Xiao Xiao was picked up directly from school by her Dong-ge and brought to the clinic, where she and Dong Zi watched quietly as Fu Changxun continued his afternoon appointments.
When the sessions wrapped up, the three of them went out for hotpot.
“Hotpot’s here—”
The server set down the steaming dual-flavor broth pot before dashing off to grab more dishes.
“Slurp,” Xiao Xiao said eagerly.
Thin slices of meat hit the bubbling broth and were scooped out within seconds. Still piping hot, she barely waited before stuffing one into her mouth.
Fu Changxun quickly rescued a few pieces, cooked them through, and set them on her plate to cool.
The server had already returned with both cold and hot drinks in a flash—so efficient and enthusiastic that it was hard not to wonder if he’d just quit working at some high-end chain like Haidilao.
The server was quite the talker, placing dishes on the table as he chatted, “It’s rare these days to see a whole family come out for a meal together. You guys haven’t been pulled into the game yet?”
Most families had at least one member randomly selected for the game. Those who hadn’t been chosen yet lived in constant anxiety.
Forget going out for hotpot—many didn’t even want to leave their homes, afraid they might trigger the next round.
Fu Changxun and Xiao Xiao were too busy eating to answer, so Dong Zi stepped in as the “head of the household” and replied half-jokingly, half-seriously, “No, we’ve all been in already. Just finished an instance. Figured we’d bring the kid out for a good meal, just in case… y’know, next time might not be so lucky.”
The server was instantly floored. “Whoa! You made it back with a kid? Without a scratch? You must be really powerful—could you tell me what happened?”
Dong Zi: “…”
Okay, this guy’s way too chatty.
The extra presence made Xiao Xiao visibly uncomfortable, and even Fu Changxun began to feel awkward.
He spoke up gently, “We’re all starving. Would you mind bringing some desserts and fruit first?”
“Oh—right, right.” The server finally realized he’d overstepped and hurried off.
The moment he left, Xiao Xiao perked up, visibly more at ease. “Gege, try this—it’s really good!” she beamed, offering him a meatball.
Her mild depression had slowly begun to improve. At a glance, she looked like any ordinary, happy little girl again. “At school today…”
She launched into an animated story about how her classmates had crowded around her while she explained the game to them.
Fu Changxun clapped supportively. “That’s amazing. Sounds like your classmates really like you.”
Xiao Xiao beamed. “I used to be invisible in class, but now they’re finally noticing me! I want to make some friends—like Lulu-jie!”
To her, Lulu was the epitome of cool and capable—a model of the kind of woman she aspired to become.
Naturally, her standards for friends had gone up a notch too.
Fu Changxun smiled as he placed more food in her bowl—some tender meat and freshly cooked greens. But when he turned back to his own plate, he was surprised to find it already full.
He glanced over and saw Dong Zi quietly pulling his chopsticks back, all stealth and modesty.
Looking down, Fu Changxun realized every dish in his bowl was something he loved. Not a trace of cilantro or enoki mushrooms—things he disliked. It had clearly been picked over with meticulous care.
He couldn’t help the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He polished off every last bite.
***
After dinner, the three of them strolled back to the clinic on foot.
The streets were still mostly empty.
A month into the game’s descent, nearly a quarter of the global population had been pulled in at least once. Fortunately, the later instances had lower mortality rates.
It was a path paved with blood—players who died early were remembered on an official post on the Special Affairs website, each name etched into the game’s history.
No one forgot them.
Total global death toll: over forty million.
Huaxia, with its advanced internet infrastructure and strong sense of community—both through the Special Affairs Office and civilian cooperation—had one of the lowest mortality rates worldwide, despite having one of the highest selection rates.
That was Director Qiu’s one small comfort: even if people were chosen, they would fight tooth and nail to survive.
***
At 8 p.m., the clinic door was knocked again.
A young girl stood nervously outside.
She’d barely tapped the door when she caught sight of the three people inside and immediately froze.
Fu Changxun gave her a gentle smile. “Good evening. Come in, don’t worry. These are my family—they won’t pose any threat.”
Only then did the girl step inside.
“Dr. Fu… Hello. It’s been a while.” She sat cautiously, fingers twisting in her lap. “I… I’m still not used to people. Could they…”
Fu Changxun waved Dong Zi off. “Take Xiao Xiao to my break room for now.”
Dong Zi nodded and picked up the sleepy girl, carrying her off to nap in the back.
Once they were gone, the girl relaxed and began to speak.
The session lasted over an hour. By the time they wrapped up, it was already past nine. Fu Changxun stood, filled a paper cup at the water cooler, and handed it to her.
“It’s late. Is someone coming to pick you up?”
She shook her head. “No, but I’ll call a cab. I should be fine.”
“Or… I could have my boyfriend walk you to the station?”
She shook her head again—then paused. “Wait… he’s your boyfriend?”
It was the first time Fu Changxun had introduced him that way to someone familiar. The novelty of it made him smile. “Yup. I’m in a relationship now.”
