"Chen Mo, why haven't you come to work these two days? The station manager's been blowing up your phone. He was grumbling about docking your pay yesterday—I thought something happened to you."
Old Wang clapped Chen Mo on the shoulder. The thick calluses on his palm brushed against Chen Mo's faded delivery uniform, his tone full of genuine concern.
Chen Mo was lowering his head to zip up his delivery uniform. The moment his fingers touched the cold metal slider, he froze abruptly. His eyes dimmed in an instant, his fingertips tightening unconsciously until his knuckles turned white. The surrounding noise seemed to be separated by an invisible film; only the bone-chilling memory of his breakup surged up.
It was twelve thousand yuan he'd saved up for a whole year. He'd cut out all snacks and drinks. Even when the elderly scavenger who'd adopted him passed away, he hadn't been willing to spend money on a can of nutrition supplements. He'd scraped together every penny to buy a simple gold necklace for Liu Manqi's twenty-fifth birthday.
He'd specially ironed his only decent shirt, arrived half an hour early at the reserved Western restaurant, and sat by the window. He stroked the velvet necklace box over and over, his heart brimming with expectation. He even pictured Liu Manqi covering her mouth in surprise, a faint smile tugging at his lips.
But after waiting an hour, what showed up was Liu Manqi arm in arm with Zhang Haoyu, walking in with a bright smile. Zhang Haoyu's arm rested on Liu Manqi's waist, his eyes filled with undisguised provocation. When he glanced at Chen Mo, there was nothing but contempt.
Liu Manqi's smile froze the second she saw him. She walked straight to the table, her voice cold and disgusted: "Chen Mo, what are you doing? Trying to buy me off with a lousy gold necklace? Do you know what Haoyu's getting me? The latest limited-edition luxury bag, and a premium game pod for Star Era—one point two million yuan. You'll never earn that delivering takeout your whole life."
Zhang Haoyu held Liu Manqi tighter and scoffed: "Chen Mo, I'll be honest. You and Manqi are from two different worlds. Stop being a toad trying to swallow a swan and ruining her future."
Liu Manqi chimed in, her eyes dripping with disdain: "And that 'help from a noble contact' I told you about? He can get me a high-paying job. What about you? All you can do is deliver takeout. We're breaking up. Keep the necklace—I don't want it."
She deliberately hid the fact that Su Yutong had anonymously helped him pay his tuition fees back then. Every word stabbed at his pain points, grinding his self-respect into the dirt.
Chen Mo was struck dumb. The necklace box slipped from his hand with a crack. The gold necklace rolled out, glinting harshly under the restaurant lights like needles pricking his eyes. He watched the pair walk away in each other's arms, his throat tight as if blocked. He couldn't say a word. In the end, he squatted down, picked up the necklace, and stumbled out of the restaurant. Cold wind poured down his throat, and tears blurred his vision.
"Chen Mo? Chen Mo? You spacing out?"
Old Wang's call pulled Chen Mo back to reality. He jolted awake, raised a hand to rub his reddened eyes, took a deep breath, and forced down the bitterness in his chest. He shook his head, his voice hoarse: "Nothing. Just some family stuff."
Afraid to say more, Chen Mo slung his delivery box over his shoulder and hurried out of the delivery station. As soon as he got on his creaking electric scooter, he was bombarded by ads for Star Era.
On the giant LED screens by the road, hyper-realistic CG trailers looped nonstop: warriors slicing through mountains with swords, mages conjuring lightning in their palms, monsters roaring deafeningly. One line stood out: Virtual currency convertible to real cash 1:1. Earn just by logging in. Change your life. Posters covered bus stops, subway entrances, even the tin signs of corner stores in the urban village. A group of kids clustered around the posters, chattering about whether buying a headset would make their parents rich. His phone kept popping up launch reminders, and short videos were flooded with "newbie guides" and "f2p wins big"—it felt like the entire Jiangcheng, even the whole world, was going crazy over this mysterious online game.
Annoyed, Chen Mo twisted the throttle and zipped through the streets. But a thought crept into his mind: If he could afford the 128,000-yuan standard headset, could he change his lousy fate? Stop being looked down on? Stop delivering takeout forever?
He squashed the thought as soon as it appeared. 128,000 yuan was an astronomical sum far beyond his reach.
At eleven o'clock that morning, Chen Mo got an order for a luxury lunch delivery to Yunding Manor, an upscale villa complex. He rode his electric scooter into the neighborhood. Seeing the detached villas and neatly trimmed greenery along the way, he felt even more embarrassed. He parked his scooter in a corner, straightened his crumpled delivery uniform, then carried the meal to the designated villa door.
He rang the doorbell. No one answered, but fierce shouting came from inside. A woman's shriek, full of hysterical collapse, pierced through the thick door: "Tell me! What exactly is your relationship with that woman? Those intimate photos on your phone, and the 5,200-yuan transfer—explain yourself!"
"Can you stop being unreasonable? Just a friend. What's wrong with sending her money?" the man snapped impatiently.
"A friend? Would you take a friend on a trip abroad? Send her messages in the middle of the night? I've suspected you for ages!"
The arguing grew louder, followed by crashing and smashing: the crisp shatter of a vase, the scrape of furniture being dragged, grating on the nerves. Chen Mo hesitated whether to leave and come back later, when the villa door was suddenly yanked open.
A woman in an elegant dress rushed out, her hair messy, eyes red, makeup smudged. She froze for a second when she saw Chen Mo at the door, then spun around and roared at the man inside: "Look what you've done! You've ruined this family!"
