Xiao An’s reaction was acceptable. Before the other party looked dazed and was about to get angry, he quickly changed his words.
“Just kidding, how could I not know you?” Xiao An tried his best to read the other party’s ID sincerely, “Ye Miao.”
After saying that, he coughed a few times and said in a hoarse voice: “I have had a bad cold recently, and my voice has changed.”
He really wanted to rush to Pan Xi’s house and overturn his table.
It would be too bad if Pan Xi didn’t explain his past social relationships before handing over the account.
Pan Xi had assured him that the account had been abandoned for two years, and Xiao An was relieved to think the account didn’t have a complicated social circle. Even if it did, two years of no contact should have made them irrelevant.
As someone who doesn’t check QQ all year round, Xiao An had only added one person to his wall, showed special concern, and blocked all other messages.
Two days ago, when he was so sick that he didn’t even want to check his phone, Xiao An missed all the group chat messages Ye Miao had sent.
So, when he suddenly learned about the existence of an “online ex-girlfriend,” he was stunned.
At first, Pan Xi had pretended to be the same age as Ye Miao and had an online romance. After meeting in person, however, Ye Miao discovered Pan Xi was a bald male college student five years older than her. She was horrified and broke up with him.
Pan Xi: Don’t worry, don’t worry, don’t worry. She’s just a little girl. What else can she do?
Xiao An: You even deceived an underage girl!
However, Xiao An conveniently forgot that he was pretending to be a minor to deceive his master, which was equally bad.
Xiao An: She threatened to post your ugly meeting photos.
Pan Xi: … Shit [sluggish.jpg].
Pan Xi finally panicked: Why are you playing social networking? Now something bad is going to happen!
Xiao An was also furious: You should’ve told me about such a big security risk earlier!
Pan Xi: What should I do? Log in to your account and chat with her?
Xiao An: You wish. Her master and my master will find out.
If it’s discovered that the account has been switched, V Station will most likely terminate Pan Xi’s contract directly. Not only would two months of hard work go down the drain, but there might also be other complications.
After all, the account “What is Xixizi eating today” wasn’t just some random nobody anymore. If things escalated, it might even affect Wall.
Xiao An absolutely didn’t want that.
Pan Xi: Let’s do this. Try to avoid her as much as possible and don’t say too much, or you’ll expose the truth.
Pan Xi: Once we get the reward and your master-apprentice relationship dissolves, we can withdraw.
Pan Xi: It’ll only take more than two weeks.
Xiao An was stunned: So fast?
Pan Xi: Thanks again, brother. If you really want to socialize, open a new account in the future.
—
Most of the night, the six of them stayed in the game, but the atmosphere felt a bit weird.
The team members finally finished the novice mission and were now happily carrying hoes to mine and hunting for treasure.
He Yuan, however, wasn’t interested in collecting gold coins. He found a new place and quietly began planning to build a bigger house.
Materials, though, weren’t easy to come by. As the burly man wandered the forest in search of supplies, he caught sight of a black-clothed boy walking in the distance.
After Ye Miao’s confrontation, Xixizi had fallen silent, and He Yuan assumed he’d gone offline.
But there, in the distance, the boy in black was approaching, holding a giant brick in each hand.
He looked terrifying.
The other party obviously noticed him approaching but didn’t turn on their microphone. When he got closer, he handed him the brick without a word.
“Does your throat hurt?” He Yuan asked.
Xixizi nodded, controlling their character silently.
In this game, the characters have an array of expressive body movements. According to reviews, the little avatars can even perform poses like “happy to the point of splitting legs”.
“Have you taken any medicine?” He Yuan mused aloud. Xixizi’s family seemed oddly lenient—allowing someone in the second year of high school to stay up all night playing games. And it wasn’t even a holiday.
The boy in black shook his head, jumped twice in the game, and took a few steps forward. When the burly man didn’t immediately follow, he turned back and stopped.
This boy was usually the most talkative, so He Yuan wasn’t used to him suddenly becoming a little mute.
A game notification popped up: Xixizi offered to lead you~
This game truly lived up to its reputation as a flagship title on the Wall. Even the smallest details aligned with the platform’s playful style.
“Where are we going? I’m still looking for materials,” He Yuan said.
The black-clothed boy stretched his arms wide and waved with urgency.
He Yuan clicked the confirmation prompt, and then something unexpected happened.
The black-clothed boy happily walked over, taking the burly uncle’s hand like a big white goose leading Ye Miao earlier.
Many games offer a leading function, but Deserted Island Paradise took it a step further by letting characters hold hands.
Once He Yuan was led, he didn’t need to control the direction of movement anymore. The two avatars had a noticeable height difference—the boy in black only reached the burly man’s neck. Together, they looked like two kids holding hands.
…Something about this felt off.
Xixizi led him across the map, finally arriving at the island’s western coast. There, He Yuan spotted a dilapidated ship.
The ship was filled with tools and materials—everything necessary to build a house, and enough to construct a whole villa.
He Yuan, still immersed in the game, pressed his lips into a tight line.
Where did this ship come from?
They had combed through this area before. Surely, they would’ve noticed such a big boat earlier.
The treasure hunters returned to help transport the supplies. When they saw the ship, Pick Up a 98K muttered, “This isn’t… krypton gold, is it?”
The boy in black responded with a shooting gesture toward him, looking hostile.
Pick Up a 98K said nothing more, but He Yuan understood immediately: Xixizi had bought this with krypton gold.
For the first time, He Yuan opened the interactive actions menu and selected one.
