015 Respectable Goldfish

  The goldfish stall retty empty today. A lone old man sat behind the ter, leisurely eating tanghulu—died hawthorn skewers. The sight of him enjoying his snack, pletely oblivious to the storm that was about to desd upon him, only fueled my determination.

  I had seen something fun today, so I was in a good mood. But that didn’t mean I would five the partian who had embarrassed me st time. No, today was the day of my glorious revech.

  After sending Gu Jie on an errand to buy tickets for tomorrow’s event, I wasted no time heading straight to the stall.

  I stopped right in front of the goldfish tubs, arms crossed. Let’s see if you mock me again today, old man.

  “Do you remember me, old man?” I asked, my tone brimming with challenge.

  The old man tilted his head slightly, chewing on his tanghulu befiving me a zy gnce.

  “Oh? Who do we have here?” His lips curled into a knowing smirk. “It’s the sucker.”

  I twitched.

  “I’ll show you who’s the sucker, old man.”

  45 Minutes Later...I hadn’t caught a single goldfish. Not one.

  The old man, now fully reed in his chair, let out a satisfied sigh as he fihe st of his tanghulu.

  “Apparently,” he said, watg me struggle, “the sucker was you.”

  I stared at my ruined paper scoop, torn apart by the water and my own desperation. My refle ier looked like a man who had seen the depths of defeat.

  “Oh, e on.”

  The old man leaned back, stretg his arms. “Looks like the suckers were the friends we made along the way.”

  I gave him a deadpan stare. “What are you babbling about? Are you on mushrooms or something?”

  He simply chuckled, clearly having the time of his life.

  Despite my humiliati, I refused to cower. With unwaveriermination, I spped down another and picked up a fresh paper scoop.

  It was frustrating, yes, but strangely fun. Reliving a childhood I never had—experieng something as simple as a festival game—felt oddly fulfilling. I had never pyed a game like this before, and in its own way, the y made it worth the loss.

  Besides, there was always ime.

  The old man watched as I dunked another paper scoop into the water, my brows furrowed in tration. The flimsy paper strained against the weight of the water as I carefully approached a sluggish goldfish he edge. This time for sure…

  Just as I was about to lift it—rip. The scoop tore apart like wet paper.

  “Damn it.”

  The old man snorted. “Kid, why don’t you just buy a goldfish? They only cost 30 coppers. You look like a rich young master—surely you afford it.”

  I clicked my tongue and gave him a side-eye. “It’s not about the prize. It’s about the journey.” I made a sweepiure, as if expining something profound. “The satisfa of earning it with my own skills.”

  Iy, I was bullshitting. There was no way I’d admit that I just sucked at this game.

  The old man faked a cough, c his mouth with his fist. “Heh. So, you’re just stubborn.”

  I shot him a look. He met my gaze with a knowing smirk, as if he saw right through me. Holy, this old man was too suspicious. If it weren’t for the fact that he was the only one running a goldfish stall here—and that this was the only arcade game I hadn’t beate—I wouldn’t have bothered ing back.

  I exhaled, trying to shake off my frustration. Fog oer again, I dipped another paper scoop into the tub. This time, I ighe bigger, faster goldfish and targeted the smallest, slowest one.

  My scoop slid us belly. I lifted it carefully, my breath hitg as the paper held. No way. No way. No way—

  The goldfish wriggled, but I kept my hand steady. It was still on the scoop.

  A sed passed.

  Then another.

  And then—

  “HAH~! HAHAHAHA~~!” I shot up from my seat, my victorious ughter booming across the empty stall. “SUCK IT, OLD MAN!”

  The old man simply chuckled. “Took you long enough, sucker.”

  The moment of victory sted exactly two seds.

  Because in my excitement, I moved too suddenly—too recklessly.

  RIP.

  The paper scoop tore apart.

  The goldfish, my hard-earned prize, flopped bato the water with a tiny spsh.

  I stared.

  “No. No. NOOOO~! FISHY!”

  The old man clutched his stomad cackled. “HA! KEKEKE~! KAKAKAKA~! A sucker to the end!”

  I turo gre at him, my jaw ched. This damn old man. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he was actually a demo here to test my patience.

