The entire world seemed to come to a standstill as Lu Bancheng’s voice reverberated in her head. Xu Wennuan could not describe what she was feeling right then. As if she was a puppet, she stood motionless and rooted to the spot.
When Lu Bancheng stopped halfway, Wu Hao, who had remained silent for a long time, stood up from the ground and bent down to pick up the cigarette pack and cigarettes that had scattered all over the floor. He held the last cigarette between his fingers, lit it, and took a puff. Through the smoke, he looked at Lu Bancheng, who still appeared to be lost in his memories, and asked, “So you’re Zero, whom she’s known for more than 10 years in the game?”
Xu Wennuan already knew the answer to the question Wu Hao asked Lu Bancheng; however, when Wu Hao suddenly and directly asked the question, she tensed up, and her heart seemed to have stopped at that moment, as if it were infinite yet forever. Subsequently, when she heard Lu Bancheng’s soft, gentle reply, his voice felt as if it was from a distant galaxy that was worlds apart from her own.
Lu Bancheng replied, “Yes.”
“Yes”…
Xu Wennuan’s heart wrenched tightly and before she could recover from the impact and shock of this word, Lu Bancheng continued. “I am Zero, or Degrees, if you prefer, the person whom she’s known for more than 10 years in the game.”
Xu Wennuan backed off a step in confusion. Subsequently, Lu Bancheng’s voice could be heard again from the courtyard. “The reason why I’m telling you this is to let you know that I am different from who you think I am. We’ve both known her for more than a decade, and I might even know her better than you. Ten years later, though, you left her. I left her, as well, but I continuously watched over her.”
“I continued to watch over her using my gamer identity in the virtual world that she didn’t know about.”
Xu Wennuan did not know whether or not she was hallucinating, but she felt a tinge of sorrow and forlorn in Lu Bancheng’s voice, as well as an indescribable sense of deep affection.
He paused for a long time before he pointedly said, “Wu Hao, this is the greatest difference between us.”
Wu Hao’s face turned ghostly pale, and his eyes were hollow. His lips moved a few times as if he wanted to say something, but no matter how hard he tried, he could not find an argument against Lu Bancheng’s claim, so he eventually remained silent. He lowered his head and furiously inhaled two puffs of smoke before turning and walking toward the door without as much as a word.
When Xu Wennuan heard his approach, she quickly regained her senses from the initial shock of Lu Bancheng’s words. She hurriedly ran over to a bamboo forest and hid herself in the pitch-black bamboo. She then saw Wu Hao’s figure exit from the door and stand outside with his head yanked up. He stared into the night sky for a moment before he left.
Xu Wennuan only crept out from the bamboo after she no longer could hear his footsteps. When she emerged, she did not quite feel like herself. She spaced out for a long time recalling how surreal the scene she’d just overheard had been. She silently pinched her palms until the stinging sensation brought back a sense of reality. Finally, she slowly turned her head and looked toward the courtyard. Lu Bancheng, whom she’d last seen leaning against the glass door, had apparently collapsed in his entrance.