Chapter 44

Chapter 45

In 1995, Marilyn Manson had yet to sink to being a pop-rock star. His bassist had not joined the band yet, and few people in China knew who this rock singer was or what he could do, with his name cobbled together from America's most famous sex symbol and a serial killer. But I was certain the guys in front of me knew him.

Years later, whenever I searched the vast ocean of information online, I would think of this question: back then, with nothing but a few secondhand magazines and incomplete CD track lists, how had they managed to learn so much about the things they cared about?

Shao Ke stopped playing and looked up at me. "Which Manson?"

I grinned, baring my teeth. "What other Manson? The Antichrist one."

All of them immediately took an interest in me. Wang Yi looked me up and down. "Not bad. Kids these days are badass."

I ignored him and squatted down to look through the cutout tapes. Most were black rap and dance music. I knew these bastards must have kept all the good stuff for themselves and only come out to sell the leftovers because they were short of money.

"Got any Nirvana?" I asked Shao Ke. "I don't mind paying more. Red Hot Chili Peppers or Sex Pistols would do too."

The moment I finished speaking, they all squatted in a circle around the stall, looking me up and down. Not one of them glanced at Zhang Xiaotong. For the first time, I learned that there was something in this world called a hobby, and it was more beautiful than my lovely cousin.

Zhang Chen reacted fastest, pulling a Nirvana tape from his bag. "Yeah, but it's pricey. Forty-five yuan."

I gave Zhang Chen a sideways look. "Do I look like a foreigner to you?"

Zhang Chen was displeased. "What's that supposed to mean? Just tell me whether you're buying."

I tossed a tape in my hand, weighing it. "A whole barrel of tapes costs three hundred, and you're charging me forty-five for one? Do you think I'm as rich as a foreigner, or as stupid as one? At forty-five each, buying six would be enough for you to restock a whole barrel. A bit of a rip-off, isn't it?"

My words stunned Zhang Chen. How could he have expected to run into someone who knew the business? For a moment, he had no idea what to say.

I went on, "But I won't hold it against you. Even at forty-five each, give me however many you have. I'll take them all. If you have any Björk, sell me those too. Consider it making friends."

I guessed they had not made a sale since setting up the stall. Zhang Chen leaped to his feet. "We do, we do! Wait, I'll find them!"

The others did not move. Björk was hard to get hold of right now, and they were very reluctant to sell her tapes. I ignored them and, still squatting, asked Shao Ke, "An acoustic?"

Shao Ke paused, then held out the guitar. "You play?"

I took the guitar and tried a couple of notes. The instant the strings rang out and trembled, I felt as though I had returned to those nights, that life of Van Gogh and Owen Stone, those nights of films, music, novels, and comics. Back then, Shao Ke had once made a grand declaration, vowing to let the whole world know that countless talented people lived among China's ordinary folk.

After so many years, would he still remember any of it?

I lowered my head, positioned both hands, and began playing Nirvana's "Smells Like Teen Spirit," which had knocked Michael Jackson off the singles chart in 1992. Despite all the shortcomings of Shao Ke's guitar, the chords I had learned from Wang Yi back then still served me to some extent, and my diligent practice over these past few years gave me some room to perform. What I did drew everyone's attention to the guitar in my hands. Although Kurt Cobain's playing had far too many inimitable qualities, even managing a surface resemblance was enough to leave these enthusiasts with their mouths hanging wide open.

A shared language played an enormous role in communication between two people. By the time I hummed "A denial," none of them were looking at me as a little brat anymore. Their eyes held the joy of finding one of their own.

I took off the guitar and handed it back to Shao Ke. "Nice guitar. How much did you pay for it?"

Shao Ke did not answer. He lowered his head, dug two Björk tapes out of his battered yellow schoolbag, and handed them to me. "They're yours. First kid I've ever seen who listens to Nirvana. Impressive."

Wang Yi gestured beside us. "Your fingering could be a little better. You've got more of a future than we do."

