Chapter 15: I’m Not Unaware of Your Gaze That Crosses the Line of Friendship

Only one cocktail, and the producer collapsed directly onto the table—what kind of alcohol tolerance was this?

The heat radiating from his body clearly indicated a fever—how had he seemed perfectly fine just moments ago? His entire weight now leaned on her. If she hadn’t been physically fit, he would have knocked her over. Now, like a sturdy phone stand, she bent at a 60-degree angle yet managed to hold him steady. The wind blew at that moment, mingling with Bai Jingchuan’s scent—crisp and damp, like... rain-soaked leaves. Their brief encounters had been fleeting, like dew sliding off a leaf or snow brushing against glass, condensing into droplets of mist. She shouldn’t have been moved by these accidental intersections, but here Bai Jingchuan was, his nose red from the cold, completely drained of energy, all his weight resting on her. He had worn the same suit for a month straight, without even a coat in this weather—it was no wonder he had caught a fever...

Did he not pay attention to anything outside of work? Was he utterly incapable of taking care of himself?

The nighttime diners had changed, and those around them glanced over, assuming it was a lover’s playful act. The bar owner stepped out: “Need help?”

Something soft brushed against her neck—a head rested on Jiang Huan’s shoulder. Could it be his lips? When she looked up, she saw the thirty-something-year-old bar owner with a lip piercing giving her an affectionate smile. Jiang Huan steadied his head on her shoulder, gesturing toward the nearby storage room. The owner nodded and turned back inside. Something felt off to Jiang Huan—did visiting Single Demon’s shop require taking off an apron?

The diners had become spectators, as if watching a free idol drama unfold. Indeed, a handsome man in a suit and shirt leaning on a woman in canvas shoes with half-dyed hair made for quite the scene—”the sorrow of a domineering CEO couldn’t be concealed; drunk on the streets in the midnight chill, he finally revealed his vulnerable side when he saw the girl he liked.” If a luxury car pulled up next, Jiang Huan could help him stagger into the car, only to be pulled inside before the door closed. The car would drive away slowly, the final scene showing the girl’s arm left behind and the man passionately kissing her—a classic “domineering CEO falls in love with me” trope.

But Hugh Grant wasn’t such a vulgar person. Every encounter with him exuded elegance, meticulousness, and flawlessness... He was like a miracle descending at midnight. The first time she noticed his beautiful eyes was by the sea. Now, with his eyes closed, she felt a sense of relief—not everyone could escape his scrutinizing gaze. His cheeks, drained of energy, resembled characters from fairy tales, though she hadn’t figured out which one yet. Supporting him required strength; after struggling for a long while, she finally held him securely, her waist braced against the wall-mounted table. She sighed: “Lonely like a pitiful little animal... Invincible when strong, but when weak... I’ll let you lean on me for now.”

Just as she was momentarily touched by the night breeze, the bar owner arrived with a delivery cart, clanging loudly. He pointed at Jiang Huan: “Put him on.”

“What?”

“Him.” The bar owner acted as if this were routine. “Why so surprised? Isn’t this how everyone gets treated when they get drunk on Renwu Road?”

Jiang Huan was grateful that Renwu Road was a city that never slept, making her appear less helpless. Passersby were used to it. Every floor above the street housed shops; for every open store below, there were people upstairs still awake. The lights blurred the night, keeping them sober despite the fatigue. Knocking on the storage room door at two in the morning, Single Demon was clearly engrossed in gaming inside. Though his home was on the sixth floor of the same building, opposite a cat café where the owner was kind and the cats adorable, he often slept in the storage room due to his obsessive love for games. Single Demon appeared with dark circles under his eyes but didn’t look tired, his face filled with surprise: “The white horse princess brings the snow prince—why the cart?”

The man on the cart hadn’t woken up yet. Jiang Huan liked being friends with Single Demon because too many people wore fake masks—he was one of the few real people in her life. But when the usually considerate Single Demon made a sarcastic remark, it took her a moment to react, glaring at him fiercely.

“Oh, this is the producer.” Single Demon laughed more openly. “The god you admire.”

“Don’t just laugh. I need to return the tin pumpkin cart—you help him get out of the cart.” Jiang Huan pushed Bai Jingchuan toward Single Demon, exhaling in relief: “He has a fever and still drank.”

“Well, dressed so lightly—if it’s not a brain issue, then he must be sacrificing himself for others.”