The girl’s face lit up with a tiny, sincere joy. “That’s wonderful, Dr. Fu. I wish you both happiness.”
She meant it.
Fu Changxun had once helped pull her out of a place so dark she couldn’t speak to anyone. Severe social anxiety, debilitating fear—he’d chipped away at her shell, little by little, until she could come out.
Now she could manage everyday conversations—so long as the crowd wasn’t too big.
“Be careful on your way back. Try to stay on the phone with someone from home, if you can.”
He handed her the next round of medication. “Take good care of yourself.”
The girl nodded and left quietly.
Fu Changxun poured himself another cup of water, downed it in one gulp, and slumped over his desk.
Exhausted.
Being a patient was hard enough. Being the doctor was even harder.
***
Dong Zi must’ve heard the door click shut, because he emerged from the break room and settled onto the couch beside him.
Fu Changxun was still lost in thought, frowning faintly at a stack of notes in his hand.
“What’s on your mind?” Dong Zi asked casually, half-wrapping an arm around his shoulders. “Something bothering you?”
Fu Changxun didn’t register anything strange in the gesture and murmured, a little worried, “Almost every patient I saw today had anxiety symptoms. Whether they’ve been in the game or not—every single one.”
He glanced over at Dong Zi. “Should I test your anxiety level too?”
Dong Zi: “Huh?”
Hard pass, thanks.
But Fu Changxun, firm in his belief that “we’re already here, might as well try,” went right ahead and started the test anyway.
The results were… that he was happy recently. Extremely happy, in fact. Not a trace of anxiety.
Fu Changxun looked at Dong Zi and sighed dramatically. “Ah Zi, you’re way too excitable.”
And it didn’t take a genius to figure out why he was so happy. They’d just confirmed their relationship, and last night… they’d shared a kiss. That was it. Nothing more. So why was Dong Zi acting all calm and collected on the outside when inside, he was clearly burning?
Dong Zi bowed his head in shame. “I tried to stay calm… but that part, I just couldn’t help.”
Fu Changxun stood, took a couple of steps, then suddenly turned around, leaned in close, and asked, “Want another kiss?”
“I mean, I could—” Dong Zi barely got the words out before Xiao Xiao mumbled something from the bed.
Both adults froze.
No further movement.
Must’ve been sleep-talking.
Once the silence held, they both exhaled, only then realizing they’d held their breath in perfect sync.
“Alright, let’s go home. The three of us can’t sleep here,” Fu Changxun said softly, gently lifting her into his arms.
The break room only had a narrow single bed, and thankfully, Dong Zi also happened to be a volunteer driver tonight. After a long day, they finally headed home.
***
The days that followed settled into a rhythm: work, home, picking up the kid from school.
They lived like a normal couple. Stealing kisses when Xiao Xiao was asleep. Taking quiet walks by the lake on work-free afternoons, where few people went.
The game, for once, had been generous—granting them a two-month vacation.
But Fu Changxun, ever the realist, had already predicted they wouldn’t get to enjoy all of it.
On day twelve of the “vacation,” the Special Affairs Office’s official number came calling.
“We’ve got something urgent,” Qiu Yi said over the phone. “Can you come by ASAP?”
Fu Changxun answered without hesitation, “Got it. On our way.”
Dong Zi was already pulling a coat from the rack and draping it over his shoulders, then dashed off to get the car.
With Xiao Xiao at school, it was just the two of them. They got ready quickly—and drove even faster. Ten minutes later, they arrived.
Add two minutes for entering the building and taking the elevator, and they were standing in front of Qiu Yi—whose cup of tea from the call was still piping hot.
“Damn, that was fast!” Qiu Yi looked up. “Great. Come take a look at this email.”
They leaned in to read.
Line after line of dense English text, the general meaning of which was:
[Our players “sliver” and “i dont want to die” would like to challenge your doctor. Want to join the same instance as them? We believe Huaxia doesn’t back down from a fight.]
Fu Changxun raised an eyebrow. “Foreign players?”
Qiu Yi sighed. “Yeah. Players from U.S. are saying Huaxia dominates the individual points leaderboard, nearly half the top scorers. So they want to ‘exchange experience.’”
“Exchange experience, my ass,” Lulu scoffed. “They just want to steal from us.”
She rolled her eyes so hard they almost got stuck. “Bunch of sneaky bastards.”
Qiu Yi sighed. “Lulu. Watch your language. Your image is already hanging by a thread.”
Lulu flipped her hair, not remotely sorry. “Fine, fine. They’re sneaky bastards with ambition.”
Qiu Yi: “…Forget it.”
He turned to Fu Changxun. “So, Doctor. What do you say? Want to join a team?”
Fu Changxun didn’t even hesitate. “No. First of all, I’m not qualified to represent Huaxia yet—most of my points were dumb luck early on.”
“Second, Lulu’s right. Foreign players entering our instances will be at a disadvantage at first, but they’ll also learn our methods.”
“Third…” He chuckled. “I’m in the middle of a new relationship. Don’t really feel like diving into some backstabbing hell-instance right now.”
