Chapter 25: The First Computer

The deafening cheers erupted all around, and the citizens who had been waiting atop nearby rooftops instantly ignited fireworks. The crowds in the street bounced and cheered like fans at a rock festival, waving their bright red flags with wild abandon.

Very soon, the scene descended into a state of pure revelry.

Chen Wan was more excited than anyone, hopping and skipping, her little hands turning red from clapping.

Li Mu felt a bit dizzy, but he still cracked open a can of beer and downed it in one gulp. It was the first time since his rebirth that he could drink so freely, and the sensation was exhilarating.

Whether it was excitement or something else, Chen Wan suddenly hugged Li Mu from behind, leaping up in a burst of enthusiasm to ride piggyback on him, letting out a thrilled scream.

Carrying such a delicate beauty on his back, Li Mu could even feel the softness and pressure from her chest. At that moment, Zhang Kexuan tossed his cigarette butt to the ground and shouted to his buddies, “Damn it, pass out the beer!”

Afraid she might slip, Li Mu supported one of Chen Wan’s long legs with one hand, while his other hand joined Zhang Kexuan and the others in pulling out cans of beer and handing them to passing strangers, barely looking up as he reached for the next one.

Chen Wan was excited, but at least she hadn’t been drinking. Sitting astride Li Mu’s back, she quickly realized something was off.

Her body was pressed tightly against his, and his hand was supporting the outer side of her right thigh. Since she was wearing athletic shorts that day, his hand rested directly on her smooth, fair skin.

Fortunately, Li Mu had no ulterior motives—he was just holding her steady, nothing more.

His palm was warm on her leg, and the humid weather left his hand slightly damp. Chen Wan felt flustered, her heart pounding like a startled fawn.

Luckily, Li Mu was busy handing out beers, as were Zhang Kexuan and the other three, so no one noticed her predicament.

Chen Wan thought about jumping down, but then considered that since no one seemed to notice, by tomorrow it would all be forgotten. After all, in the midst of such wild celebration, who would remember? Even Li Mu probably wouldn’t recall it.

She gently rested her chin on the back of Li Mu’s head, breathing in the not-so-pleasant scent of his hair mousse, and whispered almost inaudibly, “You rascal, if only you were three years older, or I three years younger…”

At that moment, Li Mu had just pulled out a can of beer, ready to hand it to a passerby, when Chen Wan’s words reached his ears. He was stunned for a split second, then hurriedly shoved the beer into the hands of someone walking by, mumbling deliberately, “We won the Olympic bid—let’s raise a toast!”

He hadn’t realized the passerby was actually a police officer.

Li Mu had thrust the beer into the officer’s arms, and the man, caught off guard, hesitated before taking it. Glancing around to see no one was paying attention, the officer popped it open and downed it in a few quick gulps.

Police officers are people too—they want to celebrate with the nation.

In that moment, Li Mu wasn’t so drunk as to be incoherent, but the atmosphere around him stirred a rare sense of abandon. He drank and celebrated with the crowd, losing track of when Chen Wan slipped off his back or how much he’d drunk. All he knew was that everyone kept drinking until the middle of the night, his head pounding fit to split. Chen Wan ended up driving him somewhere, helping him walk, opening door after door until he collapsed into a nest of softness.

…

When Li Mu woke, the pain in his head made him wince, but after a moment, the ache subsided.

He was lying on a huge Simmons bed, the mattress luxuriously comfortable. The decor around him was more like a lavish bedroom than any hotel suite.

He sat up and, seeing he was still fully clothed, opened the door to step out.

Beyond the door stretched a long corridor. At the far end, a shaft of light revealed a graceful wooden staircase leading down to a vast, opulent living room.

Descending the stairs, Li Mu took in the full grandeur of the space—not just a living room, but an open-plan kitchen as well, every detail exuding the aura of a mansion.

At that moment, a woman at the kitchen bar looked up, her cheeks flushed with a mix of shyness and excitement as she said, “You’re awake!”

It was Chen Wan.

“Wan-jie, where are we?” Li Mu asked.