“…He’s not like this during the day. He’s very capable and suave, even helped our outsourced employee get a special exemption access card, though he set rules, giving her probation. Then he went to the planetarium for materials, wearing only a shirt. Oh right, who buys the same coat repeatedly? After lending one to the outsourced sister, he still had another—one that looks so rigid. Who wears peaked lapels to work? I want to throw away everything in his closet… Why are you looking at me like that?”

Single Demon maintained a faint smile, his silver hair paired with a carefree expression as if he understood her heart. Jiang Huan blushed slightly but didn’t attempt to deny it: “It’s not like he’s a bad person. Would distancing myself make you believe me? If I must be misunderstood, he’s not a bad option.”

Jiang Huan returned the pumpkin cart across the road, panting heavily as sweat dripped from her forehead. Single Demon remained calm: “Your doll has arrived.”

Holding the controller and removing his headphones, his tousled bangs and dazed eyes made him look either sleep-deprived or casually languid. In this highly competitive urban jungle, Single Demon maintained an unreasonable nonchalance. Everyone’s burnout was irrelevant to him; his face spelled out, “Relax, everything will be fine.” Seeing Jiang Huan’s brightening eyes, he pointed to the cardboard box by the door: “Your doll.”

When Jiang Huan saw the doll, she exclaimed—

“Are you excited now? Time to pay.”

The doll was a collaboration between an anime and Ichiban Kuji. Ichiban Kuji prizes ranged from A to E, including card sleeves, small water bottles, bento boxes, shopping bags, and the special SP prize—a 40cm tall cotton doll of the male protagonist. Whether online or offline, each draw cost 58 yuan. If lucky, you could walk away with the doll; otherwise, you might end up with useless fashionable junk. Busy with work, Jiang Huan had no chance to join group draws or queue for lottery boxes for half an hour, spending money without luck. The secondhand market price inflated crazily, with scalpers bundling worthless merchandise. Within a year, the doll’s value skyrocketed twentyfold. She had complained to Single Demon once, and he actually found it for her. Jiang Huan opened the box—the doll wore a tiny suit and smiled mischievously. Its head was twice the size of hers, huggable and soft. Laughing, she hugged it tightly, playfully patting its cheeks: “Single Demon, you’re my god.”

“58 per draw, just pay 58.”

Jiang Huan transferred the amount via Alipay—market price, not a cent less, considering it repayment interest. Single Demon awkwardly chuckled after checking his phone: “Over a thousand is a lot; no need to be so precise.”

“The fewer debts, the easier to keep asking for favors. Without your help, I wouldn’t have bought my house—I need a reason to visit.”

Jiang Huan borrowed the last 60,000 yuan for her house down payment from Single Demon. After the down payment wiped her out, she lived frugally, eating mung bean cakes for a week, repaying the loan over three years. Over six or seven years of friendship, the loan added a layer of humility to their trust. Still, Single Demon couldn’t fully count as a friend. Men cyber-heartbroken and trolled online were, in a way, pitiable like her. Single Demon, akin to a spirit guide, had few friends. Many admired him, but he was perpetually lonely.

Cyber-heartbreak survivors only had Jiang Huan to understand.

The doll’s cheeks had subtle blush marks. Jiang Huan carefully dried her hands, expertly kneading it for a few minutes until it looked much cuter. Sitting on the floor, she lifted the doll, hugged it tightly, then fell backward—it healed her work wounds like a health potion. Single Demon opened other boxes to check newly arrived game cartridges while Jiang Huan still clutched the doll: “Now that I’ve got this doll, I have no regrets.”

“So happy now that you’ve bought something similar to what you wanted?”

“Yes!”

The doll had abstract bean-shaped eyes, but its pupil color, expression, and hairstyle resembled a character she once created. Jiang Huan could treat the doll as a substitute. She knew the principles of playing with plushies—never post it online; indulgence should remain private.

Single Demon patted her head, holding the controller: “I’ve debugged it. Want to play?”

“No, we have fancier things at the company. Bai Jingchuan turned VR games into holographic versions in rooms. Now, VR doesn’t feel appealing anymore.”