Shao Ke laughed and gave him a slap. "Quit showing off your little bag of tricks all day. What's your name, brother?"

"Zhou Xingwen."

Gao Kang, who had remained silent at the side, gave an "Oh!" "You're famous. You've written quite a few things, haven't you? Like that..."

I smiled. "The Western Pop Music Appreciation series."

Shao Ke clapped his hands. "I was wondering how someone this awesome could be around here without us knowing. So it's you."

I put on an embarrassed expression. "Not at all. Just a little brat scamming people out of their money." I introduced Zhang Xiaotong while I was at it. "This is my older cousin, Zhang Xiaotong. You've heard of her too, right?"

Zhang Chen had finished finding the tapes and was checking them one by one for duplicates. He was not very interested in music, which made him an oddity among this group. "Only a deaf person wouldn't have. Your cousin's famous nationwide."

I shrugged. "I never noticed."

Zhang Xiaotong smiled beside me. "Neither did I."

Only now did their eyes fall on Zhang Xiaotong. They had little interest in beautiful women and only acknowledged talented people. That was why getting into their circle was actually quite difficult.

But right now, I was brimming with confidence. I had come from an age of information overload. What the hell did I have to fear?

Seeing that Zhang Chen was nearly done finding the tapes, I took some money from my pocket. "How much?"

Only now did the others realize how beautiful Zhang Xiaotong really was, and they stared at her for quite a while.

Zhang Chen was relatively mature and lightly nudged Wang Yi and Gao Kang with his arm. Shao Ke needed no reminder. Realizing they had lost their composure, they looked a little embarrassed. Zhang Chen handed me the tapes. "Five tapes. No charge for the two Shao Ke gave you. How about fifty altogether for these three?"

I grinned. "Oh? So cheap now?"

Zhang Chen smiled with an apparently honest expression. "You know all the ins and outs. How much could I charge? There are only a few listenable tapes in a barrel of cutouts anyway. Don't think it's too expensive, brother."

I knew that, generally, a wholesale barrel of cutout tapes contained seventy percent black rap and twenty percent dance music, with plenty of duplicates too. Finding three to five decent tapes in one barrel was already very lucky.

I looked at Zhang Xiaotong. Smiling, she squatted beside me and took a hundred-yuan note from her bag. "My little cousin already said it-consider it making friends. Keep the change. Coming out in this freezing weather isn't easy."

Zhang Chen hesitated. Beside him, Shao Ke lit his cigarette butt and said leisurely, "Take it, Zhang Chen." Only then did Zhang Chen reach out and accept the money.

Shao Ke smiled at me. "Then we won't stand on ceremony. Let us introduce ourselves too."

I listened once more to these old friends introducing themselves. Thinking of the years I had spent with them, I kept feeling a sting in my nose.

To avoid arousing their suspicions, I lowered my head and wrote my name and phone number on a CD lyric sheet, then left it with them. "It's been too cold lately. Give me a call once it warms up in a few days. I have some discs too. You can see if there's anything you want."

Shao Ke took the phone number and tucked it inside his coat. Just as in the old days, whenever something came up, he and Zhang Chen were generally the ones who took the lead.

I took a deep breath. The freezing air entering my nose helped clear and calm my mind. I had finally run into a few more people after so many years apart. It seemed the new year really did bring a fresh start.

Leading Zhang Xiaotong away by the hand, I looked up at the moon. The happiness and bitterness in my heart stuck together, leaving me unable to speak.

The next day, Zhang Xiaotong came over to hang out and asked about Shao Ke and the others. "Do you know them?"

I made up a lie. "I heard Guo Zhen mention them. A few of them are pretty good at music. I never expected to run into them last night."

Zhang Xiaotong rarely doubted anything I said, so there was little she could say.

After the Spring Festival, the printed manuscript Yang Yuanzhe and the others had brought me-heavy enough to kill someone with its weight alone-was handed over to Liu Mingyao, and the development team immediately plunged into endless torment. As we envisioned it, the current Voyage Chronicles game needed an MMORPG framework, while its core systems had to be as simple as possible. These seemingly contradictory requirements posed an enormous challenge to the people implementing them.

