The next day
Sunday
Eli barely slept.
When morning came, he took a shower and ate a bland breakfast, staring blankly at the wall as the morning sun crept through the cheap apartment blinds. He did not open the system to sign in. He did not want to.
But unfortunately it opened for him.
With a slight sound, the familiar translucent screen appeared in front of him.
[New Task Available]
A child in the Westbridge Market is lost and frightened. Help her find her way home.
Reward: no reward
Time limit: 2hr
Penalty for failure: -2000 yuan
Eli blinked.
He hesitated. After yesterday, he wasn't sure if he wanted to get involved again. But something about the girl being lost tugged at his heart. Maybe this was the system's way of offering him a second chance.
Eli quickly dressed up and got on his scooter.
Westbridge Market
The market district was busy, chaotic. Street vendors shouted over one another, scooters zipped by with inches to spare, and smells of spices, grease, and fruit filled the air. Eli asked around quietly, showing people the system's vague description.
It didn't take long.
A butcher near the back of the market pointed toward an alley beside a fabric shop.
"There's a kid who's been sitting there for over an hour," he said. "Crying her eyes out."
Eli followed the direction and found her—no older than eight, her face streaked with tears, knees scuffed, clinging to a stuffed rabbit. She looked up as Eli approached.
"Hi," he said gently, crouching. "Are you okay? Did you lose someone?"
She nodded silently, eyes wide.
"Can I help you find your mom or dad?"
She hesitated, then gave a shaky, tearful nod.
It turned out she had gotten separated in the crowd. She gave her mother's name and a nearby café where they had planned to meet. Eli took her hand and led her carefully through the crowd, asking shopkeepers and workers for clues.
Eventually, a panicked woman came rushing around a corner, eyes wide with fear—then pure relief.
"Xiaoyu!" she cried, scooping the girl into her arms. "Thank you," she gasped to Eli, nearly in tears herself. "Thank you so much. I don't know what I would've done—"
Before Eli could reply, the system buzzed quietly in his mind:
Task Completed.
No reward
Level 1: 80% complete
Eli didn't even care about the fact that there was no money.
As he watched the reunited pair walk off into the crowd, the weight on his chest seemed to lift—just a little. Helping didn't undo his mistake. But it reminded him that he could still do something good.
—-
Later That Day – A Taste of Normal
After leaving the market, Eli strolled around with his hands in his pockets, soaking up the warm afternoon sun. The air felt a bit lighter now—definitely better than it did that morning.
He walked past a street musician playing a sad tune on an old guitar. The music floated through the buildings like a memory. For a change, Eli wasn't focused on chores or money or his mistakes. He was just enjoying the moment.
Then he turned a corner and spotted a bright red poster taped to a lamppost:
ALL-YOU-CAN-EAT KARAOKE NIGHT!
Snacks, drinks, and a working mic (maybe). 50 yuan entry.
Eli blinked at it as his stomach grumbled. He checked his balance—after his task today, he could afford it without stressing out.
For once, he felt like saying yes to something beyond just getting by.
—-
Karaoke & Fried Dumplings
The karaoke spot was sandwiched between a bubble tea shop and a shabby arcade, but inside it was lit up with neon, cozy couches, and the smell of fried dumplings and cola. People were laughing, belting out pop songs that echoed everywhere, and someone was already out cold in a beanbag chair with a chicken skewer in hand.
Eli grabbed a plate and a mic, telling himself he'd just eat and listen.
But after a few songs and some cheap soda, he found himself pushed into singing an old rock ballad. His voice cracked halfway through, but everyone clapped anyway, and for the first time in a long while, Eli was laughing so hard his stomach hurt.
At one point, someone handed him a plastic crown and dubbed him King of Dumpling Rock. He wore it for the rest of the night without a care.
—
Later, as the sky deepened into a rich blue and the city lights flickered on, Eli walked home with a small box of leftover dumplings and the silly plastic crown still perched on his head.
The system was quiet. No urgent tasks. Just the sound of his footsteps and a rare, fleeting feeling of calm.
Maybe life wasn't perfect. Maybe Old Gao still weighed him down.
But tonight reminded him of something important:
He was still alive and sometimes, that was all that mattered.