Translator: Nyoi-Bo Studio Editor: Nyoi-Bo Studio

  The old man saw Zhang Zian hesitate. He thought he was going to be politely refused, so he turned around to get help.

  Zhang Zian’s hesitation disappeared and he smiled. “Sure, I have time now. Let’s find a seat. Where would you like to sit?”


  “Anywhere will do!” The old man was thrilled. He looked around to find a seat as quickly as he could, just in case Zhang Zian changed his mind.

  Once Zhang Zian made up his mind, he wouldn’t change it. He put his phone in his pocket and pointed at an empty table in the corner. “How about over there? There are two free computers next to each other.”


  “Okay!” The old man slowly followed Zhang Zian to the corner with his cane.

  Zhang Zian pulled out the chair for him. They took their seats, with a computer in front of both of them.

  “Uncle, I’m just wondering. Why don’t you use the touch screen terminals like the other senior citizens? Isn’t it more convenient?” Zhang Zian asked while moving the mouse to wake the computer up.

  “I don’t think I’m that old. I want to spend time with young people, and use what they use.” The old man leaned his cane against the desk and laughed. “I practiced typing for this reason. I bought some primary school textbooks and learned Pinyin. I know how to surf the internet, but the computers here seem different.”


  The old man introduced himself. His last name was Zhou. His wife passed away long ago, and his children and grandchildren worked in different cities and didn’t visit often. He learned new things to kill time.

  Zhang Zian realized how much he hated being old. He started calling him “Mr. Zhou,” which he preferred to “Uncle” as it made him feel younger.

  After logging in, Zhang Zian realized something was wrong. The operating system in the computers wasn’t Windows nor Mac OS, but a massively customized special system with simplified functions. There was no Resource Manager or Control Panel or Internet Explorer or chatting tools. It was connected to a local network, so the Internet wasn’t available.

  The computers were All-in-One computers like Mac, fixated on the desks. There was nothing in the back, no USB or Thunderbolt ports. There were only the power and cable ports along with PS/2 ports for the keyboard and mouse. There wasn’t even a place to plug earphones in.

  It would take time for young people to get used to the computer, let alone Mr. Zhou.

  Equipping the library with this type of computer effectively blocked viruses and prevented illegal transmissions of e-books. The library also had easy-to-use touch screen terminals for the elderly, but some elderly hated to feel old.

  Zhang Zian opened a customized reading software and worked on it for a while before teaching Mr. Zhou to search for books by category and other things like changing the background color and adjusting the font size.

  “Young man, what are they doing over there?” Mr. Zhou pointed to the front.

  Zhang Zian noticed it, too. People on the fifth floor weren’t reading, they were typing, as if they were chatting online. Surely, they couldn’t log into QQ here, so what were they typing?

  “Wait a moment, Mr. Zhou. I’ll have a look.”


  He walked behind the row of young people and observed, an idea forming in his mind.

  The fifth floor was a digitalized reading and communication area, where people could talk in a chatroom. Readers could recommend books to others or ask others about a book they were searching for.

  The readers that visited during the holidays were well-educated, so the chatroom was friendly. There was always help for those who needed it, and even if no one was able to help, they made others feel welcome.

  It was fair to say that this was a smart investment for the library. Setting up a chatroom not only relieved the help desk of some work, it fostered passion and friendship among readers.

  Zhang Zian returned to his seat and opened the chatroom for Mr. Zhou, so that he could communicate with others.

  Mr. Zhou was enjoying himself. Even though he typed slowly with one finger, he attentively commented on books. When other readers sought help, he always did what he could to help, but most people got help from others before he could finish typing.

  “Mr. Zhou, I need to leave for a moment. If you have questions, I’ll answer them when I return.” Zhang Zian took out his phone to search for the elfin one last time.

  “Okay. Thank you.” Mr. Zhou nodded, eyes glued to the screen. If he was 40 years younger, Mr. Zhou might have been addicted to the Internet.

  On game map, the icon indicating the elfin’s location was darker. It would disappear soon.

  As soon as Zhang Zian stood, he heard Mr. Zhou mumblie, “Why does this kid always disturb people?”


  “What’s the matter?” Zhang Zian thought Mr. Zhou had another question, then bent down behind him to look at the screen.

  “Look at this kid, always typing ridiculous stuff. Nobody knows what he’s up to.” Mr. Zhou said, pointing at the screen.

  Most people in the chatroom used nicknames, but Mr. Zhou called everybody “kid.”


  Everybody in the chatroom was friendly, with the exception of one person. He was the bad egg.

  [Pancake]: I’ve been obsessed with The Silk Road by Bill Porter. Any other recommendations?

  [Jackdaw]: That book is a travel log at best, just worth skimming through. If you want something serious, I recommend the book by Peter Frankopan with the same name.

  [Coco]: I’ve been watching you guys talk, and I recommend Valerie Hansen’s The Silk Road: A New History. I just returned it, so it should be in Section B1 on the second floor.

  [3.1415926]:3.1415926535897932384626433832795028841971693993751058209749445923078164062862089986280348253421170679

  [Jackdaw]: Hey, Pi, if you’re a child, please go to the youth library on the first floor. Don’t interrupt our conversation, okay?

  [Blue Flower]: Yes, you’ve been disturbing in the chatroom since this morning. Many poeple left because of you.

  [3.1415926]:3.1415926535897932384626433832795028841971693993751058209749445923078164062862089986280348253421170679

  [A Liu]: What’s wrong with you? What’s the purpose of typing numbers? You want to show off that you know the first 100 digits of Pi? I could do that since primary school! If you want to impress people, go answer questions on Zhihu.”


  [Pancake]: There isn’t an administrator in the chatroom, otherwise I’d ask for him to get kicked out.

  [3.1415926]:3.1415926535897932384626433832795028841971693993751058209749445923078164062862089986280348253421170679

  [Coco]: I just stood up and looked. There are no kids on the fifth floor.

  [Jackdaw]: It’d be worse if he’s an adult. I’ve never seen such a b*tchy adult!

  Zhang Zian stood behind Mr. Zhou and observed for a while. No matter what others were talking about in the chatroom, the mysterious user always typed the first 100 digits of Pi. Regardless of whether the other readers asked nicely or rebuked furiously, he never talked back, just kept typing the same numbers.

  The readers were all well-educated and polite, they wouldn’t have used such words had they not been annoyed. The problem was that there wasn’t an administrator in the chatroom, so they could get as angry as they wanted, but there was nothing they could do about this person.

  Mr. Zhou frowned. “I think it’s a kid. A naughty kid, naughtier than my grandchildren. He needs to be disciplined!”


  Zhang Zian stood up, and looked around the hall of the fifth floor once again. He was focused on finding the elfin earlier, and only took a brief glance around. He didn’t pay attention to the age, gender, or appearance of the readers, as none of them could’ve been the elfin he was searching for.

  There were about 200 PCs in the reading area of the fifth floor, and less than half of them had someone in front of the screens. Although the readers appeared close in the chatroom, they were spread everywhere in reality. Very few people sat next to each other, unless they were friends in real life.

  As Zhang Zian glanced around the room, a young girl in another corner stood up and glanced around. They met each other eyes, then she smiled and sat down. She might be Coco in the chatroom.

  As Coco said, there were no children on the fifth floor, and the youngest people here were at least 18 years old. They appeared serious, and didn’t seem to be playing a prank.

  As for the senior citizens reading on the touch screen terminal, they didn’t seem to have the chatroom function, so it probably wasn’t them.

  This just got weird.