My ‘Healing’ Game
Chapter 368 Yinghuo and the Night Sky

Chapter 368: Chapter 368 Yinghuo and the Night Sky

Staring at the search page on his smartphone screen, Han Fei’s gaze remained fixed for a long time, unable to understand why the comedian before him would search for such things.

In his view, the other party had everything he had once desired: becoming an accomplished comedian with many works loved by people and living in a spacious house where one could lie on a comfortable, soft sofa.

The man in room 4094 was the ideal self Han Fei had once fantasized about, but when he actually saw the other party, he found that the comedian was not merely unhappy but had even reached an extremely dangerous point.

"Why is this happening?"

Through their brief interaction, Han Fei could tell that the comedian was a kind, gentle person; when he came late at night holding a child, the comedian’s first thought was not of various dark matters but that the child was sick and needed help.

"He shouldn’t live like this; such a person shouldn’t end up like this!" Han Fei saw his own reflection in the comedian, repeating these words in his heart, more so to avoid swaying himself.

The smartphone on the sofa suddenly vibrated, receiving a new message.

Han Fei subconsciously touched the screen; it was a private chat.

Hard-braised Beef: "Can you get in touch with Yanzu? I’ve sent him many messages and made many calls, but he hasn’t replied."

Hard-braised Beef: "He deleted everything from his Moments. When I clicked on it to look, there was just a blank space."

Hard-braised Beef: "Are you there? Yinghuo? You’ve been showing up less and less recently, don’t scare me!"

The person named Hard-braised Beef sent several messages in succession, and the comedian, who was still busy in the bedroom, only then heard the vibrating sound and hurried out.

After reading the messages on the phone, the young man immediately made a call, but there was no answer from the other end.

He called several times back-to-back, with only the beeping busy tone on the other end; no one answered, and no one hung up, as if calling into an invisible black hole.

"Why won’t you answer the phone? Didn’t we agree?"

The young man’s calm had completely vanished from his face, and while Han Fei didn’t know who was on the other end, he could feel the young man’s anxiety and restlessness.

Opening the group chat, the young man privately messaged a large number of people and finally received a reply.

Upon reading the reply, he stood in the middle of the living room, maintaining his posture, motionless, eyes fixed on the screen.

It was only after a long while, when Han Fei came over and saw the content on the phone, that he reacted.

Forcing a strained smile on his face, he didn’t hide the phone’s content, just spoke with a somewhat forlorn expression: "A friend of mine has passed away."

"Passed away?"

The young man glanced at the night sky outside the window: "Went there."

Seemly exhausting all his energy with those words, his already weary body slumped onto the sofa like a tattered burlap sack.

Lifting the thin blanket, he appeared to be searching for the medicine bottles that he had put in the bedroom, or perhaps he was using it to cover up his slightly trembling fingers.

The black smartphone lit up with a soft glow again, with messages streaming in. The young man, in front of Han Fei, opened those messages.

The man showed a completely different demeanor and replied seriously to each one. At last, he clicked open a group chat called Happiness Residential Community and looked at a profile picture that would never light up again. He wanted to say something, but he couldn’t type any words.

Hard-braised Beef: "@everyone, it has just been confirmed that the youngest child in our group left us three hours ago. His account data will be kept by Yinghuo, as before."

A day full of laughter: "Yanzu is gone? Are you sure? Did you confirm it at the hospital? He was the most cheerful kid in our group. The doctor had said his recovery was going very well! We had even promised to team up next time we went online to take on players from foreign servers!"

Fish Drinking Water: "Just the morning before yesterday, that kid showed me his homework that he had done so conscientiously. He said he was ready to go back to school, didn’t he?"

Watching the scrolling messages on the screen, the young man finally typed a few words.

Yinghuo: "It’s true, I got in touch with his stepfather. Unfortunately, I couldn’t persuade him to reconcile with his son until the very end, I’m sorry."

Hard-braised Beef: "Why are you apologizing? You don’t need to apologize to anyone!"

Fish Drinking Water: "We all feel terrible, but let’s not let our emotions take over. Everyone, remember to take your medication on time. If his stepfather really doesn’t want to accept Yanzu’s account, then we’ll follow the rules and give it to Yinghuo."

A day full of laughter: "Thank you for your hard work, Yinghuo."

A string of account usernames and passwords was sent to the young man’s phone. He stared at the username for a long time and then booted up his computer to log into a social platform’s virtual game with the child’s account.

The game was of a farming and management style. The boy’s in-game avatar was tall and muscular, strikingly handsome, with the username ’Yanzu of Xinhu Division,’ but in reality, he was small and skinny, often bullied, frequently slandered, and not skilled in interacting or dealing with various relationships.

His farm in the game had not been tended for a long time. His last login was half a year ago.

This game required a social platform account to log in, and was fully linked with social accounts. It documented all sorts of traces a person left online. Inside there was a Memory Projection Room, Book of Joy, Sadness Emotion Processing Station, and more.

Controlling the avatar walking around the room, the only premium item in Yanzu’s cottage was a huge rare-level photo frame. Inside the frame was a group photo with dozens of people, all in-game avatars, except some had turned grey.

Looking at the group photo, the young man slowly lowered his head and averted his gaze.

Coming up to the young man, Han Fei gently patted his back.

The man’s head was now too heavy to lift. He leaned on the table with both hands, suppressing the lump in his throat, and tried to speak in an even tone, "I met this kid in a healing-type game. That Happiness Residential Community chat group mostly consists of patients, gathered together for various reasons, to cheer each other on and to hold fast, but many profile pictures never light up again."

"Did you create that group?"

"It was handed to me by an elder who has passed away. I am now the sole Manager." The young man was an extremely talented actor. Controlling one’s emotions is an actor’s basic skill. When he lifted his head again, his face revealed little of the pain he felt; he tried his best to project a veneer of positivity, even though he was deeply wounded inside.

He took out a notebook from a locked drawer and slowly turned its pages. Each page contained different usernames and passwords. He turned the pages very slowly, as if the thin sheets of paper were extremely heavy.

Finding a blank page, he carefully recorded the boy’s username and password. He double-checked it three times, ensuring there were no mistakes before he put the notebook back in the drawer.

"I really didn’t expect that kid to leave us so soon." The young man stared blankly at the boy’s virtual game character. The child’s virtual account, along with all memories, remained unclaimed—a living person who ultimately left behind just these: "He was clearly the most cheerful and optimistic person in the group, always encouraging everyone, posting about his positive changes on social media..."

"But no matter how well one plays the part of an optimist, it doesn’t bring happiness."

Han Fei didn’t understand why he said that either. He didn’t even know whom the words were for—perhaps for the boy who had left, perhaps for the young man, or perhaps for himself.