Chapter Fifty-One: A Flurry of Moves, Fierce as a Tiger

It had to be said—although Liu Shixun was rather slow-witted and a bit adorably clueless, the kind of student who might drive a teacher to the brink of apoplexy, as a friend, he was an absolute delight. He was a sincere kid. He worked hard at his studies, but it was all for naught. His grades were abysmal—truly bottom of the barrel! He was a textbook example of someone simply along for the ride.

His father had paid several thousand yuan in sponsorship fees just to get him into the so-called “Development Class” at the prestigious No. 1 High School of Gui A County. Anyone could guess what kind of students filled this so-called “Development Class”—all just there to muddle through. According to Liu Shixun, he’d already been transferred to No. 1 High for over a semester and yet still managed to hold firm to his spot at the very bottom of the rankings.

“My little brother, I’m not just saying this to lecture you, but even Confucius said, ‘When you see someone worthy, think to become their equal; when you see someone unworthy, examine yourself.’ You should spend more time with classmates who excel; that’s the only way to improve,” Lu Kun offered comfortingly.

“But... but my grades are the second worst in the class,” Liu Shixun replied, his face as pained as a bitter gourd, clearly frustrated.

“So what if you’re second to last? Who says the second worst student can’t hang out with the top student? You need to spend more time with those who do well, not just with the kid who’s dead last!” Lu Kun said, a bit exasperated at Liu Shixun’s lack of ambition.

At this, Liu Shixun looked even more aggrieved, tears threatening to spill, as he stammered, “But... but last semester, when I started hanging out with him, he was the top student in the class!”

“Huh?” Lu Kun was momentarily stunned. Was this for real? Liu Shixun, are you cursed or something? Wait, stupidity isn’t contagious, is it?!

Lu Kun’s gaze toward Liu Shixun became distinctly odd.

“So, what do you usually do at school?” Lu Kun raised his voice a notch.

“Nothing, really...” Liu Shixun replied, a little intimidated.

“Are you dating someone at school?” Lu Kun eyed him suspiciously. Given Liu Shixun’s intellect, it would be a miracle if he managed to find a girlfriend, but who’s to say there wasn’t a blind girl out there?

“No, no...” Liu Shixun’s ears turned red, his voice suddenly sharp, as if realizing he’d overreacted. He quickly bowed his head.

“Really?” Lu Kun pressed.

“Yes... really, I swear...” Liu Shixun hurried to defend himself.

“So let me ask you—if you can’t understand your lessons and you’re not dating, what do you do all day at school? Don’t tell me you’re just building model planes every day?” Lu Kun looked at him with the kind of concern reserved for the intellectually challenged.

Liu Shixun felt as though Lu Kun had just stabbed a steel blade into his chest.

What’s with that look of contempt? You weren’t like this a moment ago...

Suddenly, Liu Shixun saw through the facade. That gentle, handsome big-brother-next-door image was all a sham. He was a master of sarcasm, perfectly capable of killing someone with words alone.

Truth be told, Lu Kun didn’t mean to underestimate him, but with his intelligence, once he entered the real world, someone would surely take him for a ride. If he thought he could just coast through three years at No. 1 High and maybe snag a wife and kid before graduation, he might count himself lucky. But if all he did was waste away those years, it would be nothing but a colossal waste of time.

“Seventeen years old—a blossoming age, the perfect time for love...” Lu Kun said wistfully.

Liu Shixun had already drifted off into endless fantasies. Sunlight, green grass, a boy and a girl—the boy handsome, the girl gentle, soft music playing as they embraced...

“But by the time I was seventeen, I was already married, with a child,” Lu Kun said abruptly.

Crash! Liu Shixun’s beautiful daydreams shattered. He looked at Lu Kun with a wounded gaze.

Are you trying to drive me mad?

“Come on, hurry up, a bit faster—you rookie, let me show you how it’s done,” Lu Kun lounged in a rocking chair, playing a video game, while Liu Shixun crowded eagerly beside him.

“You died again! I told you to let me play,” Liu Shixun grumbled, complaining about Lu Kun’s poor gaming skills and slow reflexes.

“Fine, fine—you play, you play,” Lu Kun said, speechless. This was the first time since his rebirth that someone had insulted his gaming prowess.

Watching Liu Shixun’s flurry of hand movements, Lu Kun could tell he was an experienced player.

A minute later—

The game ended, and Liu Shixun slumped as if all his energy had drained away. “What a lousy game! Not fun at all.”

Lu Kun was speechless.

So you were just putting on airs? All that showboating for a 0-5 score...

Lu Kun looked at Liu Shixun as though he were a complete idiot.

You’re the very model of “quick to blame your teammates from the sidelines, first to charge in and hand the enemy kills, bold enough to take on five alone, but just as willing to sit back and wait for a surrender, always ready to save the enemy and block your own team.”

Lu Kun silently decided that, from now on, he’d give this guy a wide berth when it came to gaming.

How much sorrow can one have? Only as much as being stuck with Shixun as a teammate.

After Lu Kun’s devastating verbal assault, Liu Shixun, who had never been a good student, finally claimed the dubious honor of ranking dead last. Lately, he’d become obsessed with video games—he couldn’t go a day without playing.

Day after day passed like this. His dark circles grew deeper, but he seemed more energetic than ever. Lu Kun didn’t even have to guess; the kid used to look downright feeble. Now, with video games to distract him, he no longer spent his days plotting to strip off his pants and torment his precious little buddy.

Liu Shixun successfully started a video game craze in the “Development Class” at No. 1 High School. Lu Kun smelled a business opportunity and hurried to stock up, making a tidy profit.

The production cost for a game console was actually quite low—especially pirated ones. The factory price was absurdly cheap; you could buy one for just a few yuan. The real profit lay with the middlemen and retailers.

Of course, Lu Kun wasn’t foolish enough to buy from a distributor. He went straight to the source, picking up consoles from the factory for fifteen yuan apiece and selling them for thirty—a perfect deal!

At that time, few students cared whether a console was genuine or pirated; all they wanted was a bargain. Even if they realized it was a knock-off, it hardly mattered. In fact, many honest pirates made products even better than the authentic versions.

For such things, Lu Kun could only cheer, “Bravo, my pirate friends!”

After all, at that time, all the pirated technology was stolen from foreigners. Hardly any domestic companies could afford to invest in R&D. Many people took pride in supporting the pirates, hailing them as “conscientious pirates”—nothing like those foreign vampires, always after your money!