As for Shen turning into a woman—I’d heard Han mention it casually once. I’d meant to visit her when I had a moment, but those days were just too packed. With everything piling up lately, the plan kept slipping away. Plus, Shen was never the outdoorsy type. She preferred staying home gaming—the ultimate homebody gamer. Our chances of meeting grew even slimmer.

We’d been friends for ages, but back then? Holidays came and went, and I’d never spot him. That guy would hole up gaming all day, refusing to budge no matter how you called. Her gaming intensity back then even outdid Long’s today… Meeting him felt like pure luck.

Old Shen had a mild-mannered vibe. Whenever he spoke, he’d hold a calm, direct gaze—steady enough to make others squirm. So at KFC, when Xiao Ling talked to me, her tone felt oddly familiar… like someone I knew.

But I’m not great at making friends either. Aside from Long and a few others who’ve… undergone changes, I barely have female friends. So I never connected the dots.

I held my phone, silent for a long moment.

Words failed me. After weighing my reply carefully, I typed:

“…Holy crap.”

A Mysterious Woman: “Ugh… don’t ask.”

A Mysterious Woman: “Where are you? I’m at X High watching Han shoot hoops.”

A Mysterious Woman: “Honestly, Han’s seriously gorgeous now…”

A Mysterious Woman: “Think I should seize the moment…?”

A Mysterious Woman: “Hehe.jpg”

Wind of the Past: “Go for it, bro. You two could totally pull off Brokeback Mountain.”

A Mysterious Woman: “Nah. Yuri Blossom, friend.”

Wind of the Past: “…Why’d you even go to X High?”

A Mysterious Woman: “Ran into her. She was heading to play ball.”

A Mysterious Woman: “I was grabbing snacks, felt bored, so I tagged along.”

A Mysterious Woman: “Later, she’s coming with me to the electronics market for new gear. My old rig chokes during chicken dinners.”

I glanced at Grandpa. He still slept on his side, chest rising and falling slightly. He wouldn’t wake for a while.

I shot Shen a meme. Since we were both free, we fell into easy chat.

We swapped stories about *Wonderland Survival*—a game I’d played too. Fun? Absolutely. But rampant hacks were dragging down this once-iconic title.

I despise cheats. Loathe them.

Back in elementary school, I aced academics but lived for CS. I even joined a tiny local team, grinding online leagues in this small city. That game stayed with me four solid years.

Pointless. After four years of honing aim, some noob with a hack could still snipe you through walls from the T spawn.

You can’t fathom the rage a veteran FPS player feels toward cheaters.

*Wonderland Survival*’s hack scene was brutal. Even with Shen’s near-supernatural game sense and reflexes, she couldn’t beat a shameless “god.” At best, she’d dominate “demigods” through sheer skill—and luck—boasting an 80% chicken dinner rate.

No surprise. Over 2,000 hours logged. She could go pro.

We laughed about “gods” pulling epic feats: arms stretching to snipe, surviving eight hundred bullets, hovering over the map like gods, even “commanding” the poison zone and airstrikes…

Then she mentioned her period hit recently. Cramps had her writhing in bed.

Two former guys now chatting about periods. I hadn’t transformed, and I knew little about it—but we laughed anyway.

After thirty minutes of texting, I looked up. Grandpa had woken. He lay silent, eyes fixed on the ceiling, letting out a soft sigh.

I wrapped up fast: “Catch you later—something came up.” Pocketing my phone, I leaned close with a smile. “Grandpa, you’re awake.”

He turned his head, blinked in surprise, then smiled. “Ah, Xiao Lu’s here.”

I nodded, lifting the tea packet on the bedside table. “Rushed over today—forgot the water heater. Next time I’ll bring it. Don’t worry about feeding me. I don’t live on instant noodles, and it’s not expensive anyway.”

Grandpa just smiled, saying nothing.

Near noon, he sat up slowly after resting, gazed out the window. “Let’s get some air.”

Weather was perfect. I helped him carefully into the wheelchair, took the elevator down, and wheeled him outside.

Winter had quietly passed. Mild sun, light layers—just right. I pushed him through the hospital grounds. He stayed quiet. Sunlight dappled his wrinkled face through the leaves.

Softly, he murmured:

“Let’s go beyond the hospital gates. I’m tired of this place… When I asked for air, that young nurse scowled, dumped me downstairs in this chair, glued to her phone. Wouldn’t even let me past the gate…”

I nodded. “Don’t worry, Grandpa. That nurse? I’ll give her a piece of my mind.”

He chuckled weakly. “Don’t bother. Kids these days…”

I smiled—but made a mental note: next visit, slip her a hundred bucks. Might not fix everything, but it’s better than nothing.

At the gate, laughter echoed behind us. Grandpa turned his head. A group of middle schoolers passed—short sleeves despite early spring chill, bouncing a ball, arms slung over shoulders, grinning and joking.

Grandpa watched them silently, his head following their path.

I stood quietly behind him.

We both stared until they vanished around the corner, laughter fading into the distance.

After a long pause, Grandpa sighed with a faint smile. “Life… really is short.”

I kept my eyes on the alley where they’d disappeared.

Then I said softly:

“Grandpa, hear me out—no offense meant. People come and go. We won’t have many more visits. I’ve saved a bit these past two years. Not much, but I can manage ten thousand.

If there’s anything you want—food, travel, a wish… just say it. Xiao Lu will make it happen.”

Grandpa fell silent, thoughtful.

I pushed the chair slowly forward, waiting.

Wheelchairs are heavy—iron frames. I remembered struggling to fold it into my trunk that day.

But now? My hands felt almost weightless. One nudge, and it’d roll away.

After a long silence, Grandpa finally spoke:

“But… I really want to ride a roller coaster…”

My face twitched.

I stared at his frail, birdlike frame, seriously weighing the idea—

Then panic flickered. After a beat, I forced a smile. “…How about something else? Anything else?”

“Something else…” His enthusiasm dimmed. He tilted his head, lost in thought again.

Regret hit me hard. *Why did I even say that?*

But the words were out. I just waited.