have a system. Why shouldn't I take the path I like?

He had personally experienced the effects of the [Marrow-Cleansing Potion] the system had given him. That proved the system could truly change his physique. If it could change his physique, then it could change his life too.

Hu Lai firmly believed that.

He was going to take this path. No matter how strongly his father opposed it, even if his father slapped him again, he would take this path.

Getting this system could not possibly be so that he would continue down the road his parents had planned for him.

My life... is about to get cheats!

PS: Since the book still has not gone premium and I can add as many words as I want at the end of a chapter without worrying about charging everyone extra, let me talk a little about the protagonist, Hu Lai.

The original inspiration for this character came from one of my classmates during my first year of high school.

We had the same surname, and his given name differed from mine by only one character. Like me, he wore glasses, and even his build and appearance were somewhat similar to mine.

He liked football and was interested in military affairs.

Boys, after all, generally liked both of those things, so when we played football, we brought him along.

But this classmate who loved football did not actually know how to play. His performance on the pitch was extremely... clumsy.

Off the pitch, he could talk endlessly and expertly about football knowledge. Once he got onto the pitch, he could kick the ball into his own goal.

His movements were comical. He could swing his leg with all his might and still miss the ball, and poking the ball with his toe was his standard move.

He truly loved football, but he truly was terrible at playing it.

Back then, everyone mocked him. Faced with their ridicule, he only smiled. He did not argue back, and he did not seem angry either.

Because he was so bad, everyone gradually stopped wanting to bring him along to play football.

Later, in our second year of high school, we split into arts and science classes. I stayed in the original class and became an arts student, while he was assigned elsewhere.

The next time I saw him was near graduation in our third year. He was buying a military magazine from a newsstand outside the school. I ran into him and exchanged a few words with him.

"Do you still like football?"

"Not anymore." He smiled and shook his head, then left with the military magazine.

After that, I forgot about that classmate. But when I planned to write a new book, his image and his story resurfaced in my mind.

I have to admit that the younger me had mocked that classmate too. I laughed at how badly he played football, and I laughed at the foolish way he only smiled whenever we criticized him.

Thinking about it now, might that have been another form of school bullying?

At the time, no one cared what the person being mocked thought. No one cared whether he was happy, and no one could see his embarrassment behind that simple-minded smile.

He liked football and could talk endlessly and expertly about what happened in the football world and about football knowledge. But after three years of high school, he no longer liked football.

I had felt regretful at the time, but thinking about it now, wasn't that perfectly normal?

He liked football but could not find happiness in it. When he wanted to play, his classmates mocked and excluded him. How many people could continue that passion without complaint or expectation of reward?

So he stopped liking football.

Later, I never contacted him again. That conversation became the last time we ever spoke.

But I imagine that as a military enthusiast now, rather than a football fan, he must be very happy, right? After all, our J-20 had taken to the skies, our aircraft carriers had gone to sea, Type 052D had become outdated the moment it debuted, and DF-17 had become the new favorite...

But what about Chinese football?

Out of guilt over what I had done back then, I decided to use that classmate as the prototype for the protagonist and write him into this novel.

I wanted him to love football, and when he was constantly mocked and excluded, to have a cheat that could help him.

I also wanted Hu Lai to be more stubborn and tougher than he had been back then, able to keep a strong heart even after being mocked, so he could face those malicious laughs.

I had written too many high-spirited young footballers surrounded by the love of those around them. Their stories were the experiences we dreamed of, my fantasies and wish fulfillment.

But in this book, I wanted to write about someone many people overlooked. He liked football too, but he was not likable. He was the young footballer deliberately or unconsciously omitted from my earlier football stories.

And thus there was this Hu Lai whom readers found "reckless" and "asking for it."

True to his name, he acted recklessly. But that recklessness was merely his weapon against a world that was not very kind to him, his only weapon.

When he held that weapon and faced the world, he had no intention of surrendering or admitting defeat.

In early spring last year, I had dinner in Chengdu with Talking Elbow and told him about a story in my mind. I said to him, "I want to write a story about someone fighting against the whole world."

And Hu Lai was that person fighting against the whole world.