My position was that they had to get it done before the end of the year, come hell or high water, or the development team would be dissolved.

After Liu Mingyao passed along this directive, the development team, which had grown cocky from the booming sales of Electronic Pet, had no choice but to split temporarily into two groups. One would continue follow-up development on With You, while the other began studying the design proposal for this so-called New Voyage Chronicles. By the look of things, they would have to recruit more people within days.

To improve efficiency, I had Liu Mingyao recruit a group of university students outside Sanhao Street who could do odd jobs, first putting together some details that could be completed ahead of time. The design already had fairly detailed formulas and sketches, and having the planning department provide coordinated guidance made the work very efficient too.

The situation was actually rather awkward. We had no top game producers, only individual staff members who could bring some of my ideas to life. If this went on too long, it would be very bad. Who knew whether the game brand we had just established could last?

I began to consider it. Yang Yuanzhe and Ge Jinqiu had clearly performed better than I had expected over the past two months. Should I let them enter the game industry ahead of time? They were only two years older than me, though. It still felt a little too early.

We had to find a way to poach a few decent game producers. With that in mind, I contacted Liu Mingyao. "President Liu... oh, no... Brother Tumor, how are the negotiations with the Japanese going?"

"Not bad. They're softening up bit by bit. I figure it's because Electronic Pet is selling so well in Europe. Apart from the eighties, they've never seen a game do this damn well in the European and American markets."

"Heh, a cow that can't calve-you've really wrecked its lady parts with all that bull..." I ribbed him over the phone. "How about this? Take a delegation to Japan on an inspection tour. While you're there, find a Japanese guy willing to sell out his own country, get in touch with producers at a few game companies, and poach a couple who can make games."

"For something this despicable, how could you... how could you only just think of coming to me!" Liu Mingyao shouted on the other end. I could practically picture the spit flying. "I'll take some people over once the relatives visiting my place leave. Or we could send Cai Qing. She's better at handling people than I am. She's got those guys from Stanford completely under her thumb."

"Japan's full of lechers. If you feel comfortable sending Sister Cai, I have no objection," I said. "I'm not going, anyway. Look how young I seem, and I'm busy with school. Besides, I'd have to sort out a passport again and everything. Too much trouble."

Mentioning Cai Qing hit Liu Mingyao right where he was vulnerable. "Fine, fine, I surrender. I'll go. Damn it, do I get an allowance..."

"Go find some compensated dating in Shibuya," I mocked him. "We'll reimburse it as a business expense, but you have to bring glory to the country. If you last less than an hour, don't tell anyone you're Chinese."

Naturally, Liu Mingyao understood exactly what "compensated dating" meant. He was something of an innocent himself, a classic all-talk-and-no-action type just like me. Hearing this, he gave a strange yell. "Is that fucking compensated dating? Why does it sound like a triathlon to me?"

I laughed. "I hear Japanese hotels all have pinhole cameras secretly filming people. If your masterpiece unfortunately makes its way back to China, I'll be sure to copy one for Sister Cai."

Liu Mingyao was utterly defeated. "I-I-I-I was wrong... I'll complete the mission and live up to Your Excellency's expectations."

"Good boy," I said, holding back laughter. "I'll fax you the list and some basic information. Use it as a guide to find them. It should save plenty of time."

Liu Mingyao sheepishly took the fax and scurried off.

By the end of February, PS console sales had passed one million, and the console edition of With You had broken through the three-hundred-thousand mark. SCE's confidence surged, and it finally agreed to our unreasonable demand, sending a group of people who had participated in the two original PS projects to China to help Sun Electronics develop software. Sun Electronics, for its part, stated that it would temporarily allow PS exclusivity for its games on home consoles, but would not abandon the PC game market as a result. Considering how limited Japan's domestic PC game market really was, SCE agreed.

