Peninsula: Aiming for a Grand Slam

10000 backhand, the next day.

Friday afternoon.

During the last class, a lazy restlessness filled the classroom.

The teacher's voice on the podium sounded like distant white noise. Sunlight streamed in through the window at an angle. Some people were twirling pens, while others were secretly scrolling through their phones under the table.

Chen Jixian also lowered his head.

The phone screen is lit up.

Shopping website.

Tennis racket.

"Let's resolve the racket issue today and get the 80 yuan as soon as possible."

The cheapest one is 30,000 won, made of aluminum alloy.

The comment reads, "It went astray after two tries."

He slid down, it was made of carbon fiber.

150,000, 200,000, 350,000.

Prices are getting more and more outrageous, skyrocketing.

He stared at the 45 yuan racket for a long time before sighing and clicking "Sort by price from low to high".

Spit.

31000 Korean won. (141 yuan)

I've never heard of the brand. It's made of aluminum alloy and says "lightweight design"—meaning it's so light it's practically weightless.

Chen Jixian clicked in and glanced at it.

"It's not that it can't be used..."

Are you playing tennis or joking?

Chen Jixian: ? ? ?

This damn system is actually browsing shopping websites with him?

Chen Jixian gritted his teeth and adjusted the price up one level. 5 Korean won. Still Spitec, carbon-aluminum hybrid. (227 yuan)

This is a racket that perfectly matches your frugal lifestyle.

Does that mean it's still not working?

Keep scrolling down.

12 Korean won! (546 yuan)

[Unqualified; the material is substandard.]

18 Korean won! (819 yuan)

[Unqualified, performance is insufficient.]

25 Korean won! (1100 yuan)

Keep going, you're almost there.

Chen Jixian was furious.

He was so desperate that he started to flip over quickly, when he suddenly heard a sound.

High-level equipment spotted!

Chen Jixian took a look:

Babolat Pure Drive

Babolat PD.

price……

50 Korean won!

2300 RMB?!

This is what you call "almost there"? 1100 yuan skyrocketed to 2300 yuan, and this is what the system calls "almost there"?

His monthly living expenses are only 600,000 Korean won, which is a little over 3,000 yuan. After buying this racket, he'll be starving next month.

Fortunately, he embezzled "public funds".

"Oh shit……"

He put down his phone and sighed.

"What are you looking at?"

Wang Hao had somehow gotten close and leaned over to look at his screen.

"Tennis racket".

"You want to play tennis?"

"I don't want to fight." Chen Jixian thought for a moment, "No, I do want to fight."

What will the system do if he doesn't play tennis?

Sell ​​his laptop.

Sell ​​his phone.

He sold the house his aunt had lent him!

Then he's finished.

Chen Jixian's reputation was already terrible in his hometown, and his parents were also criticized as a result.

"Which tennis racket have you got your eye on?" Wang Hao glanced at the price on the screen. "Five hundred thousand? Are you crazy?"

"I'm not crazy."

The system has gone mad!

Chen Jixian knew that the system had its eye on this 2300 yuan tennis racket. How did he know?

Because his phone inexplicably froze.

shit!

The high school senior's tennis master learning system has been hijacked on the Samsung Galaxy S10e's One UI system based on Android 9.0!

"As expected, Xiao Han's stuff is no good!"

My phone is stuck.

I can't click anymore.

However, as soon as he clicked "Add to Cart," the broken Samsung immediately returned to normal, even smoother than usual!

The system remained silent.

But what it means is: I want this!

Is this really the same ruthless, unscrupulous system? Or is it just a little kid who can't tear himself away from toys?

"PD is a bit pricey, can your wallet handle it?" Wang Hao commented.

Chen Jixian sighed: "The pressure is a bit much, after all, I have elderly parents to support and young children to raise."

Wang Hao really wanted to say: "Is that you down there?"

After a while, he slowly said, "I have one in my dorm, it's been gathering dust for ages."

Chen Jixian's eyes lit up: "Yours is the same as this one?"

"Um."

"How new?"

"I hit it twice."

Chen Jixian is craving it!

He said sourly, "What's the point of keeping it if you're not going to use it?"

Wang Hao chuckled: "You can just leave it there to look at."

Chen Jixian leaned closer: "Sell it to me for half price? 75% off is fine too."

Wang Hao didn't answer and turned to pack his schoolbag. Chen Jixian assumed he had forgotten and didn't press him for an answer.

On the way home from school, Wang Hao suddenly said, "Come with me somewhere, I'll give you my racket."

