Chapter 1

As Jing Huan stepped out of the airport, a gust of wind happened to blow straight into his face.

He looked up—the sky had already darkened. The weather forecast this morning had just issued a warning that the typhoon would make landfall tonight, yet the whole city was already starting to get windy.

In this kind of weather, flights were basically impossible.

But his cousin still insisted on booking a ticket to the U.S., saying she couldn’t stay a moment longer. She’d fly today if possible; if not, she’d stay at the airport hotel.

Jing Huan had just gotten into the car when his phone rang.

“Huaihuan, did your sister leave?” It was his roommate, Gao Zixiang.

Jing Huan wasn’t in the mood for anything right now: “Your sister’s the one who left.”

Gao Zixiang: “…Can you not be so sensitive? What I meant was, did your sister really go to America?”

A light rain began to fall outside. Jing Huan watched the raindrops on the car window and responded with a sullen “Mhm.”

Gao Zixiang: “Sigh, your sister really had it rough. But if you ask me, it wasn’t that serious. Online stuff—who even remembers who you are once you unplug the internet? Going abroad over something like this really isn’t worth it.”

The moment he recalled the reason his cousin left, Jing Huan felt a surge of anger: “Do you really have to bring up those idiots from the game right now?”

“No, no.” Dealing with a siscon was tricky. Knowing he was in a bad mood, Gao Zixiang quickly stopped himself and changed the subject. “Alright, hurry back to the dorm after dropping them off. There’s another heartbroken soul in the dorm today. I can’t handle it alone.”

Jing Huan frowned, “Who got hurt?”

“There are only three of us in the dorm, who else could it be?”

As soon as Gao Zixiang finished speaking, he heard a sobbing sound resembling a pig’s squeal from beside him. He quickly said, “Oh dear, Hao’er, don’t cry. Wipe your tears first.”

Recognizing the voice of his other roommate Lu Wenhao, Jing Huan started the car: “What’s up, Hao’er?”

“It’s a long story, just come back first,” Gao Zixiang said.

Lu Wenhao sniffled: “Buy some beer on your way back, Jing Huan.”

After parking the car, Jing Huan ducked into a nearby convenience store. Knowing the drinking capacity of those two, he bought just three bottles of beer, tucked them under his clothes, and headed back to the dorm.

As soon as he opened the dorm door, before he could even step inside, he heard Lu Wenhao’s wailing from within: “Why would he do this to me?!”

“How did she treat you?” Jing Huan pushed the door open and walked in.

Lu Wenhao was sitting in the middle of the dorm, a box of tissues on his lap, genuinely crying.

Gao Zixiang had a headache from the situation. Seeing Jing Huan was like spotting a lifeline, and he quickly jumped up from his chair: “You’re finally back.”

Jing Huan closed the door and handed him the plastic bag. “What’s going on?”

Gao Zixiang looked at Lu Wenhao: “Should I say it, or will you?”

Lu Wenhao was slightly chubby, and by now, his face was red from crying: “I won’t say it! I won’t say it!”

“Alright, alright, I’ll say it, I’ll say it! Stop crying!” Gao Zixiang sighed. “Do you remember Hao’er’s online love interest?”

“…They were on voice call 24/7. I even dreamed of listening to them show off their love at night. Do you think I could forget?” Jing Huan paused. “What, did they break up?”

Gao Zixiang nodded solemnly.

“I thought it was something serious…” Jing Huan exhaled in relief and began taking off his jacket. “Stop crying, Hao’er. It’s just a breakup. Men don’t shed tears easily.”

“The key isn’t just that,” Gao Zixiang said with an awkward expression. “You should know how much money Hao’er spent on that online relationship in the game, right?”

The game Lu Wenhao played was called “Nine Heroes,” a legendary game that had been popular for ten years, notorious for being both time-consuming and expensive. Jing Huan had played it a few years back and knew that even a single in-game outfit could cost over a thousand yuan in that damned game.

He’d ask Lu Wenhao for clothes every time he listened to the girl’s voice messages, and since Lu Wenhao was generous by nature, she almost always succeeded.

“Just buying some in-game outfits, how much could it cost?” To comfort his roommate, Jing Huan deliberately downplayed the matter.

Lu Wenhao choked up: “I’ve been topping up her cultivation points for her all these past six months.”

Jing Huan: “…That’s not too bad then, just a few thousand.”

Lu Wenhao’s sobs grew louder: “She has eight pieces of purple gear, six of which I bought for her, and one of them I even upgraded to fifteen gem slots.”

Jing Huan: “…”

Jing Huan stepped forward and patted his shoulder: “Hao’er, we need to act like men. We absolutely can’t stoop to settling scores with exes after a breakup.”

Lu Wenhao had just started to calm down, but this reminder brought back that surge of emotion: “Of course I won’t! Am I crying over the money?! I’m crying because he deceived me! I’m crying over the sincerity and emotions I invested over the past six months!”

Jing Huan asked, “What did she scam you out of?”

Gao Zixiang couldn’t take it anymore: “That person is a man.”

“Pfft, what’s the big deal, so it’s just a guy…” Jing Huan was halfway through comforting when his words got stuck.

Lu Wenhao: “Waaahhh——”

Jing Huan was stunned: “A man?!”

Gao Zixiang: “No need to repeat it, can’t you see our dorm is about to be flooded?”

“No way…” Jing Huan was shocked, “That voice… could it really be a man?!”

He had heard Lu Wenhao’s voice chats with his online girlfriend before. The girl’s voice was sweet and syrupy, every sentence ending with a lingering tone, as if coated in sugar. When she acted coquettish, it could give him goosebumps all over.

