486.
I never imagined the word “open-and-shut” would one day be applied to me.
— A word, used to describe… a closet door.

 

487.
No one will ever know what flashed through my mind in that instant when the closet door opened and before it closed again.
It was like a magical heavenly path.
A little train, with a piercing whistle, carried with it the 18 martial arts skills (NT: a traditional reference symbolizing a wide range of skills or abilities) and the 72 transformations (NT: from the classic Journey to the West, where the Monkey King masters 72 transformation techniques), charging forward with thunderous majesty, crushing the little figure called “reason” under its wheels and trampling it endlessly.
On either side of the train were strings of carriages, sometimes lined up in the shape of a “1,” sometimes in the shape of a “0.”
The scene was so grand, so magnificent.
So much so that at that moment, I felt like I had entered a state of wisdom—my mind calm, without a ripple.

 

488.
As if!

 

489.
Life is actually so short—
You close your eyes, don’t open them again, and a whole lifetime has already passed.
A closet door opens, and whether it closes or not, you can never go back.

490.
I watched Gu Yiliang darting around the house without pause, one moment booting up his computer to play games, the next shifting chairs around in the study, washing fruit, fetching drinks, even calling up friends to borrow an account—
—Meanwhile, inside my heart a torrential storm was raging, fiercer than the day Concubine Qi was beaten to death with rods (NT: a fictional character in the novel Empresses in the Palace / The Legend of Zhen Huan), but it never touched him at all.
He finished doing everything he could, nearly turning the study into a full-blown internet café, then sat down properly at the computer, opened a browser, and began looking up item guides for champions—studying them with more seriousness than he would while preparing a lecture plan.
And not once did he glance in my direction.

 

491.
But why?!
He had whipped up a storm to sweep me away, then sent crashing waves—and now just left me hanging?!
The two of us! This is too unfair! Love and hate—all in his control!
I’m crying tears of blood and agony! Every word I write is carved from pain!

 

492.
When he lowered his eyes to look at me earlier, I even had the illusion of hearing the sound of a lock clicking shut—clear, pleasing, striking right against my heart.
Ah, my lock—shiny (gesticulating), so small, so delicate, so pretty—and yet it hadn’t even had time to warm in my palm before he snatched it up and tossed it into the river, letting it drift away!
Why was he so cruel?!
No, I had to demand an explanation.
Otherwise, before the game even began, my state of mind would already be half destroyed.

 

493.
Conflicted, I sat down beside him, trying to appear casual, and gently opened the conversation: “… Why don’t you play DOTA?”
The moment I spoke, his stiff posture suddenly relaxed, his eyes lit up, and he hurriedly responded, cutting off the end of my words: “Playing LOL is the same, they’re both MOBA games, basically the same thing. I just want to play what you like, don’t worry. I’ve also played LOL for a while, I’m not that bad.”
Why did he seem so concerned that I was talking to him?
I looked at him, a little surprised: “Oh… okay, then next time let’s play DOTA together, I’ll learn.”
His eyes lit up even more, and Wangwang nodded vigorously: “Mm, mm!” (NT: wāng wāng is an onomatopoeia for a dog’s bark.)

 

494.
Something felt off.
What did he mean by saying he wanted to play what I liked? What was that supposed to be? Would a straight guy say something like that? Even I wouldn’t say something like that! Was he really straight, or just playing dumb?
Had there been a misunderstanding earlier?
Thinking of this made my feelings even more tangled, so I chose my words carefully and cautiously probed the waters: “Actually, if someday there’s an opportunity in front of you, hmm, where you could come with me—climb to the top together, and create a bright future…”
Seeing Gu Yiliang’s serious expression, my heart tightened and I slowed my tone: “… What would you choose?”
No sooner had I finished my words than he replied immediately, all seriousness:
“You mean ranked games? In that case, I’d pick Kha’Zix as jungle—I’m really good with Kha’Zix.” (NT: a highly mobile, stealth assassin champion in LOL.)

 

495.
Me, adjusting my expression and preparing to gently embrace him:
“………………………………”

 

496.
I withdraw!
This retreat will last a lifetime!

 

497.
My state of mind completely collapsed—like an avalanche, like a poorly funded cartoon falling apart.
I stared blankly at Gu Yiliang.
He looked back at me with eyes that said: “You trust me so much, you really want to play ranked with me, I’m so happy” and “Was my answer perfect? Please, praise me, praise me!”
And he even had the nerve to smile faintly.

 

498.
I suppressed the pain in my heart and the trembling of my lips, then forced a faint smile.
Wait for me—I’ll turn evil. I’ll wear heavy black eyeliner and blood-red lipstick, I’ll sit alone in a room and grin wickedly at a bronze mirror, I’ll let the wide sleeve of my robe brush across half my face before shifting expressions, my pupils reflecting no light, and when I appear there will be strange, intense background music.

 

499.
The game finished updating. We both logged into our accounts, and with a clang, we were thrown into a match.
We banned and picked champions while happily chatting about funny gaming stories, how we’d perform in tomorrow night’s show, and our recent work schedules.
Gu Yiliang handed me snacks within reach, I passed him the drink within mine, and we smiled at each other.
It really was the picture of a loving couple—like newlyweds in perfect harmony.

 

500.
While the game was loading, Gu Yiliang winked at me and said playfully: “It’s been so long since I last played LOL. If I don’t play well, you won’t scold me, right?”
I gently pinched his cheek, a kind smile on my face: “Don’t worry, I’m a zen player.”
He smiled softly and patted me on the head.

