SATURATION CHAPTER 5

Chapter 5: I won’t need it in the future either

Translator: Abo Dammen

Ji Ling’s WeChat profile picture was a bowl of brown soup.

Sui Cannong recognized it as a screenshot from a game because the soup was a type of food players could cook, called black truffle cream soup.

Most of the teachers at the school were foreign instructors, and they usually communicated through the school’s email system or software like Teams. WeChat, being a more personal form of contact, was typically only exchanged among teachers who were on good terms.

Sui Cannong scrolled through Ji Ling’s Moments.

Ji Ling had set his Moments to be visible for only the past six months, so there were only two photos to see. Both were normal landscape pictures, with no obvious signs of the melancholic vibe often associated with online depression.

But Sui Cannong reminded himself that people with depressive tendencies often hide themselves well and usually don’t openly share their feelings on social media.

When he had asked Ji Ling at noon if he had any worries or troubles, Ji Ling had denied it. Sui Cannong knew that Ji Ling might not be willing to open up to him.

Sui Cannong felt like he was going crazy, but all he wanted now was to prove that he had been overthinking everything.

He paced around his room until around 7:30 PM then hesitantly sent Ji Ling a WeChat message: “Can you get online now?”

After a while, Ji Ling replied: “Sure.”

Sui Cannong logged into the game and saw that Ji Ling’s avatar was also lit up, so he immediately formed a team with him.

Today, Ji Ling was using the hero Sui Cannong had gifted him—Little Butterfly. Sui Cannong also noticed that Ji Ling had bought a 98-yuan skin for the butterfly, likely because he found the character easy to use.

The new dungeon had indeed been released today, but Sui Cannong didn’t actually know how difficult it was. At the time, he had just come up with an excuse on the spot to indirectly get Ji Ling’s WeChat.

He hadn’t prepared much before starting the dungeon, and as soon as they entered, he was stunned.

It wasn’t just a little difficult—it was overwhelmingly hard. Twenty minutes had passed, and they hadn’t even encountered any monsters because the initial puzzle had trapped them in a cave.

Sui Cannong ran around the cave in a frantic state, while Ji Ling stood still, quietly holding a torch to light the way.

The more they struggled to solve the puzzle, the more anxious Sui Cannong became, and the more anxious he got, the harder it was to solve. Sui Cannong was practically sweating in the virtual world.

Normally, it wouldn’t be a big deal to embarrass oneself in a game—after all, there was a screen separating them. But now, he was playing with a real-life colleague.

After some hesitation, Sui Cannong typed in the team chat: “How about we turn on voice chat? You can call out the positions of the stones for me, and we might solve it faster.”

The dungeon had been released in the afternoon, so by now, there were probably guides online they could follow. But Sui Cannong still wanted to solve the puzzle on his own. First, he didn’t want to ruin the gaming experience, and second, he hadn’t forgotten his original goal—to find an opportunity to talk and subtly probe Ji Ling’s thoughts.

So Sui Cannong turned on his microphone. “Hey, can you hear me?”

There was silence on the other end for a long time, followed by some faint rustling sounds. Then, Sui Cannong heard Ji Ling respond softly.

“I can hear you,” he said.

“Okay. Give me a second.”

Sui Cannong stared at the symbols on the stone wall and stepped on the mechanism again, but the door still didn’t open. He sighed in frustration. “I think my brain has stopped working.”

Ji Ling said, “No need to rush.”

Sui Cannong hummed in acknowledgment, took a deep breath, and tried the mechanism again following his previous logic, but the door remained firmly shut.

Sui Cannong was starting to feel numb.

“Teacher Sui,” Ji Ling suddenly spoke after a long silence, “you can start with the stone on your left.”

Sui Cannong was startled and shifted his view to the stone on his left.

“Then follow the order from the shortest to the tallest stone,” Ji Ling added.

Sui Cannong followed his instructions, and then Ji Ling said, “Now, look at the direction of the arrow above and try walking counterclockwise.”

Sui Cannong: “...!”

He had been stuck on this puzzle for fifteen minutes, but Ji Ling’s two simple sentences instantly clarified his mind.

After the door opened, it was time for the usual monster-fighting phase. Sui Cannong tried his best to deal damage, though he felt that no amount of high damage could ease his embarrassment.

Ji Ling also seemed to sense the awkwardness in the air.

After some hesitation, he added, “Your earlier approach wasn’t wrong either. It’s just that the lighting here is a bit dim. If you had more time…”

Sui Cannong just wanted to beg him to stop talking.

The dungeon rewards were generous, and the two of them left the dungeon with full inventories.

After half an hour, Sui Cannong noticed that the atmosphere between them seemed less tense than before.

He felt it was a good opportunity and wondered if he should bring up what happened by the bridge that day.

