Banxia scooped a ladle of clear water from the bucket, poured it into the washbasin, then laid a towel flat in the water. After it was completely soaked, she picked it up, wrung it out, and washed her face and hands.
She did this meticulously and unhurriedly, washing her face clean before tying up her hair, and then tilting her head back for a deep breath.
White daylight poured down through the broken hole in the kitchen ceiling, falling on the girl’s face, forehead, and shoulders. She closed her eyes, maintaining silence. At this moment, she seemed to be communing with some deity in the mysterious beyond. Then Banxia turned and stepped into the living room, starting from the kitchen, walking around the tea table and sofa in the living room, each step the same length. She walked a C-shape in the living room before entering the bedroom.
Standing at the bedroom doorway, Banxia faced the radio, motherboard, and display on the table. She spread her arms wide and clapped them together with a loud “Pa!” before beginning to chant her incantations:
“Heaven above, computer below, Oh God of 1024, please hear my prayer!”
“I, Banxia, beseech you here, hoping you will bless my code to run successfully without errors. I will forever remember your mercy.”
“Teacher, if your spirit exists in heaven, please find the God of 1024 and persuade it to be merciful. If it refuses to be merciful, please help it be merciful.”
“Amen.”
“Allahu Akbar.”
“Amitabha.”
“Infinite Heaven’s Venerable.”
The incantation is complete.
Next came one bow, two bows, three bows.
After the bowing, Banxia received the programming god’s protection. She felt power surging endlessly from deep within her heart. Programming truly was metaphysics—prayer before starting work was essential. It was hard to imagine those huge internet companies before the world’s destruction—BG4MXH said companies specializing in programming were called internet companies. Those internet companies often had tens of thousands of employees—did they have a huge venue for worshipping the programming god? The scene of tens of thousands of people kowtowing to computers together must have been quite spectacular.
Finishing her prayers, Banxia sat in the chair facing the blank display. Under the keyboard was a draft paper recording all the code.
What she needed to do was simple: input the code recorded on paper into the motherboard. This was done under the guidance of experts from the China Telecom Jiangsu Branch. The experts couldn’t understand why she wanted to write the code on paper, but Banxia was still in the paper media era—she was more comfortable using a pen to fix information on paper.
The girl raised both hands and struck the first key.
“Pa!” came the sound.
Bai Yang awoke with a start.
It was He Leqin slapping his desk—class was over.
Bai Yang had already appointed Young Master He as the Nineteenth-rank Imperial Front Pencil-Sharpener Guard and Hand-Washing Doorkeeper Eunuch, responsible for waking him up after class each day.
These past few days, Bai Yang had been living in a daze at school. During class, if he wasn’t sleeping, he was spacing out. Fortunately, the teachers didn’t bother him. Bai Yang’s life was so comfortable it made Young Master He quite jealous. He never understood how this guy managed to escape the teachers’ strict supervision despite his grades taking a roller coaster ride downward. This fellow had no illness or pain, yet his grades were visibly sliding from Nanjing Aeronautics to Nanchang Aeronautics and further down to Southern Airlines Technical School—why weren’t the teachers managing him?
But Bai Yang said nothing, only that he bore the responsibility of saving the world. Mere mundane matters like college entrance exams shouldn’t trouble him.
He Leqin asked if he really couldn’t reveal a bit.
Bai Yang lowered his voice and said those who know must be silenced—still want to know?
Young Master He immediately displayed a fearless spirit of viewing death as going home: “If I hear the Way in the morning, I can die in the evening.” Just tell me, worst case I’ll hug you when we go out—if we’re killed by snipers, at least I won’t die alone.
“How is Your Majesty’s dragon body?” He Leqin asked.
“We are quite well,” Bai Yang rubbed his eyes. “Where shall we dine for today’s lunch?”
“There’s an old braised noodle shop on Zijin Road with decent reviews,” He Leqin said.
“Very good, that place it is.” Bai Yang gathered up his unopened textbooks and test papers from the desk and stuffed them into the drawer.
“Your Majesty, don’t forget you’re treating today,” He Leqin reminded him. “We agreed yesterday.”
“When was this?” Bai Yang said.
“You gray-bearded old thief! White-headed commoner! I’m going to usurp your position today…”
“Indeed there was such an agreement,” Bai Yang said.
“Your Majesty is wise.”
He Leqin pulled Bai Yang out of the school gate. Yan-ge hadn’t come—she had gone to the office to see a teacher and told them to go eat first by themselves.
The two strolled along, ducking under the city wall and walking onto Zijin Bridge. He Leqin suddenly pulled Bai Yang hard, grabbed his shoulder, and pointed ahead: “Hey hey hey Little White Sheep! Little White Sheep! Look!”
Bai Yang looked where he was pointing and frowned. “Look at what?”
People came and went on the bridge, traffic flowing like water.
“Look at that sister!” Young Master He lowered his voice. “The one in black—doesn’t she look familiar?”
Bai Yang finally realized who He Leqin meant. This fellow had sharp eyes. A tall young woman was standing on Zijin Bridge, arms crossed, leaning against the marble railing, lazily gazing at the sparkling moat below, like a tourist taking in the scenery.
She wore a black turtleneck sweater on top and fitted royal blue jeans below, white sneakers, black short hair, eyes lowered as if resting. Her aura was calm and crisp. Another characteristic that surprised Bai Yang was this sister’s height—estimated at least 1.75 meters.
“Doesn’t she look familiar?”
Bai Yang stood there staring for quite a while. He Leqin was right—the more he looked, the more familiar she seemed. He suddenly remembered where he’d seen her.
It was the agile waitress they’d met eating soup dumplings the day before yesterday!
“Should we go say hi?” He Leqin asked quietly. “She did save us from ruining our clothes after all.”
Bai Yang hesitated. “I think we better not… she probably doesn’t even remember us. What if she thinks we’re trying to hit on her?”
The two cowardly dogs quickly reached a consensus—pretend not to know her and walk past with stiff necks.
Getting closer, Bai Yang increasingly realized how tall this sister was—taller than him. The two acted like passersby, eyes straight ahead, walking across Zijin Bridge. The young woman didn’t give them a second look either, just leaning on the railing watching the scenery over the moat.
Only after walking until she was out of sight did Bai Yang and He Leqin start whispering.
“She’s so tall.”
“Must be 1.75 meters, right?”
“She didn’t follow us, did she?”
“I’ve never seen a girl with such good moves before, might have trained in martial arts. And so tall too—I think she could kill me with one punch.”
“Be more confident—she could kill both of us with one punch.”
“But meeting twice in two days, that’s fate.”
Indeed it was fate, and when fate comes you can’t stop it. Bai Yang and He Leqin would deeply experience this point in the next ten minutes. The two found seats in the restaurant, called for a server and chatted while waiting. Soon the server came with crisp footsteps—
“What would you like to order?”
“Is there a menu…” Bai Yang suddenly froze.
This waitress was so tall.
His gaze climbed up along the royal blue jeans and black turtleneck sweater, looking up at her face in a posture of reverence. Then both of them were so shocked their bottoms nearly left their seats.
The black-haired young woman held the menu in one hand, casually twirling a ballpoint pen in the other. The corners of her mouth turned up slightly as she winked at Bai Yang.