"Where?"

"SM Audition".

Are you sick?

"Come with me," Wang Hao said. "It would be too embarrassing for me to go alone. Just make up the numbers."

……

……

The bubbles have completely disappeared.

Bae Joo-hyun opened the chat window; the last message was from three days ago.

"Then good luck with your move, and remember to come back when you're done."

"Roger."

No more.

She put her phone down, picked it up, and put it down again.

Then open Theqoo.

That post is still there.

October 2020 was the time she least wanted to recall.

While the entire internet was condemning her, one person defied the tide and clearly explained the entire incident. His post received hundreds of negative comments, but he endured it all for a day before finally changing his profile picture in a sorry state.

The post was not deleted.

She remembered the ID, remembered the profile picture—a photo of him.

There are no new replies to the post.

The last edit was made last year.

She exited and went to his profile page.

Then he froze.

The screen is filled with posts from the top of the thread:

"Switch, 90% new, Zelda cartridge included, negotiable."

"Girl group photocards: Karina, Irene, Jang Won-young, and Minatozaki Sana, bring your prices."

"Senior high school study guide, selling for whatever price. Brand new, half price."

She scrolled down the list one by one.

Game console.

cassette tape.

Little Card.

Study materials!

She stared blankly at the words "Senior High School Tutoring Book" for a moment.

Didn't you say you were going to do manual labor and practice coding problems? Didn't you say you were going to study hard and ignore everything else?

So much coding practice that you're selling study materials?

Are they really laying bricks?!

She put down her phone, pondering various possibilities.

Has something happened at home?

The thought only lingered for a moment.

No. Something happened at home; he should have gone back to China, not stayed in Seoul to clear out his inventory.

Why is that?

A few words popped into her head.

Telecommunications fraud.

Online lending.

drug!

A high school senior, a foreigner living alone in Seoul, with no one to care for him.

She had seen this kind of news before.

Young people are coaxed into borrowing money, which snowballs with interest and they can't repay it. Or they are swindled out of all their savings. Or they get involved with something and sell anything to raise money, even their bodies or organs.

Bae Joo-hyun stared at the forum page.

His last post was two hours ago: "Urgent sale, available tonight."

Someone replied below: "Dude, are you that desperate for money?"

He didn't reply.

She stared at the ceiling, her finger swiping across her phone screen. She swiped to the chat window, then abruptly swiped to exit.

"He's just a fan."

The fingernails dug into the palm.

Loosen it, then pinch it back in.

She picked up her phone.

Open Theqoo.

She couldn't help but blame herself:

"Bae Joo-hyun, are you crazy...?"

She's an artist, he's a fan.

She knows better than anyone how the company will handle it if an artist contacts fans privately.

After October 2020, every step she took was a delicate gamble, and she couldn't afford to make a mistake.

We can't afford to make any more mistakes.

But he's not an ordinary fan.

Bae Joo-hyun signed that date for him, not because he asked for it. Bae Joo-hyun wanted him to know—I know it was you.

Later, we became more and more familiar with each other.

He's a senior in high school, aiming for Seoul National University. He complained on social media about the immense pressure from his family. But Bae Joo-hyun knew he still loved his family and didn't want to disappoint them.

That was a living, breathing person, not just an ID.

This person is now selling Switch consoles, game cartridges, game cards, and instruction manuals.

Moving bricks.

She stared at the input box.

What if he doesn't reply? What if he does reply?

What if the company finds out?

What if she does nothing and then sees him on the news one day?

My finger hovered above the screen for a moment.

Then I typed a line of text.

"Do you still have Irene's photocard? We can meet up."

send.

The message popped up, but it's unread.

Bae Joo-hyun stared at the screen, her heart pounding—10 minutes. If he didn't reply, she would delete the message.

One minute.

Two minutes.

three minutes.

She flipped her phone over, screen down, and placed it face down on the sofa. She then picked up the water bottle and took a sip.

lay down.

I picked up my phone again; it was still unread.

five minutes.

Six minutes.

She opened the message, her finger hovering over the delete button.

Seven minutes.

I haven't replied yet.

She stared at the "delete" button. If she clicked it, it would be as if nothing had happened.

She was still an artist, and he was still a fan. She did what she could, but he didn't reciprocate; it wasn't her fault.

The finger is hanging there.

Eight minutes.

A new message pops up at the top of the screen.

"exist."

Bae Joo-hyun stared at that word.

Then I put my phone down.