Entertainment: A whirlwind marriage with a fairy-like mother at the start!

Over the next few days, the crew's routine became both regular and bizarre.

During the day, everyone on set cried their hearts out over love, hate, and all sorts of emotions.

As soon as it was mealtime, everyone seemed to be switched on, turning their heads in unison towards the guesthouse, their nostrils flaring, waiting for the "God of Cookery" to summon them.

Yu Le only cooks occasionally, and can't cook too much. Fortunately, the high price is unaffordable for most people, so only a few celebrities who make quick money come here often, which is enough.

Aside from feeding the pack of hungry wolves, he spent most of his time holed up in a corner of the set, where his personal little stool became his throne.

He doesn't play on his phone either—the Nokia phones these days don't have much fun besides Snake.

He would just stand there in a daze, or cover his face with the day's newspaper and sleep, looking somewhat out of place in this busy and anxious film crew.

But that afternoon, Yu Le didn't sleep on set.

He pulled his military overcoat tighter, greeted the production assistant, said he was going to buy a pack of cigarettes, and then strolled out of the film studio.

It's very windy.

Yu Le hunched his shoulders, walked through two alleys, and stopped in front of a dilapidated storefront with a sign that read "Flying Fish Internet Cafe".

Pushing aside the heavy cotton curtain, a warm current mixed with the smells of cheap tobacco, instant noodle seasoning, and foot odor rushed out.

"Turn on the machine."

Yu Le slapped his ID card on the bar counter and casually tossed ten yuan over.

The internet cafe manager, a young man with dyed yellow hair, was playing "Legend of Mir" with a cigarette in his mouth when he tossed a card over without looking up.

"Site C, Unit 24, no porn, no smoking... Oh, you can smoke."

The internet cafe manager glanced up at the Hongtashan cigarette that Yu Le was chewing on, then looked down and continued slaying monsters.

Yu Le found a corner seat and sat down.

All around was the clatter of keyboards, with people yelling "Heal me!" and cursing "Stupid teammates!" It was a vibrant chaos unique to the early 21st century.

He pressed the power button.

The bulky monitor hummed for a full two minutes before displaying the classic blue sky and white clouds desktop background.

Yu Le skillfully opened the browser and entered a website address.

Nasdaq.

The webpage loads very slowly; the progress bar moves forward little by little, like a constipated old man.

Yu Le wasn't in a hurry.

He lit a cigarette, took a deep drag, and watched the smoke swirl in the dim light.

If you count the days, today should be the day NetEase releases the open beta data for "Westward Journey 2".

In its past life, this game not only saved NetEase, but also ushered in a golden age for Chinese online games.

Ding Sanshi, who looks honest and simple, relied on this monkey to fight his way back from the brink of delisting to the throne of the richest man.

Finally, the webpage loaded.

The screen is full of English text.

Yu Le ignored the complicated candlestick charts and focused his attention on the most eye-catching number.

NTES.

Current price: $1.15.

Increase: +64.28%.

Yu Le tapped her fingers lightly twice on the table.

Stable.

He switched pages and opened Sina Tech, a domestic technology channel.

The headline news, in bold black font, read: "NetEase's Westward Journey 2 Open Beta a Huge Success, First-Day Online Players Exceed 100,000!"

The comment section below has exploded.

"Holy crap! One hundred thousand? Really? The server's going to crash!"

"I just tried it, and there are over two thousand people in the queue. Ding Lei is going to make a fortune!"

"NetEase, you piece of trash, how did you manage to turn things around? I just sold my shares at a loss a couple of days ago! See you on the rooftop!"

Yu Le looked at the comments and a playful smile appeared on his lips.

100,000 online.

Compared to the millions or tens of millions of online data points that come with it in later generations, this number seems meager.

But in 2002, it was a miracle.

This means huge cash flow, a rebuilding of confidence in the capital market, and that the dying stock is about to take flight and soar to new heights.

He opened his US stock trading account.

