“Xu Ge.”
When Sun Xiaohui arrived at the convenience store, she was already jogging up to him after getting off work.
“This time you’re really off work, right?” Xu Bei asked with a smile.
“Mm.” Under the streetlight, Sun Xiaohui’s smile was bright and full of happiness.
But she was holding a large bag, inside which seemed to be a box of some square-shaped items.
“What’s that?” Xu Bei asked.
“Hehe, you’ll find out when we get home.” Sun Xiaohui chuckled lightly.
“So mysterious? Is it a midnight snack?” Xu Bei finally pulled his hand out of his pocket and scratched his bangs.
“Xu Ge, do you want to eat a midnight snack?” Sun Xiaohui asked thoughtfully.
“No, let’s go home. It’s not safe at night.” Xu Bei shook his arm free from his pocket, trying to act cool.
Sun Xiaohui understood his hint; her expression turned a bit shy, but she slipped her hand through his and gently linked her arm with his, happily heading home together.
Anyone daring enough to walk at night was bound to be bombarded with their PDA, a pure display of disgusting love.
Back downstairs at the rental apartment, Xu Bei glanced up and noticed the neighbor, Sang Biao, was already gone—probably returned to her room.
“What’s wrong?” Sun Xiaohui saw the doubt in Xu Bei’s eyes.
“Are you familiar with the neighbor next door? Do you know what kind of person she is?” Xu Bei asked.
“Miss Sang? She…” Sun Xiaohui was about to say something.
“Don’t you think ‘Sang Biao’ is a weird name?” Xu Bei cut in first.
“Uh~ it is a bit strange. But my name isn’t any better, so I’m not qualified to judge.” Sun Xiaohui responded softly.
“Looks like you don’t understand at all.” Xu Bei began to analyze seriously: “Sang Biao is a street name, definitely not her real one. It’s like those ‘hot girls’ in your class who lie about having handsome boyfriends.”
“Ah? Miss Sang isn’t really called Sang Biao?” Sun Xiaohui exclaimed.
“Seems you haven’t noticed anything off about your neighbor. Do you really think someone would name their daughter Sang Biao?” Xu Bei realized he had wasted his question.
“Is there something wrong with Miss Sang? She’s pretty nice and lets me use her microwave every day.” Sun Xiaohui said.
“She’s a good person now, but maybe not in the past. She might be like me, just hiding out to avoid some old debts. People like that usually don’t want to cause trouble, so just don’t upset the neighbor if you can help it.” Xu Bei earnestly warned.
“I understand.” Sun Xiaohui nodded resolutely.
The two finished their chat at the apartment door before going inside, to avoid being overheard by neighbors.
But they were overheard anyway—because the white-haired girl, Sang Biao, wasn’t in her room.
She was hiding in the shadows behind the apartment, using her sharp hearing to eavesdrop on the young couple’s conversation.
But hearing was enough; the neighbor’s analysis was correct, and they hadn’t spoken ill of her.
That golden-haired guy understood the street rules well—though he had a loose tongue, he probably wouldn’t gossip recklessly.
“Forget it, I have no right to call him loose-lipped. It was my own fault for blabbing my identity, which made him suspicious. A lonely retired life is just too boring.” Sang Biao whispered.
She pulled on a black face mask and disappeared into the darkness.
Back in his room, leaning against the bed, Xu Bei suddenly felt much lighter.
Sun Xiaohui was busy at the desk as soon as she returned, seemingly tinkering with something.
“What are you doing?” Xu Bei asked.
“Ta-da~ Xu Ge, look.” Sun Xiaohui stepped aside, making awkward yet cute sound effects.
Xu Bei glanced at the desk. There was a sturdy laptop, looking like one of those military-grade computers designed for high-frequency calculations.
“Did you just buy this? For studying?” Xu Bei wasn’t particularly curious.
“Of course not. Who would study? I bought it to be your virtual game live streaming auxiliary machine number two.” Sun Xiaohui lifted her nose proudly.
“Virtual game live streaming auxiliary machine number two?” Xu Bei was a little confused.
Sounds like some secret government-developed mechanical weapon.
“This is something I found out while browsing during class. Actually, those professional virtual game streamers all have hidden auxiliary machines backing them up. You probably didn’t know, right?” Sun Xiaohui smiled.
“Really didn’t know. What exactly is it for?” Xu Bei rubbed his nose.
“For example, this auxiliary machine connects to your gaming helmet, so I can operate your livestream room, keep an eye on the chat. I can use a mic outside to communicate with you in real time, help you look up info and strategies.” Sun Xiaohui explained.
“Hm…” Xu Bei fell into thought.
“I can chat with you inside the game, teehee.” Sun Xiaohui kept explaining excitedly.
“If that’s the case, why didn’t you just buy a gaming helmet? You could just play with me directly.” Xu Bei asked, genuinely puzzled.
“Eh, I don’t like those shooting and fighting games and don’t know how to play. I’m afraid I’d just be a burden. But being the auxiliary machine is much easier—I just chat with you.” Sun Xiaohui already had a reason ready.
Such a thoughtful and gentle girl even moved Xu Bei deeply, making him feel respectful.
In this era, finding a girl who thinks about others is like finding gold in the mud.
But this is also part of the cause of social anxiety and autism spectrum conditions.
Some autistic people care too much about others, constantly trying to please everyone.
They keep self-criticizing, wondering if they did something wrong or if others resent them.
They isolate themselves and develop social anxiety.
“Plus, buying just one auxiliary machine is much cheaper than a gaming helmet,” Sun Xiaohui added.
“It’s my fault, I can’t find a job,” Xu Bei said, defeated by harsh reality, deeply troubled.
“Don’t say such depressing things. I don’t understand virtual games, but I can accompany you.” Sun Xiaohui smiled.
Xu Bei’s nose twitched—this time, he was truly touched.
He couldn’t find any excuse to explain her kindness, because it was innate.
Not all autistic people are gentle; the previous analysis was just an example.
There are plenty with twisted, disturbed minds, even more so.
But Xu Bei’s expression suddenly grew serious again as he said, “Xiao Sun, you’re too kind. That’s not a good thing. The internet gathers all the darkness and delights of human nature—it’s the perfect place to toughen up your innocence. Behind the screen feels safe, but it magnifies human wickedness and harshness.”
“Ah… is it really that serious?” Sun Xiaohui sounded a little scared and slightly doubtful inside.