Lin Cheng was a twenty-year-old unemployed drifter who occasionally filled in as a resident singer at bars and set up a flower stall during holidays.
Lin Cheng pulled out his phone and logged into the Alliance’s privileged website for a quick look. That was his citizen profile, listing his education as a high school dropout. At that moment, he and Litchi were sitting in Parliament Hall. Litchi sat in front of him with her arms crossed over her chest, her milky-white slender legs crossed, clad in white silk stockings no thicker than 15D, swaying gently.
Summer seemed to be right around the corner. He suddenly wanted some ice cream.
Lin Cheng held his phone in front of Litchi. “How do you pronounce this word?”
“Ee—high school dropout.”
“No wonder you’re a college student! So cultured.” Lin Cheng set the phone aside for now and glanced at the permissions table. “Can you add ‘poet’ to my profile? I think I could be a poet.”
“Just log into your main account and edit it yourself.”
“My main account got canceled when I retired.” Lin Cheng spread his hands helplessly. “Or bump up my education level. I was just one year short of finishing high school. Isn’t this education discrimination?”
“. . .”
Litchi ignored the man spouting nonsense in front of her. She sneered at his deliberate clowning. “Wait till Grape Sis finishes up and gets here. I hope you’re still this lively then.”
“. . .”
Lin Cheng fell silent. He picked up the coffee on the table and took a sip. The next second, his eyebrows furrowed. “So bitter!”
“Super strong black.” Litchi said flatly.
“Bitter, bitter, bitter! Got any sugar?”
“Nope.”
“Then why’s yours a milk coffee?”
“I like milk coffee.”
“I want yours.”
“I’ve already drunk from it.”
“Don’t mind.” Lin Cheng grabbed her coffee cup and took a sip. His furrowed brows relaxed instantly. Litchi took a deep breath as she watched him bite down on her straw, clenching her little fist.
Patience, Litchi. Patience.
“Hmm, so sweet.” Lin Cheng nibbled the straw and blinked at Litchi. “Tastes like litchi.”
Litchi took a deep breath. “Can you stop saying all this cringy stuff every day, Boss?! Surfing the internet too much has made you even more off-putting!!”
“. . . Don’t you think it’s funny?”
“Heh.” Litchi sneered. “Should I keep laughing?”
“It really tastes like litchi.” Lin Cheng said innocently.
“I added litchi.” Litchi replied coolly.
“Then why call it cringy?”
“I just feel like the litchi you’re talking about isn’t the same as the one I added.”
“How’s it not? Litchi is litchi. It’s my favorite fruit.” Lin Cheng set down the coffee cup. “Alright, time for business. No flirting with the boss during work hours, got it? Next time it’ll be a pay cut.”
Litchi lifted her white-silk-clad leg and kicked at him. But Lin Cheng caught her ankle firmly in his hand. “Heh, that sneak attack stopped working on me a year ago.”
The moment he released it, her other white-silk leg came flying. This time, Lin Cheng didn’t block it and took a solid kick. Litchi had used very light force, but he exaggeratedly bared his teeth and grimaced like it hurt badly.
Litchi withdrew her leg and finally picked up the remote. She turned on the large screen in the conference room and pulled up footage from the 31st Floor Casino in the building.
“This woman is Xu Wanyue, an Adjudicator from the Alliance. Seven days ago, she showed up at our casino and started on the slot machines with just twenty bucks. She won her way up to 100,000, then hit the tables—baccarat, Texas Hold’em, blackjack, dice, roulette. She kept winning, never lost once. In just seven days, our casino’s net losses have hit thirty million. The experts we brought in couldn’t beat her, and no one could spot her cheating tricks. . . Because of the rules, we can’t kick her out.”
Lin Cheng turned his gaze to the big screen and studied it seriously for a good ten seconds or so. Litchi leaned in a bit closer. “Spot anything, Boss?”
“Such short hot pants! Such white legs—with a leg garter! She’s gone too far! Girls these days dress way too provocatively! We must condemn this!”
Litchi reached out and knocked a chestnut on Lin Cheng’s head. “Did you actually notice anything?”
“Nope.” Lin Cheng shook his head. “She’s not cheating.”
“Impossible.” Litchi bit her lip lightly. “The odds of winning like that on pure luck are less than one in ten million.”
“No big deal. Maybe she really is that lucky?” Lin Cheng smiled wryly.
“Let her keep being lucky, then. Just wait till your monthly five-thousand allowance shrinks to five hundred.”
“Tonight, I’ll go meet her myself. The title of Rose Street Little Gambling God isn’t for nothing.”
“You’d better.” Litchi muttered discontentedly. Then her phone rang. After taking the call, she glanced at Lin Cheng. “You’re lucky. Grape Sis has something come up and won’t make it today.”
“What is it?”
“Heretic energy fluctuations popped up in neighboring K City. Per our deal, we have to help the Alliance out once more this month.”
“Oh.” Lin Cheng nodded. “So can I head out? I’ll come back tonight.”
Litchi smiled. “No can do.”
“Why?” Lin Cheng looked at her innocently. “I got a gaming session lined up.”
“Grape Sis might not be here, but she specifically told me to check your head and hear what you said to that woman last night. . . So, no moving.”
