Tang Yu’s blue eyes stared at Shen Junxing’s message. He hadn’t said “okay” or “not okay,” but: “I’ll never be mad at Big Brother.”
“Big brother,” “never”—the combination sounded overly innocent and saccharine, like a dessert wrapped in honey that made people want to bite into it even if it hid poison.
“Because Big Brother is a good person.”
“The best brother in the world.”
Above the chat box, the words “The other person is typing…” kept appearing.
Before Shen Junxing could reply, Tang Yu hurriedly dumped out a basketful of sugary words: “Gentle, thoughtful, understanding, a great hero—that’s who Big Brother is.”
“I like Big Brother the most.”
The “typing…” indicator finally stopped.
One second. Two seconds. In that short silence, Tang Yu felt like a century had passed.
Shen Junxing: “Big Brother likes Little Yu the most, too.”
Seeing him call himself “Big Brother” again, Tang Yu finally let out a breath, as if he had locked the demon back in the box and brought back the harmless older brother.
Fresh air and the sounds around him finally returned to his senses.
He overheard the players talking: “Maybe Tang Yu’s affection level isn’t high enough, so we can’t get info on Shen Junxing? Should we boost affection with him?”
“We don’t have to go through Tang Yu. The game’s pretty open-ended. With a name like Shen Junxing, we can just doxx him.”
Tang Yu couldn’t bear it anymore. He quickly tried to message Shen Junxing, but halfway through typing, he realized—just like before, he couldn’t say the word “players.”
“The people who took the bus back to school with me yesterday want to meet you, but they might bring you danger.”
Shen Junxing: “For example?”
Tang Yu frowned: “They act on impulse and stop at nothing to get what they want. They don’t care about hurting others—or themselves. They’re fearless. They’re not even afraid of death!”
Trying a metaphor, Tang Yu said: “It’s like… they treat this world as a game, and they’re the players who do whatever they want.”
As long as he didn’t say “they are players,” it actually went through!
Shen Junxing: “Sounds interesting.”
It’s not interesting at all!
Shen Junxing: “Since they want my info, why not use it as a bargaining chip and give them a task?”
Tang Yu froze.
Shen Junxing: “If they’re not even afraid of death, then post a quest that makes them die. That should be fun, shouldn’t it?”
Though it was only text, Tang Yu could almost hear Shen Junxing’s smiling tone.
Shen Junxing: “Just kidding.”
Shen Junxing: “Did Little Yu get used to sleeping at the dorm last night?”
Shen Junxing changed the topic quickly, as if he had truly just made a lighthearted joke earlier and was only now moving on to the serious matter.
Tang Yu’s chaotic thoughts were immediately drawn into the rhythm of the conversation led by Shen Junxing, and he subconsciously replied, “It was okay.”
Shen Junxing: “Really? Little Yu didn’t bring his pillow or lumbar cushion. I worried the whole night yesterday—how did you manage?”
All of Tang Yu’s bedding had been carefully chosen by Shen Junxing.
Tang Yu still remembered when they moved into their shared rental apartment. Shen Junxing bent over seriously to measure the bed’s dimensions, his brow ridge prominent and his eyes soft: “Little Yu likes a soft bed, but too soft isn’t good for your back. How about I get you a lumbar cushion too?”
The bed had silk sheets, and the pillow was one Shen Junxing replaced several times before finding the most comfortable one for Tang Yu.
Back then, Tang Yu lay on the bed, feeling the smooth silk under his palms, while Shen Junxing murmured beside him about what material was best for the winter duvet.
Tang Yu replied: “My roommate lent me a blanket and pillow.”
Shen Junxing: “Are you really comfortable sleeping like that?”
The way Shen Junxing kept asking made it feel like he wasn’t just asking about bedding and the bed.
He had been part of Tang Yu’s life since Tang Yu was seven. Tang Yu had gotten used to having Shen Junxing around.
Used to the well-prepared bedding, the warm milk before bed, the gentle goodnight wishes from Shen Junxing.
But… so what?
Tang Yu clenched his jaw unconsciously and told himself: It only takes 21 days to form a new habit.
He repeated this to himself over and over. The message he typed out looked especially cold and firm: “I’ll get used to it soon.”
Shen Junxing: “That dorm room has been empty for so long. It hasn’t been lived in for ages, it really needs a good cleaning. I happen to be free this afternoon—why don’t I go over and clean it up?”
Tang Yu: “No need, I can do it myself.”
Shen Junxing: “But Little Yu isn’t good at this kind of thing.”