 

501.
The match began.
At the 12th minute—

Me: “Gu Yiliang, I told you to go mid, didn’t you understand? Why are you still standing there, waiting for someone to save you?”
Me: “Gu Yiliang, do you even know how to use your skills? Can your little hands press R? Is it really that hard?! RRRRR!”
Me: “Gu Yiliang, you’re completely out of your mind—why are you running there alone, are you trying to kill ten people at once?! Back immediately!”
Me: “Gu Yiliang, group up! Why are you wandering in the jungle—are you sightseeing, picking out souvenirs?”
Me: “Gu Yiliang, if you don’t save me this time, go sacrifice yourself at Baron to apologize!”
Me: “Gu Yiliang, why are you waiting until next year to use your skill? Did you tie your fingers into a Chinese knot or what?!”
Me: “Gu Yiliang——”

 

502.
Gu Yiliang: “…Zen?”
Amidst the enemy crowd, I charged through, killed three, and saved an ally. I answered calmly:
“Yes. A fighting Buddha.”

 

503.
My gaze was fierce and menacing, like a wolf or a tiger, locked onto the enemy champions.
Ezreal—the name has a Yi (伊)? Kill him! Hunt him down! Don’t let him leave the fountain!
Master Yi—also has a Yi (易)? Kill him! Track him down! Don’t let him set foot in the jungle!
Nunu & Willump—their skills look too frosty? Kill them! Let them be swept away like a snowstorm!
Malzahar—dressed in tacky purple? Kill him! Strip him of helm and armor as he flees!
Jayce—looks like a straight guy? Kill him! Make him run for his life!

My fingers flew across the keyboard, my mouse clicked furiously—I had lost all reason, drunk on bloodlust.

I blame you—for flirting indiscriminately!
I blame you—for being a Schrödinger’s straight!
I blame you—for singing Make You Feel My Love to me!
I blame you—for holding me so tightly without letting go!
I blame you—for sowing confusion!
I blame you—for stammering when you talk!
I blame you—for wanting to duo-queue with me!
I blame you—for picking Kha’Zix and playing like a god, damn it!
I blame you for—

 

504.
…We won.

505.
I watched the enemy base explode, crushed the empty cola can beside me, relaxed and relieved. Then I turned and asked Gu Yiliang: “Wanna go again?”
Gu Yiliang stayed quiet for a while, then carefully took the empty can from my hands: “…I’ll go get a new bottle.”

[Yiliang’s Diary – Paragraph 4]
He really was angry. If it had been me, I would have felt embarrassed too, and then I would’ve gotten angry.
It was my fault—I hadn’t prepared his mindset properly.
How should I have handled this? Jumping on a train without a ticket wasn’t right.
But he didn’t even give me the chance to buy a ticket…
The truth is, I still don’t want to—no, I really don’t want to turn our relationship into a mere transaction of benefits.
Sigh. Until I figure out a solution to this problem, I can only try to be a little nicer to him, to make up for it.

 

506.
Gu Yiliang had said he was going to fetch a can of cola, but he must’ve gone all the way to the Pacific Ocean, because he didn’t come back for a long while.
I leaned back in my swivel chair, looked up at the ceiling, rocking from one side of the desk to the other, lost in thought.
Had I been a bit too harsh just now?

 

507.
I really couldn’t figure him out—sometimes he was as black-hearted as ink, and sometimes weaker than a paramecium.
He was everything one could possibly want, and the only flaw he had was being too attractive. Without even realizing it, he’d flirt, then bolt—running so fast, leaving everyone else in the dust.
When I thought about how I’d been charmed by a paramecium and ended up bouncing like a fool between the doors of the closet, it made me angry.
I let out a long sigh.
And then suddenly, right in the middle of the sigh, I froze.
Hmm.
Was flirting really a flaw?
When I was charmed by him, I… actually felt pretty happy, didn’t I?
It was like an electric current ran through me, a little lightbulb flickering on in my head, and I smacked myself on the forehead—
I hadn’t really lost, had I?

 

508.
I clapped my palm.
Let him flirt however he likes—it’s not as if he’s the only one who knows how to flirt!
If he dared flirt with me again, I’d just give him an answer that was even stronger, even more explosive!
Come on then—let’s do business flirting, let’s act affectionate, let’s have fun together!

 

509.
The background music of Happy Landlord (NT: a popular card game) looped endlessly in my mind, as I cheerfully plotted how to melt Gu Yiliang’s happy beans (NT: “beans” both means affection points and in-game rewards), when suddenly, a cold cola can pressed against my cheek.
I glanced at my computer screen and saw Gu Yiliang standing behind me, the corners of his lips curled in a smile.
It was happening! A super double kill! My whole body jolted—I spun around and blurted immediately: “Double!”

 

510.
Him: “…?”
Me: “…”
Me: “…That’s it, that’s the right call. So, uh, where am I sleeping tonight?”
Him: “…You wanted to sleep with me?”

 

511.
A master! A king of the game! Fa ge! This round, I totally lost!

(NT: Fa Ge 发哥, “Brother Fa,” is a respectful nickname for Chow Yun-fat, a hugely popular Hong Kong actor.)

 

--

Author’s Note:
A pair of twos! A pair of twos! The “two” from playing cards!
(In some regions, it’s pronounced duì dì?)
(NT: Normally the number 2 in Mandarin is pronounced èr, not dì.)

 

Translator : DarNan