Litchi stepped right up to him. Lin Cheng was pinned to his chair, unable to budge. She reached out, her soft white palm gently cradling his head. Right in front of him was the girl’s slightly swollen chest, her delicate collarbone peeking through her sheer blouse. She carried a faint floral scent—Lin Cheng vaguely remembered the brand. It was a forty-buck street knockoff he’d bought her last year for her birthday. Fake perfume, but it smelled nice.
But soon, Lin Cheng felt a wave of drowsiness. His eyelids grew heavy. Before long, his body slumped into Litchi’s arms. She gently held his head, letting his cheek rest against her bosom. She bit her lip lightly and began reading his memories.
This was her ability as a psychic system ability user.
The story began on a rainy evening.
As a twenty-year-old unemployed drifter, Lin Cheng had just wrapped up his flower stall for the day. The last unsold white rose was tucked into his shirt pocket. He parked his motorcycle at the street corner, locked it, and walked into this new bar on Rose Street.
The bar had two sections: the nightclub and the chill lounge. Lin Cheng usually skipped the nightclub—that was for the young party crowd, not very welcoming to a skinny gaming nerd like him. So he headed to the lounge, sat at the bar, and quietly ordered a drink.
Couples filled the bar. Lin Cheng counted for an hour: eighteen pairs came and went. He and his white rose stood out as the lone loners.
The story’s heroine appeared at eleven at night. She wore a white blouse and pleated skirt, black ankle boots, and her jet-black hair tied with a big red butterfly ribbon—like an innocent high school girl.
Lin Cheng was fooled by her outfit. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have approached after she’d gotten thoroughly drunk alone. He stood before her, gazing into her hazy, drunken eyes. “Wanna see a magic trick?”
Lu Xiaoxiao looked up. The man in the clean white shirt had deep, gentle eyes. They drew her in for a moment. Then she asked on instinct, “Magic?”
“Watch closely.”
Lin Cheng clasped his hands together. Moments later, a white rose, damp from the rain, appeared in his empty palms. He placed it on Lu Xiaoxiao’s table. “Free gift.”
“How’d you do it?”
“The point of magic isn’t figuring it out—it’s the wonder.”
“Oh, okay. Thanks. Bye.” Lu Xiaoxiao looked away.
“A rose sells for fifteen bucks. Chatting five minutes for a free one isn’t bad, right?”
“You said it was free.”
“The best things are.” Lin Cheng pulled out the chair opposite her and sat, studying her eyes. “Bad mood?”
“Something like that.” Lu Xiaoxiao replied offhandedly.
“Let me guess. . . Breakup?”
“Nope.”
“Fight with your bestie?”
“No. Last chance.”
“Give me a hint.” Lin Cheng smiled helplessly. Lu Xiaoxiao turned away, clearly not interested.
“Anyway, brooding alone is boring. Why not chat with a stranger? Odds of seeing each other again tomorrow are slim.”
Lu Xiaoxiao turned back. The man’s voice and expression were unexpectedly gentle, disarming her defenses somehow. Her lashes lowered as she spoke in a low voice. “Tell me: A madman ties five innocent people to a trolley track. An out-of-control trolley is barreling toward them, about to crush them. Luckily, you can pull a lever to divert it to another track. But here’s the catch—the madman has one person tied there too. Would you pull the lever?”
Lu Xiaoxiao stared straight at Lin Cheng. He didn’t hesitate or pause. “I wouldn’t.”
“Why?”
“What does the madman’s murder spree have to do with me? I’m just an innocent trolley driver.” Lin Cheng’s voice was soft. But it clearly wasn’t the answer Lu Xiaoxiao wanted. She lowered her head, staring at the flickering candle on the table.
“Day before yesterday morning, there was a major fire in the city.”
“I heard. Some ability user crime. It’s all over the net.” Lin Cheng followed her lead.
“That ability user was an antisocial psychopathic killer. He’d already murdered nearly a thousand people. When we arrived, he set a building ablaze to create chaos and escape. . . I chose to save people. They chose to chase the perp. I rescued over a hundred from that building, but. . . because I wasn’t there, they failed to catch him. He got away again.”
Lin Cheng picked up the wine bottle from the table and naturally poured half a glass into the empty one he’d brought over. “Until that perp’s caught, who knows if he’ll kill more? But those hundred-plus you saved—they’re living, breathing lives. A scalpel can save or kill. It all depends on the choice.”
“I’ve been suspended by the Alliance.” Lu Xiaoxiao stared at Lin Cheng. “Did I do wrong?”
“Right and wrong. . . Isn’t that for you to decide?” Lin Cheng sipped from his glass, gazing gently into her eyes. “If the you who made that choice back then felt it was right, why ask me?”
“I want to know if you think I was wrong.”
“If I were you, I’d have made the same call. If you’re hurting over that choice now, imagine time rewinding to that day—another chance. Would you still save them?”
Lu Xiaoxiao froze. The inferno seemed to blaze before her eyes again. The candle flickered on the table. Lin Cheng poured wine into her glass.
“You’d still choose to save them. Because. . . you heard it, right? Someone was crying.”