“You just never learn.” The burly man grabbed the boy in black by the collar, lifting him effortlessly before giving him two firm shakes.
Ye Miao disembarked from the ship, a bamboo basket of nails strapped to her back. Her camera angle shifted to Xixizi and lingered there, not moving for a long time.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off about Xixizi. He seemed suspicious, muting his microphone and refusing to speak. It was as if he was afraid of slipping up. Ye Miao resolved to find out what was going on.
After logging off, He Yuan immediately transferred the money Xixizi had spent on the ship back to him.
The game had just launched, so the ship wasn’t cheap—the cost was enough for He Yuan to buy a new set of pens.
He Yuan felt melancholic. He had taken on an apprentice to earn some extra money, but somehow, it was turning into an expense instead.
Trying to be subtle, he shared his frugal spending habits with Xixizi. The boy quickly promised he wouldn’t do it again.
With his deposit balance now lower, He Yuan planned to take a private gig on Wednesday afternoon when he didn’t have classes. But before he could leave, the class’s sports committee intercepted him.
College classes didn’t have much of a community vibe. Being in the same class mainly meant taking the same courses, and most students had their own schedules otherwise.
In He Yuan’s class, this was especially true. They didn’t even organize class gatherings. As a result, the class committee and league secretary often struggled to rally participants for events.
“I finally caught you,” the sports committee member said, blocking He Yuan’s path. “You skipped the fun sports meet last week. Help me out this time.”
Last week, He Yuan had gone to the nearby medical university to look for He Xinyang, conveniently missing the sports meet. He guessed the committee member was now trying to make up for it.
“He’s busy this afternoon,” Xu Zhaoyuan interjected.
“When is the academic god ever free?” The committee member, tall and broad-shouldered from playing basketball, slung an arm over He Yuan’s shoulders. “Why don’t you exercise occasionally? If you stay indoors drawing all day, you’re going to get sick. Look at your pale skin.”
“It’s natural.” He Yuan shrugged him off and started walking. Knowing he couldn’t refuse, he asked, “What do you need?”
Though his grades were stellar, He Yuan exercised regularly. Architecture students, regardless of skill, needed physical stamina. Otherwise, how could they endure the workload?
“It’s simple. Our basketball team is short one person for training. Come be a sparring partner for half a day,” the committee member grinned. “You can play the second position while we test out a new formation for next week’s game.”
“Alright.” He Yuan agreed without much fuss. After spending the week building houses in the game, he hadn’t exercised much since recovering from his cold.
At two o’clock in the afternoon, the sunlight was especially harsh.
He Yuan arrived at the basketball court ten minutes early, dressed in dark sportswear.
The court had been recently renovated, and stepping on it felt satisfying. Even the sound of the ball bouncing against the ground was more pleasant than at other places.
Maybe because of this, the court was always packed, no matter the time.
When He Yuan reached the sidelines, one section of the court was already occupied, so he sat on the steps nearby.
Let the others handle persuading people to give up the court—he was just a sparring partner, not the team’s negotiator.
He Yuan’s eyes drifted lazily across the court, and soon, he spotted a familiar figure playing on the shaded, better-maintained side of the court.
He squinted, confirming it was Xiao An.
There weren’t many players on that side, just a handful, including He Xinyang, who sported a short crew cut.
Xiao An was in a white jersey, playing casually, not even breaking a sweat. But from He Yuan’s past basketball experience in junior high and high school, he could tell Xiao An wasn’t someone to underestimate on the court.
Even so, He Yuan remembered what had happened last week after Xiao An got drunk. That lingering discomfort made him instinctively keep his distance.
Although he had eventually pieced things together, concluding that the sweet taste from Xiao An smelled was just the lipstick he had worn during his live stream that night, it didn’t make things any less awkward.
Still, what kind of man calls another man “sweet”?
He Yuan sat there with a dark expression, waiting. Before long, the sports committee member arrived, dragging along a few teammates and a box of bottled water.
“I knew it’d be full,” the committee member said, shielding his eyes as he scanned the court for players who might be easier to convince—or who weren’t from their school.
“Xiao An’s over there,” one of the shorter players said.
Xiao An was well-known for being approachable and was on good terms with the regulars at this court. Seeing him as their best shot, the group carried the box of water over.
Xiao An had just executed a clean pass, lazily dribbling the ball afterward. Then, with a sudden burst of speed, he darted toward the basket and jumped.
The ball sank into the hoop with precision. On his landing, a corner of his jersey flipped up, revealing a toned and flat set of abs.
The female students watching from under the trees stared in admiration.
“Nice shot!” the sports committee member applauded enthusiastically before gesturing to pause the game. “Bro, can you let us use the court? We’re running team formations.”
Xiao An glanced over, his gaze briefly landing on He Yuan. For a moment, his expression was unreadable—neither his usual easygoing smile nor hostility.
“How about this: we’ll be your opponents,” Xiao An suggested.
He Xinyang, standing beside Xiao An, visibly stiffened. After last week’s encounter, he still harbored some psychological unease toward He Yuan. He frantically sent Xiao An signals with his eyes, silently pleading to decline.
But Xiao An was resolute. “The court’s for everyone. Practicing with unfamiliar opponents will make it more effective, won’t it?”
He turned back to He Yuan, his gaze unmistakably challenging.
He Yuan, usually known for his calm demeanor, felt his temper flare under Xiao An’s look.
Fine. If Xiao An wanted to go head-to-head, he’d gladly oblige.
He Yuan clenched his fists. He was going to teach Xiao An a lesson today.
