Chapter 53
Jiang Jitang had a lot to say about his job.
“You’d never guess what kind of deliveries I’ve made. Have you ever harvested wheat? Seen a golden wheat field?” His eyes sparkled, filled with excitement and something like longing.
These were things he would never reveal in front of others. Yet right now, the words slipped out naturally, and even he didn’t notice anything strange.
Or maybe he did notice something strange… but couldn’t stop himself.
“Are you happy?” Parsons didn’t ask why he took a job that most people saw as unstable and unreliable. He only asked: “Are you happy?”
Jiang Jitang’s smile deepened. “Happy. It’s fun, it’s interesting. What about you? What’s your job?”
“Gaming companion.” Parsons said.
It was truly unexpected. Parsons, of all people—someone who looked so old-world, so traditional, like he wouldn’t touch online games at all—actually made money by playing games with people?
But thinking about it, his responsible personality and long experience dealing with “problem children” made him surprisingly good for helping new players.
“Do you like your job?” Jiang Jitang asked.
“I only do it to survive.” Parsons drank a sip of water, his brows tightening slightly. He clearly didn’t want to elaborate.
Alright then. Looked like he didn’t like it much.
“Life has all kinds of flavors—sour, sweet, bitter, spicy, salty.” As he spoke, the server arrived with a pitcher of iced soy milk. Jiang Jitang poured two cups, picked up one, and tapped it against Parsons’. “A toast to life.”
A courier and a gaming companion—two freelancers rejected by mainstream society.
Funny, when you think about it.
Soon, the ingredients and a bubbling mini hotpot were brought over. The pot was only the size of an instant-noodle cup, plugged in at the bottom with adjustable heat.
“If you need more broth, just call us,” the server said, checking something off the order slip before leaving.
This hotpot place always added original broth—tomato broth to tomato pots, spicy lamb broth to spicy lamb pots. It was one reason the place had remained popular for years.
“Do you want a dipping sauce?” Jiang Jitang stood up. “The sauce bar is over there.”
Parsons wasn’t very familiar with C-Nation’s classic hotpot culture. His teacher had only briefly told him about general national culinary habits.
But he knew every region had its own specialty, and hotpot was no exception. So he decided to just follow along.
Two tall, handsome guys—just sitting they drew attention. Standing, they drew even more. When they walked across the hall, Jiang Jitang even heard the sound of someone taking a photo. But as long as they didn’t shove a camera into his face, he couldn’t care less.
“Sesame oil, vinegar, white sesame, minced garlic—garlic kills bacteria—oyster sauce… oyster sauce ‘cools the heat.’ Add scallions, and you can put a little cilantro if you want.” He introduced his “mystical dipping-sauce recipe.”
He obviously just liked the taste, yet still had to justify it with health nonsense—garlic kills bacteria, oyster sauce cools the body…
And Parsons believed him. He listened seriously and memorized every word.
“Excuse me!” Suddenly three or four people squeezed into the tiny sauce bar. Before Jiang Jitang could step aside, Parsons suddenly braced a hand against the wall, shielding him completely from them.
Suddenly, there was only one wall and one person’s breath surrounding him. Even the air stopped flowing. He could even hear the rapid heartbeat behind him.
The mage was being fully body-shielded by a warrior!
Every hair on Jiang Jitang’s body stood up—like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.
The people squeezing in looked up only to see Parsons towering over them, green eyes cold like glazed porcelain. He didn’t do anything, yet they still felt a flash of hostility pass over them.
Never having faced such sharp presence directly, they panicked and stumbled back—one even fell to the floor.
“S-sorry,” the person blurted automatically.
Once Parsons confirmed that Jiang Jitang was unharmed, he withdrew his hand. It was nothing but a reflex born from countless combat encounters.
He protected him—nothing more. It had nothing to do with whatever their relationship was.
The air began to move again, and Jiang Jitang’s personal bubble slowly dispersed. After a few seconds of stiffness, he shook out his hands and pretended to be calm.
That scared him to death. Mages who hated close-combat all had trauma reactions! But since it was Parsons…
As soon as he regained his feeling of safety, he began analyzing Parsons’ reaction.
It felt like someone who had lived long-term in high-risk environments, developing a habit of immediate vigilance whenever strangers approached. Was the Western continent really that dangerous?
“Gaming companion…” Jiang Jitang repeated in his mind. What exactly was this gaming companion for? What kind of game?
The pot was boiling, the dipping sauces done, so now it was time to cook the food.
Jiang Jitang already picked up lamb slices, but Parsons was still hesitating. The table was filled with ingredients they had ordered—meats, vegetables—but Parsons didn’t know where to start.
