The Long Game

Gaming had always been a cornerstone of the internet, especially online games, which had begun flourishing in China since 2000. At the moment, Stone Age Online dominated the scene, but by year's end, Chen Tianqiao would catapult to fame—and eventually China's richest man—with a mediocre Korean MMORPG called The Legend of Mir.

Legend, as players later dubbed it, was likely in its pre-launch testing phase now. Li Mu had once been obsessed with the game during college, grinding a warrior character until graduation in 2005. Even now, he remembered its glaring flaws. With his current skills, exploiting bugs, duplicating in-game currency, or coding cheats would be child's play—and wildly profitable.

But Legend wouldn't officially launch until September, followed by a two-month free trial before monetization in November. Its first cheat tool, a simple "auto-light" hack that eliminated the need for torches, wouldn't emerge until late 2001. Yet that rudimentary tool would achieve near-universal adoption overnight. The demand was undeniable.

For now, Li Mu's opportunity lay with Stone Age Online. Like Legend and MU Online, it suffered from rampant cheating. He recalled a news story about a cheat studio called "Abei Plugins" that built a million-yuan empire off Stone Age hacks within two years.

Those guys were just average coders of their time, Li Mu mused. But I have decades of hindsight. If he pinpointed players' needs, money would flood in.

Chen Wan's casual mention of gaming had electrified him. As a veteran techie, he knew two things drove male internet spending: adult content and games. Cheat tools? A goldmine.

Still gripping Chen's hand in his excitement, Li Mu only snapped back to reality when his father coughed pointedly. He released her, masking embarrassment with a keyboard-miming gesture. "Computers can do more than games and web surfing, you know."

Chen nodded politely. "True, but most only learn basics. You could major in computer science."

"Hmm." Li Mu's mind raced. Stone Age had been live for six months. Existing cheats were primitive. With his skills, he could carve out a niche now, then pivot to Legend when it exploded.

Casually, he probed Chen's background: a journalism junior at Fudan University, only child of Haizhou business owners. To gauge her relationship status, he deployed shameless flattery: "A campus belle like you must have a lineup of heartthrobs chasing you."

Chen blushed. "No boyfriend. And I'm no belle."

Bingo. Her family's wealth—later tied to her father's billion-yuan Ponzi scheme—explained her current privilege. But with 10 yuan to his name, Li Mu couldn't alter her trajectory yet. Time was his ally.

After dinner, Chen insisted on paying for their taxi. Li Mu declined, citing overcrowding. Before parting, she scribbled her number in his palm. "Call me. I'll be in town all summer."

As her cab vanished, Li's mother clutched his hand in the backseat. "When they called about the accident… I nearly died of fear."

His father turned from the front passenger seat. "You got lucky this time. Be careful."

Li Mu nodded, warmth swelling in his chest.