Chapter Fifty: The Substitute Player

Qian Yuling’s reaction to the matter of the online game model was almost exactly as Fang Da had anticipated. She said she simply didn’t have any extra money to buy such useless things for the child, and she hadn’t even known that her ten-year-old son had a habit of playing online games. Her voice was very hoarse, and she spoke weakly. Even without guessing, it was clear that this estranged couple had both been tormented by Fang Wan’s disappearance.

When An Changpu drove Qin Ruonan to the area near the school where Xiao Yang attended, they arrived just as school was letting out. Numerous students in uniform streamed onto the street, some in twos and threes, heading to nearby shops to buy food. It seemed to be dinnertime, with students planning to return later for evening self-study sessions.

Qin Ruonan’s mind was preoccupied with checking the internet cafés, unaffected by the casual "dinner atmosphere." She felt no hunger at all, but An Changpu was somewhat hungry.

“Let’s grab something to eat first, then go. The internet cafés are all on the ground floor; they won’t just run away,” he said to Qin Ruonan.

Before she could respond, he changed his mind. “Never mind, let’s save some time. There must be quite a few internet cafés near the school. It’ll take a while to check them all. Wait here; I’ll buy something, and we can eat as we go. That way, we won’t waste time.”

With that, he strode into a small shop by the roadside. Qin Ruonan wasn’t feeling hungry, so she simply stood by the roadside to wait.

Soon, An Changpu returned, both hands full, beads of sweat glistening on his forehead.

“Man, I’m getting old and slow. It’s hard to push through those middle schoolers to buy food. I barely managed to get some filling stuff. Here’s your share,” he said, handing her a plastic bag containing two steamed buns and a cup of tofu pudding. “Don’t say you’re not hungry. If you don’t eat, you’ll wreck your health sooner or later.”

“You’re really good at taking care of people,” Qin Ruonan smiled at him and, preferring to obey than to argue, took the food. She pierced the disposable cup’s lid with a straw and sipped the warm, slightly hot tofu pudding. The heat flowed down her throat into her stomach, instantly warming her up.

“Of course. You’re new here, so you probably don’t know, but Brother Feng is famous for being a devoted husband. As his subordinate, I’ve been influenced by that for better or worse,” An Changpu joked cheerfully, showing no humility.

“Whoever marries you in the future will be very lucky,” Qin Ruonan muttered somewhat ruefully.

Thinking she was joking, An Changpu replied casually, “Whoever marries you will have it easy too. You’re not a spoiled girl; you don’t need anyone to look after you.”

Qin Ruonan’s smile faded into a bit of bitterness. She knew he was joking, but it still stung. Then again, she had no comeback. If she was someone who barely cared for herself, who else would bother looking after her?

Both ate quickly. Standing in a sheltered spot near the snack shop’s entrance, they finished their meal in just a few bites and immediately focused again on checking the internet cafés around the school.

After the government explicitly prohibited internet cafés from being within 200 meters of a school’s main gate, the many small internet cafés once scattered around schools had long since vanished. In their place were stationery shops, gift stores, and various snack shops.

The internet cafés had relocated to relatively concealed spots around the school, still within a reasonable distance but beyond the 200-meter limit.

An Changpu and Qin Ruonan, unfamiliar with the area, searched near the main road but found no internet cafés. Only after asking the owner of a small grocery store did they learn the secret: these cafés were tucked away in small alleys and even beneath open residential complexes nearby.

Circling from the main street into the adjacent open residential areas, just as the grocer said, they found countless internet cafés. After checking only two briefly, they decided to use Xiao Yang’s identity to directly target the cafés he frequented.

The reason was simple: the internet cafés near the school primarily served students. Although it was only early evening—between dismissal and evening classes—many students were already engrossed in games inside the cafés. Some wore their own clothes but hid their backpacks under chairs. Others brazenly wore school uniforms. The café staff were so used to this that they saw nothing unusual.

Even when An Changpu and Qin Ruonan pretended not to have IDs, the staff at two cafés didn’t ask and immediately let them log onto computers.

This lax attitude was in stark contrast to the strictness near Fang Wan’s home, making undercover investigation unnecessary and merely a waste of time.

Once they revealed their police identities, the investigation pace didn’t change much. Hearing the police were present made the café staff and owners wary and cautious, afraid that unrelated matters might be exposed.

After a long search through no fewer than ten internet cafés, they finally narrowed down the few that Xiao Yang usually visited. Among them, two staff members only vaguely remembered the boy from the photo, while one had a strong impression.

“He often comes late at night to stay overnight and leaves around dawn. Even if he’s not in uniform, I can tell he’s a student from the nearby high school!” the staff member said. After An Changpu repeatedly assured them they were from the criminal investigation unit and had no role in internet café regulation, and with the owner absent, the man relaxed and spoke more openly. “This kid’s got a serious gaming addiction! I work one week night shifts, one week day shifts. When I’m on nights, I see him at least four or five times a week, sometimes even every night.”

“Why does this boy come here to play? There’s another internet café nearby with much better conditions—soft sofas instead of those hard-backed chairs here,” An Changpu casually glanced around.

The staff member shrugged. “Soft sofas don’t come cheap. Their overnight rates are higher, too. They charge one flat rate regardless of when you come or leave. We’re more flexible here. For someone like that kid, who comes late and leaves early, we only charge two-thirds of the usual overnight price. If you were a poor student, would you choose comfort or cheaper prices?”

“That makes sense. Do you know what he does when he’s here?”

“Plays games, what else? Boys mostly come to game, while girls chat, watch movies or shows, or read comics.”

“Do you have game boosters or power-leveling services here?” Qin Ruonan tried to steer the conversation toward what she wanted to find out.

“We used to, but less now. Most people have their own computers and internet at home, so boosting from home is more comfortable. Staying in internet cafés to boost is exhausting and unsustainable,” the staff member said. Suddenly, he seemed to recall something and tapped the counter. “Now that you mention it, I think that kid might be doing boosting!”

“Are you sure? How do you know?” Though An Changpu and Qin Ruonan had already heard from Wu Donghai about Xiao Yang’s boosting, they feigned surprise.

“I can’t be sure, and you’re police, so if I lie, that’s perjury, right?” The man joked, not really worried. “I just think so because he’s here so often. Sometimes, when the café is quiet late at night and I’m sleepy, I walk around to stay awake. I noticed he doesn’t always play the same game. Sometimes he plays the usual one, sometimes other games. His game characters and levels vary a lot. Even if someone paid him to boost, he wouldn’t need to switch so many accounts unless he’s completing tasks!”

“That makes sense. But who hires him? Other customers here?”

“No idea. Usually it’s found online. I used to do boosting for a while when I was younger, but it wore me out, so I stopped. I’m not up to date with the current scene.”

“How much would such boosting typically pay?”

“Hard to say, but these days, three to four thousand yuan a month is reasonable,” the staff member answered after some thought.

“Wow, playing online games and making three to four thousand a month? That’s way better than being a detective!” An Changpu teased Qin Ruonan.

“Not really, you guys get a steady government salary,” the staff member waved his hand, then sighed dramatically. “Boosting isn’t easy. It’s not a formal job. I’ve heard plenty of stories about unscrupulous employers withholding pay or underpaying. Many boosting players get cheated out of money. It’s all heartbreaking stuff.”