  Without another word, I smmed another set of coppers onto the ter and grabbed a fresh paper scoop. Alright. Focus. Breathe. One more time.

  I calmed my heart like a fasting priest. No unnecessary movements. No sudden outbursts.

  Slowly, I dipped the scoop into the water, eyes locked onto my target. I maneuvered uhe smallest goldfish again, lifting it with the delicate precision of a master surgeon. The paper held. The goldfish wobbled, but I kept my hand steady.

  Three seds passed. Then four. Alright, good. No sudden movements this time.

  I gently transferred the fish into the old man’s waiting hands. He hummed in amusement but didn’t tease me this time. With practiced ease, he pced my hard-earned prize into a small gss bowl filled with water.

  “There,” he said, pushing the bowl toward me. “A goldfish, won fair and square.”

  I exhaled, finally allowing myself to rex. It’s dohe demon has beeed.

  “…Worth it.”

  I peered into the small gss bowl, watg my hard-earned goldfish swim in slow, zy circles. Victory felt so much sweeter after sufferied, humiliatis.

  Now, there was just one problem.

  “So… what do I feed the goldfish?”

  The old man shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “How would I know?”

  “…You owall.”

  He scratched his , looking genuinely fused. “And?”

  “What do you mean and? You’re literally running a goldfish stall! You sell them to people! How do you not know what they eat?”

  The old man thought about it for a sed, then nodded sagely. “I don’t know.”

  I stared at him.

  This. This was the guy I lost to.

  “What kind of response even is that?” I demanded. “Isn’t this basiowledge for you?”

  The old man clicked his tongue. “You’re askin’ the wrong questions, kid.”

  “…Enlightehen.”

  He jabbed a fi the goldfish. “It’s a girl.”

  I squi him. “The fuck? You tell me her gender but not what she eats?”

  The old man crossed his arms, pleased with himself. “That’s right.”

  I pihe bridge of my nose. “Fine. What you tell me?”

  “Just feed it meat so it grows strong. Pork, maybe?”

  I nearly choked. “Pork?!”

  “Yeah. Meat’s good frowth. You want a strong fish, don’t you?”

  I looked at him. Then I looked at the tiny, fragile creature swimming in my bowl.

  “…Even I knorong that advice is.”

  The old man shrugged again. “Hey, don’t listen to me. I’m just a humble goldfish salesman.”

  I desperately wao ask him how he even got this job, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t like the answer.

  “Maybe beef sounds better,” the old man mused, rubbing his . “I don’t know. I am craving beef.”

  “Not helping, old man.”

  I sighed, shifting my attention bay goldfish. She swam in slow, looping circles, her delicate fins fluttering like silk ribbons uer. The golden-e of her scales shimmered uhe ntern light, atuated by streaks of white that lihe tips of her tail. Her round, beady eyes carried the same kind of innoce as a clueless baby animal.

  How could something so small and simple look so damn happy?

  I smiled to myself before turning back to the old man. “You know what? How about you make yourself useful and help me name her?”

  The old man raised a bushy brow. “Really? Like… seriously?”

  “I don’t mind. I suck at giving names.”

  Without hesitation, the old man decred, “Ren Jingyi.”

  “Whoa~ that’s fast.”

  “The character Ren for ‘person’ and Jingyi for ‘respectable.’”

  “A respectable person, huh?” I chuckled. “I like it. Imagine a goldfish being a more respectable person than a real person.”

  I leaned down, peering at the tiny creature in her bowl. “Do you like it, Ren Jingyi? Jingy’er? Little Goldie?”

  She swam in another cheerful loop, her little fins fpping in delight.

  I grinned, but after a moment, my excitement dimmed. As happy as she looked, the small gss bowl felt… g. If I was going to keep her, I o do it right.

  “I should find a pce that sells a bigger bowl,” I muttered to myself. “Maybe add some sand… a few greens… something to make it more iing for her.”

  The old man gave me a sideways gnce before smirking. “What’s this? Pnning to build a pace for your little fish?”

  “Of course,” I said, nodding seriously. “She’s Ren Jingyi, after all. A respectable fish deserves a respectable home.”