"Huh?"
Chen Huai'an was completely stunned.
Wait—they really delivered it?!
Was this how hardcore indie developers were these days?
And come on, this game had to be run by hackers, right? What more proof did he need? They just opened a portal to reality and delivered the in-game item straight to his door!
Any normal person would be scared out of their mind.
But Chen Huai'an? He wasn't scared.
His life was already forfeit—what was there to be afraid of?
"Oi! I know you guys are hiding in the stairwell! Come out and talk! This game is too much of a cash grab—can't you tone it down? I'm broke, okay?!"
He shouted into the dark corridor.
His voice echoed through the stairwell.
No response.
"Tch, whatever." He clicked his tongue and slammed the door shut.
He knew these "hackers" wouldn't actually show up. The yelling was just to test the waters.
"Well then, let's see what this is all about."
He plopped onto the couch and began unboxing the package, curiosity piqued. If they'd gone to the trouble of custom-delivering an in-game item, that meant they took this game very seriously. So the quality of the gift must be impressive, right?
Inside the box was a square-shaped sachet, kind of like a traditional incense pouch.
The craftsmanship was delicate. But when he flipped it over—
He couldn't help but twitch the corner of his mouth.
Written vertically in traditional characters were the words:
Chen Huai'an
And just below that:
Peace and Safety.
Clearly a protective charm.
But the handwriting…
Chen Huai'an was sure he could write better than this when he was in elementary school.
This looked like something a dog had scribbled with its paw.
All the fine craftsmanship—ruined by those hideous strokes.
"Okay, but… what's inside?"
He tried opening the pouch, but the fabric was tougher than expected—he couldn't rip it open.
So, to get a clue, he brought it up to his nose and took a whiff.
And then—
A subtle, elegant fragrance slipped into his nostrils.
It wasn't sweet or heavy.
It was gentle, refined, comforting—like a girl quietly whispering her thoughts from far away.
He couldn't even describe what it smelled like exactly,
but somehow, Li Qingran's face popped into his mind.
And the strangest thing?
He got the feeling that this was exactly what she smelled like.
"What… the hell?"
Chen Huai'an was shocked.
A game that could reproduce smell to this level?
He'd heard of games that sent players physical items—
his roommate in college once got a "limited edition" pair of stockings from some waifu game.
But those just smelled like cheap perfume—no depth, no emotion.
This was completely different.
He sniffed it again in a few different poses—
and each time, Li Qingran appeared in his mind's eye.
Even when he pulled up his teacher's photo from his saved folder to test—
Still Li Qingran.
"Incredible!"
He slapped his thigh.
"Bro, if you have this kind of tech, why are you even making scammy gacha games?! Launch a perfume line already and print money!"
In the end, he kept the charm on him.
No particular reason—just…
It really felt like Li Qingran made it with her own hands.
---
By mid-morning, Chen Huai'an had wrapped up all his preparations.
He found a random barbershop near the hospital and shaved his head.
Posted his cancer diagnosis front and center on his livestream profile.
Even got a doctor to help him shoot a motivational vlog.
Then he gritted his teeth and threw 1,000 yuan into promotion.
For lunch, he had some dry mixed noodles.
And in the afternoon—he boarded a plane to Mount Tai.
His livestream profile was bold and dramatic:
Youth has no price. Life comes only once.
My name is Chen Huai'an, and I have late-stage cancer.
In the days I have left, I'll spit in Fate's face, laugh at Death, and challenge the limits of my dying body.
Today's challenge: Climb Mount Tai in five hours.
By the time he arrived at the foot of the mountain, it was already 7 PM.
His goal: Start climbing at midnight.
If all went well, he'd reach the summit in time to see the sunrise.
It wasn't about money.
He had no idea if this would go viral.
But climbing Mount Tai with advanced cancer? That's not something people saw every day.
His legs were in agony.
Both ankles were completely swollen. Wearing shoes hurt like hell.
Walking even a little felt like being stabbed in the bones.
Let alone climbing a damn mountain.
So he found a bench and laid down for three hours.
At around 10 PM, fully rested, Chen Huai'an pulled out his phone again.
First thing: Check on Li Qingran.
She was awake now, meditating on the bed.
The dishes had been cleaned.
A basket of fruit sat beside them, mostly untouched.
All stuff he'd sent her through the game today.
She was really trying her best.
So should he.
His nerves calmed just by looking at her.
He took a deep breath, smirked, and launched his livestream.
The vlog he posted earlier had started gaining traction.
Even tonight's stream already had over 100 scheduled viewers.
Not much compared to seasoned streamers,
but for him? That was huge.
"How do we know you really have cancer? You could be faking it for sympathy and cash."
"Climbing Mount Tai in five hours with terminal cancer? And you've got bone cancer?! Bro, at least lie logically."
"LOL. So fake."
Just as he expected.
Barely a few minutes in, the chat was full of doubts and mockery.
Chen Huai'an didn't say a word.
He calmly pushed out another round of promotion.
When the view count broke into the hundreds—he finally spoke.
"Hi, I'm Chen Huai'an. I have late-stage cancer, and I'll be climbing Mount Tai in five hours, live, unedited. My profile has all my diagnosis records, receipts, and test results. If you think the docs are fake, feel free to contact the hospital. I welcome any fact-checking."
Then he flipped the camera—
pointing it at his legs.
He rolled up his pant legs, took off his socks and shoes.
His ankles were swollen beyond recognition, covered in red, burn-like lumps.
He pulled the pants up higher—the swelling reached his knees.
"As you can see, my body's falling apart. Every step sends waves of pain through my nerves."
He turned the camera back,
rubbed his shaved head,
and gave a carefree smile:
"But I'll prove myself. I'll stomp on this disease, laugh at Fate's impotence, and flip Death the bird. And when the sun rises—I hope you'll all be there with me."
Diagnosis documents.
Swollen, blistered legs.
His shaved head.
And that unshakable smile—
Four deadly weapons.
The livestream chat?
Dead silent.