“My home,” Chen Wan replied. “In Jinling. But I don’t live here often.”

“Oh…” Li Mu nodded. He’d always known Chen Wan was the very definition of a wealthy, beautiful socialite, but the more he got to know her, the more he realized she was truly in a league of her own.

Chen Wan walked over with a steaming mug of milk and handed it to him. “Drink this, then have some bread.”

Obediently, Li Mu finished the milk in one go—it was just what he needed for his thirst—then ate several slices of buttered bread to fill his stomach.

His cheap digital watch showed it was already half past eleven in the morning.

He soon learned that the revelry had lasted until after one in the morning, but he and Zhang Kexuan’s group had left early because they’d all had too much to drink.

Li Mu nodded. “I should find Zhang-ge to pay him back for my share of the beer.”

“It wasn’t much,” Chen Wan waved her hand. “Don’t bother today. If he sees you now, do you think you’d get away?”

“You’ve got a point.”

After a moment’s thought, Li Mu said, “Wan-jie, later could you come with me to buy a laptop? Then let’s head back to Haizhou.”

“Of course,” Chen Wan agreed without hesitation. Recalling how Li Mu had given the rights to his song 'Li Bai' to her cousin’s band, she couldn’t help but feel it was a bit of a loss. “Selling your song to them just like that—it seems a shame.”

“It’s fine,” Li Mu replied breezily. “If I really want to write songs, there’ll be plenty more and even better ones in the future.”

Chen Wan was left speechless, murmuring, “Little Mu, you’re amazing…”

…

Even in Jinling’s largest electronics mall, there wasn’t much truly good equipment to be found at that time.

Most laptops were mid-range models costing around ten thousand yuan, with poor performance. The latest classic IBM T23 wasn’t available in Jinling yet—probably not anywhere in the country, not until early next year at least.

The T20 model, released the previous year, still cost nearly twenty thousand for the highest configuration.

A craftsman must first sharpen his tools; frequenting internet cafes was just too inconvenient. So, gritting his teeth, Li Mu bought a laptop.

With that, Li Mu finally owned his first computer since his rebirth. He also purchased a modem—what people called a “cat” in those days.

In 2001, Haizhou had no private broadband service. Setting up an internet connection at home was impossible; the only option was dial-up via a phone line. The speed was abysmal and the price steep—just surfing the web cost several yuan per hour. But something was better than nothing. Even after buying the computer, Li Mu still had sixty thousand yuan left, so the cost of internet access was trivial.

After their shopping trip, the two finally drove back to Haizhou. This time, Li Mu didn’t drive; the effects of alcohol still lingered, so he was better off as a passenger.

Fortunately, after seeing Li Mu’s driving style, Chen Wan had relaxed and opened up herself. It took them just over three hours to make it back to Haizhou, which was acceptable for Li Mu.

Chen Wan dropped Li Mu off at the entrance to his neighborhood. As he was about to leave, she called out, “Hey, don’t rush off.”

“What is it?” Li Mu turned back, curiosity on his face.

She said, “Now that you’ve got your laptop, give me your QQ number. Also, aren’t you getting a cell phone? It’d be easier for me to reach you.”

“I will,” Li Mu laughed. “But I need to figure out how to explain the expense to my parents first, so I don’t shock them.”

Chen Wan was puzzled. “Just tell them the truth!”

Li Mu frowned slightly. If he told his parents he’d written a piece of software and made a lot of money, they’d wonder when he’d become so skilled with computers. His family didn’t even own a computer, not even a basic learning device. It just wouldn’t add up.

But if he said he’d written a song and sold it, while they’d be surprised, at least they knew he’d been messing around with a guitar since eighth grade—it’d be easier for them to accept.

Li Mu’s face lit up. “You’re right! I’ll just tell them the truth. Wan-jie, you’re so clever!”

“Little rascal,” Chen Wan rolled her eyes at him. After saying goodbye, she watched him enter the complex, her lips pouting slightly, a hint of melancholy in her heart.

“At only eighteen, already such a prodigy. When you get to Yanjing, how many girls are you going to sweep off their feet…”