Once this group arrived, with their extensive software development experience and thorough understanding of the PS hardware's capabilities, the technical work became relatively easy. At the very least, they could guide our people on what to do, what not to do, what was redundant, and what was necessary. I believed that after another period of working together, our current team could become one of the best development teams in China. Apart from guidance from an outstanding producer, we had everything.

I had reminded Liu Mingyao to watch out for Sony's industrial spies. In truth, though, we were not afraid. Operationally, Sun Electronics' internal structure was already close to complete, leaving few opportunities to exploit business loopholes. All those little Japanese tricks were clearly documented in later business case studies. As I put it, if we couldn't outplay them, we might as well go bungee jumping without a cord.

As soon as the Japanese arrived in China, the New Voyage Chronicles proposal stunned them. They absolutely refused to believe that a game like this had been proposed by a twelve-year-old child and fleshed out by two middle school students barely over fourteen. Looking at the world map that was already taking shape and the various detailed summaries, the Japanese marveled. What concept of MMORPGs existed in 1995? No development company had ever considered creating such an enormous world. To them, it was a complete waste. But the company's highest directive was to assist us, so they could only do whatever work we gave them.

In my conception, the first New Voyage Chronicles would still be an ordinary adventure-style SLG-plus-RPG, somewhat similar to Koei's Taikō series. But that was merely to seize market share. More importantly, I hoped this installment would establish a solid foundation and pave the way for a future online version. Most players in 1995 and 1996 still had a strong spirit of exploration. What they needed at this time was a game they could explore and devote themselves to endlessly. Once this era passed, the fond memories these games left them would become an incentive to spend money on online games.

Get the first bite of the cake. That was the principle I had always followed.

Once game development moved into detailed implementation, there was basically nothing left for me to do. After all, I was in the final semester of sixth grade. However much I coasted, school still kept me for ten hours every day before I could escape. I happily took it easy, doodling and scribbling in class each day and reading extracurricular books. Xu Jiajia disapproved of my lazy attitude. Zhang Xin still said nothing, occasionally looking at me with concern, which made me feel guilty. Whenever I had nothing to do, I let my gaze wander, not daring to meet hers.

The past was like smoke...

The rest of my time was tests, exercises, exercises, tests, over and over and over again... (Is this bastard padding things out for VIP royalties...?)

After finishing homework I had thought I would never finish, I gripped my own neck and asked Zhang Xiaotong, "Do I look like a hanged ghost now?"

Zhang Xiaotong's face bloomed with laughter. "Yes."

I plopped down on the carpet. "I finally understand why so many people hanged themselves in ancient times."

My cousin played the straight woman. "Why?"

"Too many scholars," I delivered the punch line. "They had to memorize all those books from start to finish, so there were loads of hanged ghosts."

Zhang Xiaotong rocked back and forth with laughter. "Serves you right! You made fun of me back then, and now you're getting your just deserts, aren't you?"

"I... I... I didn't even say anything back then..." I put on an aggrieved expression. "Look at me. I don't look like a good student at school, and when Experimental Middle School came to recruit me, I refused to give the teachers any face and insisted on going to a lousy middle school. The teachers never look pleased to see me now. That's real pressure."

Zhang Xiaotong blinked. "I remember you seemed to have told me something."

"What?"

"About one of your teachers offending some people."

I remembered. "Oh, right... our politics teacher, you mean? Are you saying..."

Zhang Xiaotong smiled like a little fox. With her eyes narrowed, she looked extraordinarily charming. No wonder people loved her.

"I didn't say anything," she said, shaking her little head. "It just happened to cross my mind."

"Pah. No wonder the ancients said there's nothing more venomous than a woman's heart," I grumbled. "A young girl's heart is pretty venomous too..."

Zhang Xiaotong pinched me. "Who are you talking about? Aren't I helping solve your problem? You could have thought of it yourself anyway."

I rubbed my face. "Ah... Third Brother isn't home. Who should I go to..."

After thinking for ages, I realized I did not actually know anyone. I still had to call Guo Zhen. He was the spokesman for thugs now.