“Hello, do you need help?” A player suddenly popped up in front of Tang Yu, staring at him eagerly. Startled, Tang Yu quickly shut his phone and shook his head in panic.
“Do you need me to do something for you?”
Another player appeared.
“No.”
Tang Yu lowered his head—only to bump into another player crawling out from under the desk, who asked cheerfully, “Hi~ Is there anything you need me to do?”
Tang Yu: “!”
Tang Yu realized these players were extremely persistent. It was like they were convinced he needed help.
Just like how Shen Junxing insisted on helping him clean.
The black phone screen lit up again, showing Shen Junxing’s new message: “Since Little Yu’s classmates are so enthusiastic, why not let them do the cleaning?”
Tang Yu’s pupils shrank. He quickly looked up at the classroom’s surveillance camera.
Shen Junxing: “And have them bring you breakfast too. It’s not good to have an empty stomach in the morning.”
Shen Junxing… had been watching him all along.
He had been watching him the entire time…
That pervasive sense of being watched enveloped Tang Yu like a shadow, making it hard for him to breathe.
“Don’t look at me.” Tang Yu said in a low voice. He spoke quickly and urgently, and that usually soft tone now carried a trace of panic and irritation.
Crouched under the desk, Yan Lang caught a glimpse from this angle—those blue eyes, wet and shimmering like waves. The shadow of the cap hid their exact shape, but the watery hue stood out vividly.
Something pricked at Yan Lang’s heart. He reflexively closed his eyes and muttered awkwardly, “I’m not looking anymore.”
The other two standing players averted their gazes from Tang Yu and exchanged looks.
Shen Junxing: “I’m just worried you might be bullied by your classmates.”
“Sad puppy face.jpg”
Tang Yu: “Stop bullying me.”
He tried hard to keep his voice steady, but the end of his sentence still trembled.
Shen Junxing: “How could I bear to bully Little Yu?”
Yan Lang: “Huh? I didn’t.”
These two replies came almost simultaneously.
Tang Yu didn’t dare vent at Shen Junxing, so he lifted his eyes abruptly, red-rimmed, and glared at Yan Lang under the desk.
This time, Yan Lang finally saw those eyes clearly.
Round inner corners, upturned outer corners, slightly wide double eyelids giving off a melancholic nobility. The thick, curled lashes were almost absurdly pretty. The pupils were a dreamy blue, like exquisitely crafted BJD doll eyes—with filters.
Even knowing this was a game world, he had to admit it felt too real. Every NPC model looked lifelike, but only this one made Yan Lang feel he was interacting with something too perfect to be real.
In that dazed moment, Yan Lang forgot what he’d meant to say. He sat there like a fool, crouched under the desk, blankly staring as his eyes moved from Tang Yu’s eyes to his hands.
Those hands were unbelievably beautiful—every knuckle tinged slightly pink, with even the nail beds shaped perfectly.
The lighting on the haunted bus had been too dim. He hadn’t realized this NPC’s hands were so well-designed too.
A soft inhale came. Yan Lang looked up again and saw the NPC using the back of his hand to subtly wipe his eyes, as if he’d just secretly cried.
He lowered his hand again. There was a trace of moisture on the back of it.
His long lashes were also slightly damp, glistening like tiny pearls. Those reddened blue eyes looked at Yan Lang as a muffled voice came through the mask: “I do need help.”
“…Ah.” Yan Lang was a beat late before replying: “What do you need me to do?”
…
“Brother Yan, the system didn’t show us a quest. Do we still need to run errands for Tang Yu?” one player asked in confusion.
Another said, “Should we go check the progress of that human-flesh search on She Qulin?”
Yan Lang wasn’t sure if fawning over this flower-vase NPC was the right move. After all, while he had accepted the breakfast errand from Tang Yu, no quest had been logged in the system.
“Go ahead if you want,” Yan Lang said casually. As the only player with a special skill, he had naturally gathered a few followers, but he didn’t care much about them.
“I’ll go check She Qulin then.” One player left the group.
Another one beside Yan Lang said, “Brother Yan, let’s just take the NPC’s food—it saves time.”
He was referring to the tea eggs and bread some NPCs had left in the classroom.
If it were before, Yan Lang might’ve done just that. After all, it was his money that bought the game; the NPCs’ stuff was practically his.
But now, Yan Lang shook his head, “Those aren’t tasty.”
In truth, he had realized: what he’d asked from Tang Yu earlier was probably the breakfast Tang Yu had prepared for himself.
He had eaten the NPC’s delicious breakfast, and if he gave back something bad in return…
…Would Tang Yu say again, “Stop bullying me”?