“It was a voice changer,” Gao Zixiang said. “This morning, his girlfriend probably forgot to turn it on and used a male voice to ask him for new in-game outfits. Hearing him act all coquettish with that voice nearly killed me on the spot… It was deeper than even Old Yan’s and sounded like someone well over thirty.”

Old Yan was their college advisor.

Lu Wenhao was crying so hard he could barely breathe.

Jing Huan didn’t know what to say either: “Haven’t you two video-called?”

“No, I’ve only seen photos.” Lu Wenhao said, “He admitted they were fake.”

Jing Huan: “…”

At this point, could that scammer still deny it?!

“You never even had a video call, and you gave him so much money?”

“This is perfectly normal.” Gao Zixiang popped open a beer and handed it to Lu Wenhao. “Aren’t online relationships all about the anticipation and fantasies before meeting? Hao’er just had terrible luck—ran into such a ruthless one right off the bat. I thought the worst that could happen was getting sent fake photos…”

Lu Wenhao sniffled, “It’s not about the money—I just feel awful, and disgusted! I even deleted my account!”

Gao Zixiang was shocked: “Deleted it?! Are you crazy, Hao’er?!”

“Just the account—the gear and pets are still there.” Lu Wenhao wiped his tears. “You don’t get it. My account had a couple name with theirs, and we even bound as ‘Eternal Lovers’—fucking ridiculous.”

Gao Zixiang: “…”

“Eternal Lovers” is a marriage system in “Nine Heroes”. After marriage, male and female players can apply for a binding contract at the Matchmaker’s place. Once bound, the marital relationship between the two game accounts will be permanently maintained unless the accounts are listed for consignment sale or deletion requests are filed.

Gao Zixiang said: “Forget it Hao’er, just treat this as a lesson for yourself. We won’t fall into the same pit twice – no more online relationships ever, to completely avoid being fooled a second time!”

Lu Wenhao asked tearfully: “If I don’t have online relationships, what’s even the point of me playing games then?”

“Why can’t you play games without online dating?” Gao Zixiang retorted, “I’ve been playing ‘Nine Heroes’ for so many years and never got married even once.”

Lu Wenhao: “That’s because you have a childhood sweetheart girlfriend!”

Gao Zixiang choked and turned to the person beside him: “Then look at Huanhuan, he played ‘Nine Heroes’ for years too and never had an online romance, right?”

“If I were as handsome as Jing Huan, with so many girls chasing after me, who would bother with online dating? Besides, he was still in high school when he played games, too busy with studies. And what’s wrong with online dating? Look at Jing Huan’s cousin, she’s so pretty and has such great qualities, yet she’s also into online dating…” Lu Wenhao trailed off as he spoke.

Gao Zixiang rubbed his forehead with a headache.

Damn, I just stepped on a landmine.

Jing Huan listened in silence, neither reacting nor making a sound.

Lu Wenhao: “No, Huanhuan, I just let it slip. I’ve had such a bad day today, so please don’t take it to heart.”

Jing Huan snapped back to reality and suddenly pulled a chair over to sit beside Lu Wenhao: “Hao’er, are you really feeling that bad right now?”

Lu Wenhao was taken aback: “Wh-what?”

Jing Huan thought for a moment: “If I gave you two choices—first, getting catfished by a guy online, or second, having your account permanently banned due to a bug—which would you pick?”

“Option two, of course!” Lu Wenhao looked utterly baffled. “Why are you asking this?”

Just got tricked in an online romance, is it really that painful? Could it be worse than deleting your account?

Jing Huan hugged the back of the chair, lost in thought.

Gao Zixiang vaguely felt something was off: “Huanhuan, what are you planning?”

The phone on the table suddenly chimed. Lu Wenhao picked it up and took a glance, nearly losing his breath on the spot, then pressed his philtrum in a panic.

The two quickly stepped forward to support him, Jing Huan took his phone and looked at it.

[Sweetheart: Honey, I’ve been thinking all afternoon and still feel so sad. I truly like you so much, but it seems our fate can only go this far [crying rabbit emoji]]

[Sweetheart: Let me send you my real photo. I hope you’ll always remember this silly boy who will forever be watching over you tenderly from somewhere on Earth.]

[Sweetheart: [image]]

In the photo, the middle-aged man has put on a bit of weight, with a small patch of white hair at his crown. His eyes are filled with tears as he gazes affectionately into the camera.

Jing Huan: “…”

Gao Zixiang: “Damn it! This is just inhuman! Adding insult to injury! Hao’er, Hao’er, hang in there!”

This wave of photo attacks took half of Lu Wenhao’s life.

He jolted up from his deathbed-like state: “I’m going to delete him! I’m abandoning this QQ account! This QQ is tainted now!”

Jing Huan, deep in thought, quickly reached out to stop him: “Wait Haohao, I have something to say to him.”

Lu Wenhao was moved: “What’s wrong Huanhuan, are you going to roast him for me?”

“What’s the point of cursing? It’s not worth wasting time on someone like that.” Jing Huan took the phone and started typing rapidly with lowered head.

Gao Zixiang leaned in to look: “Then why did you take Hao’er’s phone?”

[Little Sweetheart: Hao Hao baby, why aren’t you replying to me…]

[LWH: Hello?]

[Little Sweetheart: OvO Baby! I’m here!]

【LWH: Send me the link to the voice changer.】

Gao Zixiang: “…”

Gao Zixiang: “?”