That string of numbers has changed.

The original 17500 shares were purchased at a cost of $0.7.

The market value has now reached over $20,000.

Converted to RMB, this move has already earned tens of thousands of yuan.

But this is just the beginning.

The frenzy surrounding this stock has only just begun.

Yu Le exhaled a smoke ring, staring at the upward-pointing red line on the screen, as if he were looking at a money printing machine running at full speed.

Suddenly a head popped out from the side.

It was a student in school uniform who had skipped class to go online. He was waiting for his computer and glanced at Yu Le's screen out of boredom.

"Uncle, what game are you playing? It doesn't look like Legend of Mir."

The student pointed at the candlestick chart, looking utterly clueless and naive.

Yu Le stubbed out his cigarette in the ashtray, which was full of ashes, and smiled.

"This game is called 'The Self-Cultivation of Leeks'."

"Is it fun?"

"Fun. Exciting. But it's a bit nerve-wracking."

Yu Le stood up and patted the student on the shoulder.

"Study hard and spend less time in internet cafes. Otherwise, you'll end up like that green line in this picture."

What does the green line mean?

"Meaning of being harvested."

Yu Le turned off his phone, logged off, and left gracefully.

The student was left scratching his head, completely bewildered, staring at the black screen.

"Are you crazy... to feel superior just from playing a game?"

........

When I got back to the set, it was just in time for dinner.

This time, Yu Le naturally didn't cook.

Cheng Kun held the boxed lunch that looked like pig feed, staring at the few greasy pieces of pork inside, his eyes filled with a melancholy as if he had just broken up with his girlfriend.

He turned his head slowly and looked at Yu Le, who had just wandered back from the internet cafe.

"Brother Yu, don't you love us anymore?"

Yu Le shuddered from the sudden sound of the clip.

Speak like a human.

"My stomach is protesting," Cheng Kun said, clutching his stomach in pain.

As soon as he finished speaking, two small heads popped out from the side.

Shu Chang held up her half-eaten lunchbox in front of Yu Le, her little face scrunched up in protest.

"Uncle! I could have endured the darkness, but you showed me the light! How can I swallow this now!"

Liu Qianqian was more direct. She walked over without saying a word and slammed her untouched lunchbox in front of Yu Le.

Then she stared at him with her big, watery phoenix eyes, without saying a word, but her eyes were full of accusation: You've changed, you weren't like this before.

Faced with the combined accusations of three pairs of eyes—one large and two small—Yu Le's temples throbbed.

He rolled his eyes, choosing to ignore the three burning gazes.

Salted fish also need personal space.

You can't expect him to spend all his time around the stove. Do you really think he's some kind of private chef hired by New Oriental?

The days flew by amidst the chaos and the aroma of food.

Life on the film set was both novel and arduous for Liu Qianqian.

But for Yu Le, it was just a change of scenery to lie down.

During this time, Liu Xiaoli's relentless calls arrived as scheduled, averaging once every three days, precisely at mealtimes.

"Xiao Yu, is Qianqian settling in well over there? Is she eating properly?" Liu Xiaoli on the other end of the phone was full of a mother's anxiety.

Yu Le was squatting in the corner of the guesthouse, holding a Nokia phone in one hand and rapidly peeling potatoes with the other. The potato peels formed a line and fell precisely into the trash can at his feet.

"Don't worry, he eats more than a pig. Look at his face, you won't even recognize him when he gets back."

"Don't try to fool me! Do you think I don't know what the crew's boxed lunches are like?"

"Who said she ate a boxed lunch?" Yu Le threw the peeled potato into the basin of water and picked up another one.

"I cook for myself, four dishes and a soup, no two meals the same. Yesterday it was braised pork ribs, today it's chicken stew with potatoes, and tomorrow I'm planning a hot pot."

There was silence on the other end of the phone.

After a long pause, Liu Xiaoli murmured, "Can I... buy a ticket and go now?"