“First put the meats in. They enrich and flavor the broth. Then vegetables. Last are the finishing items that absorb broth—fried tofu, potato slices, thick noodles, mushrooms.
“Fried dough sticks also absorb broth, but the late-stage broth gets too rich. I prefer eating them early.
“Oh, and this black fish fillet—this is for you. Tomato broth without fish fillets is a waste.”
Seeing Parsons staring at the food without moving, Jiang Jitang tried to hold back… but failed.
He pushed the plate of water-starch-coated fish fillets toward Parsons, then—unable to trust him—took the fillets and cooked them himself, placing the perfectly done pieces into a small porcelain bowl. “This doesn’t need sauce. It’s good on its own.”
Tomato broth needed fish fillet—the tangy tomato perfectly brought out the smooth freshness of black fish.
Call it bossy if you want. He couldn’t tolerate someone eating it wrong.
Parsons tried it. The salty-tart broth coated the tender, silky fish. Fresh, hot, without a trace of fishiness.
One piece, two pieces, three pieces—he finished the whole bowl. The subtle happiness and comfort food brought seeped slowly into his body, thawing the coldness inside.
“It’s very good.” Parsons’ low voice carried a soft aftertaste.
He didn’t know why Jiang Jitang had invited him to dinner. But the single thin layer of shell he used as emotional armor was being seen through.
This damned mage—when he tried to tempt someone, who could escape?
Lost in his thoughts, Parsons didn’t notice the black dragon sword practically drooling.
Two years. Two whole years! Did anyone know what it had lived through?
Following an owner with dead taste buds meant starving three times a day. Meanwhile, Illman’s sword next door got honey yogurt! Now this hotpot! And meat—so much meat!
All delicious!
Parsons didn’t notice, but Jiang Jitang did. Remembering the golden-eyed creature that had also been drooling earlier, he said with a smile, “Let’s pack some to-go when we leave.”
Following his gaze, Parsons finally noticed the sword on his hand almost dripping saliva.
“…No need.”
“?!!!” The sword felt struck by lightning.
“Little Golden Eye has to eat anyway.” Jiang Jitang rotated the dark-gold bracelet on his wrist. “What does it like?”
“MEAT!” The sword couldn’t hold back anymore, shouting in public.
“Alright.” Jiang Jitang smiled gently. “Then let’s add two more beef rolls… hmm, do you want shrimp dumplings? Fish balls are good too. Let’s just order them all.”
“Yes yes yes! All of them! And more fish fillet!” Overwhelmed by enemy kindness, the sword nearly forgot its hatred from almost being broken.
Parsons looked at Jiang Jitang, then at the sword that had defected instantly. The whole situation felt surreal.
Who was the one earlier saying, “Don’t fall for the enemy’s sweet tricks”?
Who got bribed by food that wasn’t even packed yet?
Who?
“Are you learning C-Nation language? Studying alone is bad. You should hang out with locals. You’ll pick it up naturally.” Jiang Jitang said as he eyed the tomato pot.
Parsons froze. “How do you know I’m studying C-Nation language?”
“A guess. A good one, right?” In truth, it was his textbook-like, overly formal hundred-character replies that gave him away instantly.
“I’m interested in C-Nation culture.” Parsons tried to cover it up.
“Yes yes, everything you say is right.” Jiang Jitang used his ultimate perfunctory move and stole more fish fillet while at it.
Parsons: …He suddenly didn’t know whether to explain or to give up.
He would go back and continue studying. One day he would figure out what locals kept laughing at.
After finishing a perfect hotpot meal—and packing an extra portion—the total cost hit triple digits.
“Prices went up? No wonder college students keep crying about living expenses.” Jiang Jitang pulled out his phone, but someone was quicker.
Well then. He’d barely been in the country a few days and already learned to grab the bill.
“Come again next time.” The server watched them leave with a mysterious smile.
“Next time—shall we eat our way across C-Nation?” At the corner, Jiang Jitang waved at Parsons, holding the box of uneaten pastries he’d been given earlier.
Even the pastry shop knew him now. Parsons’ trip to C-Nation was indeed fruitful—learning the language, eating the food, and now apparently agreeing to eat everything in the country before leaving…
He’d never escape the borders at this rate.
Plan successful.
“…” Parsons turned his head, sensing something off.
When he looked, Jiang Jitang smiled even more warmly.
“Language needs environment. Don’t stay in your hotel alone. Make use of resources. For example—locals. Or… locals.”
People passing by stared. The guy was basically pointing at himself. So bold?
“…I’ll think about it.” Parsons said. Odd how he was the one wanting to hide his face, when the shameless one was clearly the other side.
