Chapter 16: So You Are Here Too

Many people think college life is wonderful, with beautiful girls in white dresses and passionate boys on the basketball court. Of course, from a certain perspective, that's not wrong, but just as there are a thousand Hamlets in a thousand readers' eyes, the meaning of college varies from person to person.

There was only one class in the morning, Advertising Psychology. After class, the professor left.

A few roommates gathered around Zhao Fusheng. Wang Zhen reached out and touched his forehead: "No fever."

Giving the guy a contemptuous look for him to figure out on his own, Zhao Fusheng looked at the others: "I'm going back to the dorm. Coming?"

"Coming, coming."

Wang Zhen and Wen Yu naturally nodded in agreement.

Only Tan Kaixuan grinned: "Uh, I'm going to the library."

He was greeted by three middle fingers in unison.

But everyone could understand. After all, the secret to chasing a girl is only three points: first, persistence; second, shamelessness; third, persistent shamelessness. Having finally moved Hu Xia with a love poem, it would be truly stupid not to strike while the iron was hot.

Watching Tan Kaixuan doggedly carry Hu Xia's books, the pair heading toward the library with mutual affection, the remaining three looked at each other and honestly walked back to the dorm.

...

...

You are a whale not lonely in the sea; you sing hard but get no response, because your companions are in another, wider ocean, waiting for you to swim over.

Zhao Fusheng sometimes felt lonely, because in this world, perhaps no one but himself understood his heart.

But fortunately, he knew clearly that one day he would go where he wanted and live as he wished. But before that, if he didn't work desperately, everything he said would be in vain.

As the three just entered the dorm, the landline phone rang.

"Hello, who are you looking for?" Wang Zhen, walking in front, picked up the phone. Then he paused and nodded repeatedly: "Mm-hmm, okay, I'll get him."

He looked at Zhao Fusheng: "Old Zhao, it's for you."

Zhao Fusheng found it a bit strange—Wang Zhen's smile was too weird—but he still took the phone: "Hello, this is Zhao Fusheng."

"It's me." Fan Baobao's voice came through.

"Ah, what's up?" Feeling a little curious, Zhao Fusheng asked casually.

"I asked about that thing you wanted me to. The address is Letian Game City, No. 15 Hanjia Alley." Fan Baobao said.

Zhao Fusheng then remembered that he had asked Fan Baobao to inquire with Li Yuan about where Fan Jian had lost that fifty thousand yuan.

But hearing the address from Fan Baobao, he felt it sounded familiar, yet couldn't recall where it was.

"I see." Pushing aside the messy thoughts in his head, Zhao Fusheng said softly.

No matter what, he had to go check it out.

"Be careful." After a long silence on the other end, Fan Baobao suddenly said.

Zhao Fusheng was startled, but before he could speak, the phone was hung up.

Shaking his head with a faint smile, Zhao Fusheng laughed. This girl, still the same—tough mouth, soft heart.

Having known Fan Baobao for so many years, he knew her too well. She was famously sharp-tongued but soft-hearted, always putting on a tough act, but in reality, she was kind at heart.

Putting down the phone, Zhao Fusheng prepared to go out. This afternoon's class was an elective, and the professor definitely wouldn't take attendance, so he planned to skip it.

"Where are you going?"

Wang Zhen looked at Zhao Fusheng with a grin.

Zhao Fusheng rolled his eyes at him: "I'm not going to the afternoon elective. If the professor calls roll, cover for me."

"Oh." Hearing the seriousness in his tone, Wang Zhen didn't ask further and nodded.

Leaving the dorm, Zhao Fusheng took the bus toward the city center.

In 1999, Ninghai was not wealthy but had developed decently. As a small third- or fourth-tier city, its commercial center was clear, mainly around the department store and the commercial city.

Hanjia Alley was a lane behind the department store, famous for a Hanjia pie shop.

Zhao Fusheng's destination today was a game arcade inside Hanjia Alley.

As a post-80s kid, the Famicom and arcade machines were undoubtedly the fondest memories for many peers. The former was for home use, while the latter represented game arcades.

As a child, Zhao Fusheng loved playing too, from King of Fighters to Metal Slug, from Street Fighter to Knights of Valour. Many spent their childhoods in games, outsmarting parents and teachers, achieving the feat of clearing a game with a single coin—Zhao Fusheng had done it too back then.

The golden age of arcade machines was the early 1990s. Some arcade owners introduced new gambling machines from abroad, Hong Kong, and Taiwan, using them for gambling to attract customers. During this period, the line between gaming and gambling machines was not so clear.

Gambling machines quickly brought huge profits, and participants increased like flies drawn to filth. As they proliferated, their harm became evident. With more gamblers, more families were ruined. Victims like the Fan family were not few. In Zhao Fusheng's memory, starting around 2005 or 2006, the state cracked down on such gambling machines, and within a few years, they were completely eliminated.

Now, in Ninghai, gambling machines were thriving.

Getting off the bus, Zhao Fusheng walked into Hanjia Alley. He had worried about finding the arcade, but as soon as he entered the alley, he saw a large sign not far away—Letian Game City.

Taking a deep breath, Zhao Fusheng walked in.

As he entered, he saw a dozen arcade machines with a few students playing. There was another room inside with several machines, all occupied by adults. At the door of that room, three or four burly men sat or stood.

Frowning slightly, Zhao Fusheng deliberately walked inside, but was stopped at the door.

"Hey, hey, who are you looking for?" The man blocking him had triangular eyes and clearly wasn't a good sort.

"I'm looking for your boss." Zhao Fusheng said calmly.

In fact, if he were truly twenty years old, he might not have had this courage. But with a real mental age beyond forty, he faced these thugs fearlessly.

Age and experience bring not only vision and tolerance but also presence.

Hearing Zhao Fusheng's words, the triangular-eyed man seemed surprised. Just then, a man with long hair and a snake tattoo on his arm came out of the room. The moment he saw Zhao Fusheng, he froze.

"It's you!" The tattooed man recognized Zhao Fusheng and charged straight at him.

But after a few steps, as if remembering something, he stopped, standing three or four steps away, and barked with bluster: "What are you doing here?"

Zhao Fusheng looked and immediately laughed. Wasn't this the unlucky guy he had beaten up at his doorstep the other day for pushing his mother down?

"I'm here to see your boss and ask how much Uncle Fan owes." Zhao Fusheng said to the tattooed man.

He really wasn't here to cause trouble today, and he didn't plan to. After all, a bet is a bet. Since Fan Jian lost, repaying the debt for him was only right.

One of Zhao Fusheng's guiding principles was fairness.

As for how he would plan revenge on these people after paying the money, that was a later matter—one thing at a time.

Zhao Fusheng thought of himself as an upright person.

"Didn't I tell you? Fifty thousand." The tattooed man said, then reached out to stop the triangular-eyed man and whispered, "Brother Zhang, this kid can fight. Seems like he's studied martial arts."

The triangular-eyed man was taken aback. He knew the tattooed man's skills—he was one of the toughest in their small gang. But a few days ago, when they went to collect a debt, he came back bruised and battered. Was it this young man who did it?

As they spoke, three more people came out from inside, led by a fat man. When Zhao Fusheng's eyes fell on a young man behind the fat man, he was stunned.

"Why is he here?" A big question mark formed in Zhao Fusheng's mind.