Chapter 67: Don’t Play with Fire, Boy

“Holy crap! Fire!” Chen Fan, still lost in his dreams, squinted his eyes and vaguely saw flames flickering on the bedsheet. He shot up in terror. Luckily, the fire hadn’t spread yet, though the sheet was likely beyond saving.

“Elder, wake up, wake up! The fire’s about to reach the deck of cards!” Chen Fan grabbed the Elder card and shook it violently.

The Elder rubbed his sleepy eyes, glanced over, and then turned back dismissively. “Calm yourself, young man. It’s just an illusion.”

“What? An illusion?” Chen Fan asked in surprise, covering his mouth with one hand. He cautiously drew back the bed curtain and saw that his roommates were still sound asleep. Only then did he lower his hand and ask in a hushed voice, “Where did this fire come from?”

The Elder shrugged, nestling himself back into his sleeping bag. “Of course it’s from you. I don’t have such peculiar tastes. If I really wanted to prank you, you’d probably already be causing chaos in a psychiatric hospital.”

Frowning, Chen Fan tossed the Elder card aside, then, brimming with curiosity, reached out to touch the flames. “It’s true. It’s all fake. I wonder if I can snuff it out.”

Imitating how people catch fireflies on TV, Chen Fan cupped his hands over the fire, and the flames disappeared instantly, with no chance of rekindling.

“Amazing. So, my identity today is…” Chen Fan had a rough guess in his mind. To confirm it, he sifted through the deck, targeting specific cards.

“Sure enough, it’s this one—the Arsonist.” Chen Fan held up the blank Arsonist card, a knowing smile on his lips.

“If I used this trick to busk on the streets, I’d probably rake in quite a bit in tips. Maybe I’d even catch the eye of some research institute and land a grant.”

Gazing at his calloused hands, Chen Fan’s mind began to wander, imagining the life of a successful man—luxury cars, indulgence, the greatest magician, no, sorcerer of the century. No one could explain such supernatural phenomena, nor could anyone expose his tricks.

“By the dark power of Gunala—Fireball, ignite!” Chen Fan, caught up in a bout of childish fantasy, waved an imaginary wand like a character from a magical girl show.

Only darkness greeted him; there was not the faintest spark.

“Maybe I got the incantation wrong?” Chen Fan considered, then tried, “Aladdin’s lamp, grant me a fireball.”

He clenched and unclenched his fingers, but nothing happened.

“Could it be this one?” Chen Fan hesitated for a moment.

“Let the fireball blossom for you.” He mimicked the rhythm with his hands, but still no flame appeared.

“Hey, Elder, how exactly does the Arsonist’s fireball work?” Chen Fan respectfully retrieved the Elder card, cradling it in his palm.

The zipper only half undone, the Elder poked his head out reluctantly, his hand struggling out of the sleeping bag to demonstrate. “Hmm? Oh, this gesture.”

“What? Isn’t this a little embarrassing?” Chen Fan imitated the orchid-shaped fingers, twisting his wrist as flamboyantly as the Elder, resembling a cabaret dancer.

“And finally, like this, and it’ll work.” The Elder, in a soft, coquettish tone, brought his orchid fingers to his face and snapped his fingers crisply. Chen Fan followed suit, and sure enough, a ball of fire flared up at his fingertips.

Watching the flames dance at his fingertips, Chen Fan’s childish glee bubbled up. He kept transferring the ball of fire between his hands as if juggling a hot potato. With time, the flame grew from the size of a fingernail to as large as a flatbread.

“I bet this fireball has all the properties of real fire.”

Holding the fireball, Chen Fan touched it to various flammable objects on the bed. Each caught fire easily.

“Is this card like the Witch? Will I be able to use real fire later on?” Chen Fan still wouldn’t let the Elder sleep, pestering him relentlessly.

The Elder couldn’t even be bothered to open his eyes. “Yes, yes, with enough buildup you could even summon hellfire. Satisfied now?”

Chen Fan blew out the flame with a single breath, saying gleefully, “So I could be a superhero, like those in Marvel, saving the world?”

The Elder blew at the few remaining strands of fringe on his forehead, grumbling, “With your character, you’re destined to be the villain—the one who gets defeated in the end.”

“I’m too kind to be the villain! Obviously, I’d stand with justice,” Chen Fan retorted.

The Elder didn’t want to argue further. He turned over in his sleeping bag. “There’s no side of justice; before victory is decided, you only know your own position. Everything else is either buried and forgotten, or sung in praise.”

“But I can throw hellfire, and with the abilities from the other cards, I’d be unbeatable!” Chen Fan spread his hands confidently, unafraid of anything.

“Setting off fireworks is hellfire too. You could put on the coolest fireworks show ever,” the Elder chuckled from within his cocoon. “Stop dreaming. Just focus on mastering the cards. If you can grasp the basics of all the cards in your lifetime, consider yourself lucky.”

“Fine,” Chen Fan replied coolly.

“And don’t play with fire. If a kid sees you and gets scared, that’s no good,” the Elder added.

“Alright, I absolutely won’t,” Chen Fan answered, thoroughly deflated.

—

“Hmph, I don’t believe this,” Chen Fan muttered.

Once all his roommates had gone to class, Chen Fan started practicing in the dorm by himself. The Elder card was buried under his blanket, surrounded by a circle of unwashed socks as a deterrent. This time, no one would disturb his play with fire.

To set the mood, Chen Fan put on some soft music and started a graceful orchid dance, spiraling his hands from his waist up, abandoning the last vestige of embarrassment. He let himself go completely.

“Yes, this is the feeling.”

Without pausing, he switched to his other hand, repeating the same dance. Flames bloomed on both hands.

“Now, let’s see if it feels any different.”

Like a mad scientist conducting his own experiment, Chen Fan waited until both fireballs had grown large enough, then slowly brought his hands together, merging the flames.

“Still not big enough, but already not bad,” Chen Fan said, admiring the half-man-sized fireball in his hands.

Next, he tried to make the fireball move on its own. But the moment it left his fingertips, it scattered into a shower of sparks, falling like dust to the floor.

“You’re still lacking, boy. When you can cook a boiled fish with real fire, then talk,” the Elder muttered from under the covers, secretly watching everything.

“You saw all that? I thought the stinky socks would keep you at bay,” Chen Fan said, unfazed, as he showed off his progress to the Elder. “So? Improving fast, right? Soon I’ll be able to summon a pillar of fire.”

The Elder nodded. “Indeed. With the experience from the Witch card last time, your fusion skills have improved a lot. I believe you’ll soon be setting off fireworks.”

“Hmph, I’m destined to be the hero,” Chen Fan declared, clenching his fist and flicking away the flames with a flourish.

The Elder watched with an amused expression. “Right, and heroes don’t have to attend classes.”

“What did you say?” Sensing something amiss, Chen Fan instinctively glanced at the time and let out a dry laugh.

“I quit being the hero.”