Chapter 38: Our Little Home Afterward

The pixel‑style characters on the screen are bouncing, Jiang Ran excitedly operates, and keeps narrating: "Look, this is the Wave Punch! This is the Shoryuken! Ah, damn! This kid dares to ambush me!"

Su Ruan watches the rough graphics on the screen and Jiang Ran's fully focused, animated expression, feeling both a bit novel and a bit funny.

She tries a few moves, the joystick feels clunky, the buttons stiff; for someone who lived through the information‑explosion era, it's rather… childish.

Yet, seeing Jiang Ran so immersed, watching him swing his fist excitedly after a win, or slam the machine in frustration after a mistake, that pure enthusiasm and vigor,

makes her involuntarily catch the same feeling, a faint smile lingering at the corner of her mouth.

She plays a few rounds in sync; the crisp electronic tones and the pure cheers of the surrounding youths create a simple yet intense atmosphere unique to this era.

However, after a while Su Ruan begins to feel tired, her fingers grow sore, and the repetitive sound effects start to feel noisy.

She puts down the joystick, walks to a slightly quieter corner, watches Jiang Ran still battling at the machine; his focused profile under the flickering screen light looks especially youthful and lively.

But as she keeps watching, Su Ruan's thoughts gradually drift away.

She recalls her past life, the ending of that book, Jiang Ran's later years.

Indeed, with his family's support and his own daring, he rode the 1990s wave of going into business, opened several Game Halls and pool rooms, later dabbled in clothing and appliances, built a respectable enterprise, accumulated wealth, and became the envied "Boss Jiang" people talked about.

Yet the book's description always carries a faint regret.

His success relied more on the era's boom and his family's original capital, lacking truly core, sustainable competitiveness.

When the later internet‑economy wave swept in, his traditional businesses inevitably suffered; although his old capital kept him respectable, he ultimately missed bigger opportunities, faded away, and could not be called a truly great success.

Moreover, because of that superficial, calculating marriage with Su Yanhua, his personality grew increasingly paranoid; though surrounded by a group of "brothers," few were sincere.

In the end, despite wealth, he had no children, no one by his side, becoming a completely solitary figure, his later years rather bleak.

Thinking of this, Su Ruan's heart twitched slightly.

She looks at the vibrant, fiery youth before her, who would blush and quicken his heartbeat at a single glance from her, whose emotions are laid bare by a win or loss, and simply cannot link him to the book's lonely, clouded‑eyed, alone "Boss Jiang" of old age.

He deserves a better life, not just a bit of money, but genuine success and fulfillment, a thriving career, and a warm harmonious family.

"I'm done, I'm done! No energy!"

Jiang Ran finally feels satisfied after clearing a round, thinking he's shown enough skill in front of his wife, and smugly wipes away non‑existent sweat from his forehead.

But when he turns, he sees Su Ruan sitting quietly in the corner, her gaze a little vacant, not watching his heroic display.

He immediately, like a neglected big dog, steps a few paces over, sits beside her, his tone a mix of grievance and flattery: "Wife, why did you stop playing? Not fun? Shall we try something else? There's a dance pad over there, and a shooting game, pretty exciting…"

"Jiang Ran." Su Ruan interrupts him, turns her head, and looks at him seriously.

"Hm?" Jiang Ran is taken aback by her sudden seriousness, his playful grin softening a bit.

The Game Hall's noisy background seems to fade at that moment. Su Ruan's voice is low but clear in his ears:

"What are your plans for the future?"

"Plans?" Jiang Ran blinks, not quite understanding, "What plans? Just go on like this! I've got a wife now, so I'll definitely treat you well, give you the best of everything!"

As he speaks, he instinctively tries to flash that cocky grin, reaching out to pinch her cheek, as if that could push the heavy topic aside.

Su Ruan gently deflects his hand, her gaze still focused, even with a hint of tender insistence: "I'm not asking that. I'm asking how you intend to earn money. You can't just keep playing forever, or rely on your parents, can you?"

She pauses, looks into his slightly stunned eyes, her tone softer yet each word clear: "I'm your wife; I want to know what you think about our future. What will support our little home?"

This question, for most youths at the end of the 1980s still clutching an iron rice bowl or satisfied with present bustle, seems abrupt and "overthinking."

But Su Ruan knows the wheels of the era are about to speed up; without early planning and the right mindset, one may be left behind, even repeat the book's old path.

Jiang Ran's smile vanishes completely.

He scratches his head, showing, for the first time before Su Ruan, a hint of confusion and… discomfort. A pressure he's never felt lightly settles on his young shoulders.

"Making money… there are plenty of ways." His tone is vague, his eyes drifting elsewhere, avoiding Su Ruan's gaze, "Shi Tou and the others flip some tapes, jeans, we can earn a bit. Later… later we'll see, anyway we won't starve you or me."

He tries to mask the emptiness inside with the last of his bravado.

He actually has no clear plan.

In the past he ate his fill while the whole family was fine, spent days idling with his brothers, relying on his family's good conditions, never worrying about money, never thinking far ahead.

Now, being asked so earnestly by his wife about the future and the support of their little home, he feels, for the first time, a vague sense of responsibility and a barely perceptible panic.

He realizes that aside from gaming and his family's modest backing, he lacks any truly marketable skill for a stable livelihood.

Su Ruan watches his flickering eyes and slightly tightened jawline, understanding about seventy‑percent of it.

She is not disappointed; rather, she finds it normal.

The youth before her is essentially an unrefined jade, not yet tempered by wind and rain, needing guidance and polishing.

She softens her voice, as if unintentionally guiding him: "Flipping tapes and jeans is small‑scale, unstable, can't grow big, not a long‑term plan. Have you considered doing something more… lasting and solid?"