But how should he bring it up? Should he just ask outright, “Can I ask if you were planning to jump into the river that day?” Or should he be more subtle and say, “If you’re facing any difficulties, you can talk to me”?

But they weren’t close, and he wasn’t sure if he had the right to ask such a question.

“Teacher Sui.”

Ji Ling seemed to have moved closer to the microphone, as his voice suddenly became much clearer and louder. His tone was light and clean.

Sui Cannong, wearing headphones, felt as if Ji Ling had suddenly leaned in to speak directly into his ear. For some reason, his heart skipped a beat.

Sui Cannong stammered inexplicably: “Wh-what is it?”

Ji Ling seemed to hesitate for a moment before saying, “Can you open your home to me?”

Sui Cannong: “Oh, sure.”

Neither of them brought up the incident at the coffee shop. It was just like their usual gaming sessions—after finishing the dungeon, Ji Ling entered Sui Cannong’s world to build the house.

However, now that Sui Cannong knew that Antelope was Ji Ling, he couldn’t just stand by and watch like before.

So he switched his Little Butterfly into the team and started chopping trees alongside Ji Ling.

The little butterfly’s character design was a chubby little girl with wings on her back, so the scene now was two small, round characters standing side by side, chopping trees.

Sui Cannong asked, “Do you like building houses?”

Most people played games to improve their strength or enjoy the thrill of defeating monsters. Players like Ji Ling, who preferred peaceful activities like building and farming, were rare in Sui Cannong’s experience.

Ji Ling paused. He didn’t say whether he liked it or not, only giving a vague hum.

He asked, “Do you think this house looks good?”

Sui Cannong said, “Of course. I’ve never seen such a beautiful house in real life.”

Ji Ling hummed and said, “Because if this house were recreated in real life at the same scale, it would collapse within three seconds.”

Sui Cannong: “...”

It had been a long time since Sui Cannong had met someone who could kill a conversation so effectively.

“So it’s not that I like building houses.”

He saw Ji Ling’s character jump twice in the farmland before saying, “It’s just that there are some things that can’t be done in real life, but they can be done in the game.”

Sui Cannong’s heart stirred.

From their recent interactions, Sui Cannong had noticed that Ji Ling wasn’t as cold and reserved as he appeared on the surface. He just had trouble expressing himself.

For example, when you asked him a question, he would explain things very seriously, sometimes coming across as stiff and awkward, like a child who couldn’t read social cues.

People who didn’t know him might think he had low emotional intelligence, but Sui Cannong realized that he just had a longer response time and genuinely struggled with communication.

Sui Cannong said, “Well, the house you built is really beautiful.”

Ji Ling didn’t speak for a long time. Sui Cannong noticed that his character had suddenly stopped moving.

After a while, Ji Ling’s voice drifted over, sounding somewhat distant. “Thank you for taking me through the dungeon, Teacher Sui.”

Sui Cannong, “What are you talking about? If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t even have been able to get through the door—”

Before he could finish, Sui Cannong froze.

A notification popped up on his screen. “Antelope has gifted you [Mercury Ore × 100] and [Falling Maple Longbow]. Do you accept?”

Sui Cannong almost choked. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t dare touch his phone screen, afraid he might accidentally hit the confirm button. “You should keep the ore for yourself! And why are you giving me such a good weapon?”

On the other end of the screen, Ji Ling was silent for a while before saying, “I don’t need it.”

“The panda you often use will need at least 70 pieces of Mercury Ore later on, and you’re about to reach level 60. The monsters’ health will increase, and the ore will be harder to mine. You’ll need to stock up,” he explained earnestly.

Sui Cannong still couldn’t understand.

Mercury Ore was a material that couldn’t be bought with real money in the game. Players had to mine it manually, and it had a slow respawn rate. Ore was also needed for weapon forging and hero refinement, making it an extremely scarce resource.

To gift 100 pieces of ore, along with a high-quality longbow, Ji Ling was playing the game as if… he had no plans for his own future.

“You might not need it now, but what about your other heroes in the future?” Sui Cannong felt something was off. “You can’t keep being so charitable. Don’t you think about your own future? Why are you giving this to me?”

Ji Ling didn’t respond for a long time. Sui Cannong felt like he had stumped him.

Without hesitation, Sui Cannong prepared to click the “reject” button and return the items untouched. But the next second, he heard something that sent a chill down his spine—

“...No reason. Just accept it, Teacher Sui,” Ji Ling said vaguely. “I really don’t need it.”

“And I probably won’t need it in the future either,” he added.

---

Author’s Feed:

Ji Ling: If I give him more ore, he’ll definitely be happy and will want to play with me every day.

Teacher Sui, lying awake at 3 AM, tossing and turning, growing more and more terrified the more he thought about it.