The man charged out too, and the pair tussled at the door. Proof of his infidelity was laid bare one by one. The woman completely broke down, turned and rushed back inside, grabbed an unopened black gift box from the table, and slammed it onto the ground.
The box crashed onto the steps outside the door, the lid popping open. A silver-and-black game headset rolled out and stopped right at Chen Mo's feet.
It was the standard Star Era headset—the 128,000-yuan one.
Seeing the headset, the woman flew into an even greater rage. She pointed at Chen Mo and snapped: "Delivery boy! Throw this piece of junk in the trash! It's annoying just looking at it! Take it now, before I call security and get you fired!"
The man waved impatiently from the side: "Hurry up and take it. Get out of here, bad luck."
Chen Mo looked at the headset at his feet, then at the furious couple. Finally, he bent down, picked it up carefully, tucked it into the inner pocket of his delivery box, covered it with a delivery bag, picked up the meal, and hurried away. He rode his electric scooter out of Yunding Manor.
His hand rested on the handlebar, but his peripheral vision kept drifting to the delivery box. His heart was a jumble of emotions. After finishing all his morning deliveries, Chen Mo took a detour to the official Star Era customer service center. He held the headset, still clinging to a sliver of hope—he wanted to return it for cash, even if he got less, it would ease his urgent needs. But when he carefully took out the headset, he saw a small scratch on the edge from hitting the steps, a faint mark that stood out sharply.
After inspecting it, the customer service agent shook his head, his voice cold and robotic: "Sir, I'm sorry. This game headset is a special product. It's bound to the account once opened and cannot be returned or exchanged. Also, your headset has scratches and no purchase receipt—it doesn't meet any refund conditions. We can't process this for you."
Those words extinguished the last spark of hope in Chen Mo's heart. He walked out of the customer service center holding the headset, feeling utterly drained, barely able to lift his hand.
At four o'clock in the afternoon, Chen Mo rode back to the delivery station to hand in his orders. As soon as he walked in, the station manager called him into the office. The manager's face was grim but not angry. He gently pushed an "unexcused absence notice" toward Chen Mo, his tone helpless: "Chen Mo, you've been absent without leave for two days. The station's rules are clear. I can't cut you any slack. According to regulations, I have to terminate you. Your last half-month's pay will be deducted as liquidated damages. I hope you understand."
Chen Mo's gaze fell on the notice, his fingertips trembling slightly. He was about to speak when the manager leaned closer and lowered his voice, a hint of hidden apology in his tone: "I know you didn't mean it. That bastard Zhang Haoyu badmouthed you to the bosses behind your back while you were gone. It's an order from above—I really can't do anything."
Those words hit Chen Mo like a rock. All his doubts vanished, leaving only icy coldness in his chest. He clenched his fists until his knuckles turned white, but said nothing. He was powerless. Even knowing the truth, he had no way to fight back.
Silently, Chen Mo took off his work badge and placed it on the table. He turned and walked out of the office, packing his belongings—a worn water cup, a change of clothes. That was all he owned at the delivery station. The moment he stepped outside, he touched his pocket. Only twenty-three yuan in cash left, cold and sharp in his hand.
Unemployed. Heartbroken. Refund failed.
Three blows pushed him to the brink of despair.
Chen Mo returned to his less-than-ten-square-meter rental room in the urban village. He pushed open the door to darkness. He set the headset on his scuffed desk and stared at the faint scratch for a long time. Finally, he walked into the bathroom and turned on the shower. Cold water poured over his head. The successive blows had left him breathless; he desperately needed this cold to calm himself down completely.
After showering, he walked out of the bathroom. The time was 5:50. He roughly dried his wet hair, took a deep breath, and thought: I can't return it anyway. What will be, will be. He raised his hand, put on the headset, and lowered it over his head.
At that exact moment, Star Era launched globally.
The inner lining of the headset fit snugly against his scalp, carrying a slight coolness. The next second, a gentle vibration spread from the top of his head throughout his body. Immediately, his consciousness was pulled into a virtual space. A stunning launch animation rushed toward him, capturing all his attention.
Clouds roiled, immortal swords tore through the starry sky. The consciousnesses of players worldwide turned into streaks of light, converging into a vast river pouring into the Star Realm. The golden game logo—Star Era—hung in midair, shining brilliantly.
The roar of magic, the snarls of monsters, the cheers of warriors intertwined, bombarding his senses. All the embarrassment, pain, and despair of reality were shut out of this virtual world. In his eyes, there was only the bizarre splendor in front of him, only this seemingly real Star Realm.
He was completely absorbed in the game's loading animation, unaware of everything outside.
In the real world, the sky over Jiangcheng suddenly darkened, clouds gathering thickly. A pale lightning bolt slashed across the sky like a sharp sword, splitting the dim canopy. Then a deafening thunderclap boomed.
The moment the lightning struck, it hit the power distribution room of the urban village dead-on. After a fierce zap of short circuit, the entire building—even the whole urban village—plunged into total darkness. Streetlights went out, apartment lights dimmed one after another. The old electricity meter box snapped and tripped. Not even the emergency light at the corner store next door had time to turn on.
Inside the rental room, it was pitch black, so dark you couldn't see your hand in front of your face.
At the exact moment the power cut out, the game headset on Chen Mo's head suddenly let out crackling short-circuit sounds. Tiny sparks flickered through the gaps in the headset, wispy white smoke curling out, faintly visible in the dark room.
But Chen Mo, immersed in the game world, knew nothing of this.