“Think?” Jiang Jitang raised a brow, doubting that word expressed the right meaning.
“Okay.” Parsons immediately corrected himself.
Good. That was better.
Looked like Parsons truly planned to stay long-term in C-Nation, in Jin City. Given his habits, he would probably buy his own place.
If he could control his life that freely, then he definitely had the ability to support himself.
Did ordinary gaming companions have that kind of money?
Don’t say it was inherited—Parsons wasn’t too proud to refuse inheritance, but he wasn’t the type to blow through family money either. Unless he earned it himself.
‘You haven’t even figured me out, yet I’ve already seen right through you.’
As soon as Parsons’ electric scooter left his sight, Jiang Jitang called his assistant, Sister Xia. “Hello, this is Illman.” That was his code name here. Anyone inside the system hearing it would know who he was. If they didn’t—that was a problem.
“Hello, Mr. Jiang. I’m your dedicated assistant, Xia Jiamei.” She replied professionally.
“In Cube World—among famous players—do you see anyone named Parsons? Spelled P-A-R… Parsons.”
“One moment,” she said. After a few seconds, she returned. “Parsons. Founder of private player organization ‘LFE.’ They run the ‘Search for Ilmi’ project, known domestically as the ‘Secret-Seeker’ group.
“Hm? I also see a note—they and their team are currently in our city… Mr. Jiang? Comrade Jiang?”
“Ah, okay. Thank you.” Jiang Jitang came back to himself. He didn’t even know how he answered or hung up.
“He really has been looking for me this whole time? Is he stupid?”
All his mischievous excitement felt like it had been struck by a straight punch named sincerity.
[“Percy—if, I mean if, I did something extremely terrible to you, something so awful you could absolutely never forgive… what would you do?”
“Find you. And ask for your explanation.”
“My dear Knight Commander—something you truly cannot forgive.”
“I’d still find you. We’re friends. You would never truly hurt me.”
“Terrifying. Then I’d have to hide somewhere you can never find.”]
I died. Isn’t that hidden well enough? How did you still find me?
Jiang Jitang laughed—and then fell silent. The emotions swelling in his chest refused to settle.
Moments he had buried deep, unwilling to acknowledge, burst out uncontrollably.
He even remembered the last thing he saw before he died. It wasn’t his homeland. It was another ruin. A ruin of buildings—and a ruin of everything from the past.
In every lifetime, many people were drawn to him. And he handled them easily.
Not because he had special skills. Simply because he didn’t care. He had nothing to lose. “Losing” meant nothing to someone with nothing.
But… he didn’t actually have nothing.
He stared at his own trembling hands. Not only his hands—his whole body felt strange and uneasy. His heart was the cause.
It was beating too fast.
Thump, thump, thump—like it would burst out of his chest.
“Ilma.”
The voice behind him pierced through time, as if dragging him back to scenes repeated countless times in the past. Jiang Jitang turned around before he could adjust his expression, letting the other man see all the confusion on his face.
A look Parsons never imagined could appear on someone always confident, always sure of himself.
Like someone lost far away, unable to find the road home.
With a loud crash, the mint-green electric scooter fell over, and Parsons snapped back to reality.
“I…” He didn’t know what to say. Should he say he suddenly had a strange instinct, telling him to turn around immediately? He’d sound insane.
“I left something here.” He finally said.
“I thought you’d never call me Ilmi again.” After all that emotion, Jiang Jitang turned it into a smile.
Parsons fell silent too. He also thought he’d never speak that intimate nickname again. Looked like hatred had fooled everyone—except himself.
Bitterness washed through him as he faced the truth: His whole search had never been driven by anger or disappointment.
It was because he couldn’t accept being abandoned.
Past and present—the issues between them were like cliffs impossible to cross. The unspoken emotions flowed quietly as diners passed by, glancing curiously at the two tall men standing frozen.
“I—”
“I—”
They spoke at the same time and then stopped.
Finally, Jiang Jitang spoke first.
“Next time… what do you want to eat?”
He refused to look back. His pride told him he had to always be right, never regret or hesitate. So was it okay to look forward instead?
In this life, things were different. He had the ability to love and be loved. He wouldn’t reject everything out of fear of losing again.
If he lost it—he would take it back.
“You decide.” The same answer that had appeared countless times before. Maybe it wasn’t Jiang Jitang’s bossiness about pairing food with sauces—but Parsons willingly giving up the right to choose.
A beast retracting its claws and fangs, showing its undefended belly. Wasn’t that another form of trapping?
The moment the words left his mouth, Parsons saw light bloom across Jiang Jitang’s face. His eyes shone—like stars falling into them.
“Then it’s decided.” He beamed.
