Wang Huiwen hit Enter.
"Brother Xing, get ready to restart the server. It’ll probably crash in three seconds again..."
Before he could finish, Wang Huiwen’s words caught in his throat.
The stress-testing tool’s progress bar didn’t freeze like before. Instead, at a speed almost imperceptible to the naked eye, it filled up in an instant.
The screen was filled with green.
Wang Xing shot up straight, his chair groaning under the sudden strain.
He stared intently at the summarized results of the stress test.
Requests Completed: 500.
Failures: 0.
Average Response Time: 3 milliseconds.
Wang Xing thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. He turned to look at the server’s system resource monitor.
During the instant of the stress test, the CPU usage had only blipped to 8% before quickly dropping back to 1%.
The server’s fans hadn’t even had time to spin up before the queries were complete.
The room was so quiet you could only hear the faint hum of the server case.
"Brother Xing..."
Beside him, Wang Huiwen swallowed hard, his hand trembling as he pointed at the screen.
"What’s happening? Did it not even hit the database?"
"It didn’t touch the database."
Wang Xing’s voice grew hoarse. He stared at the snippet of C code, finally comprehending the terrifying mathematical logic it contained.
’This isn’t querying data.’
’It’s performing a dimensional reduction calculation on the entire user relationship network, directly in memory.’
Wang Xing’s fingers tingled. He switched back to the MSN chat window, his fingers flying across the keyboard so fast he didn’t even bother to correct the typos he was making.
"Old Chu! Who wrote this core logic?!"
Wang Xing spammed the "Nudge" window three times.
"This is pure goddamn graph theory and advanced linear algebra! It completely bypasses the database and offloads the work to the CPU and memory for vector calculations!"
Wang Xing’s heart was hammering in his chest.
"Don’t tell me you thought of this. Do you have an algorithm team from the Chinese Academy of Sciences backing you up? Or did you get some big shot from Silicon Valley who works on search engines to help?"
Back in the small-town internet cafe.
Chu Ge watched the string of exclamation points and frantically shaking windows from Wang Xing pop up on his screen. A wide, arrogant grin spread across his weary face.
He picked up the cheap pack of cigarettes he’d had a friend buy for him, pulled one out, and stuck it between his lips.
Chu Ge flicked his ash into an empty instant noodle bowl. He rested his hands on the greasy keyboard and, unhurriedly, typed out a single line before hitting Enter.
"No team."
"Just my roommate. He happens to be home for winter break. I gave him a call a minute ago and he worked it out."
After sending the message, Chu Ge paused, then decided to twist the knife.
"Oh, right. He’s twelve. His mom is probably calling him to eat dumplings as we speak."
On the other end of MSN, Wang Xing’s avatar went completely still.
A full five minutes passed.
Then, a string of ellipses appeared from Wang Xing.
Followed by a single sentence.
"Old Chu, if the investors’ money comes through tomorrow, I’ll give you five percent equity. As for your roommate... can we bring him onto the team as a technical consultant? He can name any price he wants."
Chu Ge chuckled as he read the message.
’Forget it.’
Chu Ge typed his reply.
"You really think a god-tier master like him would be a consultant for a ragtag operation like ours? Just consider these few lines of code my New Year’s gift to you. I’m logging off. Going to bed."
Chu Ge decisively logged out of MSN.
The air in the internet cafe was still thick and stale. The guys at the next station, who had paid for an all-nighter, were already slumped over their keyboards, snoring softly.
Chu Ge stood up and gave a huge stretch, his joints popping satisfyingly.
He walked to the counter to pay his bill, then pushed open the internet cafe’s glass door.
A blast of frigid wind hit him square in the face, instantly sweeping away the clinging stench of smoke and the internet cafe’s unique funk of greasy hair.
The sky was already beginning to lighten with the dawn.
On the morning of the third day of the Lunar New Year, the streets were cold and deserted. The ground was littered with the red paper remnants of last night’s firecrackers, their color stark and glaring against the patchy snow.
Chu Ge popped the collar of his old military greatcoat and shoved his hands in his pockets.
He walked down the chilly street, his breath fogging in the air.
This was the eve of an era of explosive growth.
Some pulled all-nighters around card tables, while others stared at computer screens until their eyes were bloodshot.
’And the person who had actually pointed them toward the light, what was he doing right now?’
Chu Ge couldn’t help but smile. Treading on the paper scraps, he headed back toward his guesthouse.
「At the same time.」
Zeyang City, Sunshine Family Courtyard.
The TV in the Chen Family’s living room was on, replaying last night’s Spring Festival Gala.
Feng Gong’s famous line, "I’ve missed you all to death!" echoed through the room.
Steam billowed from the kitchen.
"Xiaozhuo! Stop dawdling in the living room and go wash your hands!"
Liu Xiuying emerged from the kitchen carrying two plates of freshly cooked dumplings, her face blurred by the rising steam.
"Dumplings on the first day, noodles on the second... Today we’re having pickled cabbage and pork dumplings! Come on, eat them while they’re hot! They’ll get sticky and gross if you wait."
Chen Jianguo sat down at the dining table with a few cloves of garlic and a bottle of dark vinegar.
"Coming!"
Chen Zhuo called out in response and went to the bathroom to turn on the faucet.
The matrices, vectors, and high-dimensional spatial mappings that had just been flashing through his mind vanished the moment he heard Liu Xiuying’s call to eat dumplings, washed away as easily as soap suds down a drain.
The internet, six degrees of separation—none of it mattered.
On this snowy third morning of the New Year, with the scent of vinegar in the air, nothing was more real or important than the plate of steaming pickled cabbage dumplings on the table.
Chen Zhuo dried his hands and sat down at the table.
"Mom, can you pour me some vinegar?"
Chen Zhuo pushed his small porcelain dipping dish forward, his tone filled with the casual entitlement unique to a twelve-year-old boy.
Liu Xiuying picked up the vinegar bottle and filled his dish halfway.
"Dumplings without garlic lose half their flavor. Peel it yourself."
Chen Jianguo tossed two cloves of garlic in front of Chen Zhuo.
Chen Zhuo picked up a clove. With a firm squeeze between his thumb and forefinger, the papery skin CRACKED open.
Sunlight streamed in through the glass of the balcony door, illuminating Chen Zhuo’s fine, jade-like features.
Everything felt so peaceful, so perfectly ordinary.

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