Single Demon looked momentarily dejected. Jiang Huan caught it but still put on the headset. He had adjusted the distance specifically for her. Once she gripped the controller, thumb on the button, and earphones in place, darkness enveloped her. Fumbling through the villa’s floors, even knocking over a kettle startled her. Hearing zombies roar, she hid in the basement, only to fall amidst corpses. Suddenly, a zombie flipped upside down, lunging at her. She quickly fired, but the gun had no bullets, and changing magazines failed. Before the charging zombie attacked, she tore off the headset: “Help! It bit me!”

“Scared already?”

“How could I not be? Sound effects, visuals, story—all top-notch, 5D immersion!”

“Isn’t this what you’ve always insisted on calling the ninth art?”

Feeling dizzy and nauseous, terrified out of her wits, Jiang Huan lay on the floor, waving her hands: “Seeing such images in your shop is truly scary. Especially on Renwu Road, where anything could happen—it feels real.”

Single Demon grabbed her phone: “But I found an interesting feature. Put the headset back on.”

“No, I’m about to throw up!”

Forced into the headset again, she struggled to resist, but Single Demon, knowing her password, unlocked her phone. The virtual image appeared before her—the male protagonist sitting on the grass, waving at her. She used to habitually tap the phone screen as if chatting. Now, standing before her, blowing in the wind, blinking and smiling genuinely—it was real. She understood now. Opening the game, pressing the controller buttons made the protagonist walk toward her as before: “Have you waited long? My hands are cold. Can you warm them for me?”

Was this what sharing the same space felt like?

After a long while, she removed the headset. The same scene returned to her phone—a mere projection. Jiang Huan murmured, “No wonder you’re the original artist, Single Demon. Helping me buy the doll and modifying the game yourself—you really seem to straddle both worlds. But... have you ever tried inserting your own lover?”

“I’ve moved on. I don’t fantasize. Instead of looking back, I prefer savoring others’ emotions and finding surprises in creative people.”

“Do you think people can meet fictional characters?”

“Not really. You’re not talking about this producer, are you?”

“Is it impossible...”

“Of course not.” Single Demon replied calmly and gently, “Accept when things are abolished and data deleted. Letting the past stay in the past is progress.”

“Games can’t really be called the ninth art. They can’t match world-famous paintings in beauty, nor surpass classic films in motion. They’re often seen as shallow distractions. Dialogue, movement, micro-expressions—you’ve already done the best possible immersion and participation, but that’s what male players look down on most.”

Jiang Huan gazed at the male protagonist standing on the screen: “Many are addicted to gacha and AVG games. Players resist new games fearing their old ones will be replaced; female players wanting to play newer games are looked down upon in open-world games... Standing in the same space as a holographic lover—there’s still a long, long way to go.”

But even in any single moment, she couldn’t suppress the excitement. The feeling of holographic romance was incredible.

Single Demon chuckled self-deprecatingly, his gaze lingering on Jiang Huan with instinctive admiration.

“I should go; dawn is approaching. What... should I do with him...”

Bai Jingchuan slept on the lazy sofa, resembling... a cat lying on its back. Jiang Huan rolled her eyes: “Believe it or not, he only had one cocktail. I suspect the bar owner drugged him.”

Single Demon chuckled helplessly: “The Snow Prince can stay here. Don’t they call you the Lonely Hearts Shelter?”

“How about sheltering me instead?” Jiang Huan thought, going back meant alarms from surveillance cameras, and the renovation team wouldn’t leave. Night after night, she was restless. Returning now was worse than staying.

“Sleep here with him?”

“On your bed! You don’t even live upstairs!” Jiang Huan turned to leave, “Forget it with him—I’m not some submissive person who’d fantasize about a man after physical contact.”

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“No.” Jiang Huan turned to say goodbye: “You haven’t slept yet—how can I take your room?” Without giving Single Demon a chance to offer, Jiang Huan opened the door and waved: “See you!”

Her memory of Single Demon was like a puzzle missing half its pieces, but it didn’t affect her sensing the hidden tenderness in the details. Nicknamed the God of Renwu Road, he was smart, humble, and good at business, yet indifferent to fame and fortune. Love letters were found in noodle shop suggestion boxes, exquisite gifts hidden in his shop—not just once. But Single Demon only asked Jiang Huan to paste posters in the storage room. She stood inside sticking them while he watched from outside, pointing out misalignments. Over time, Jiang Huan learned the perfect way to stick them—tape marks on all four corners, like muscle memory. This habit persisted until one rainy day when the tape stuck together in her fingers. Unable to fix it and unwilling to give up, worried about oily skin, she pressed herself entirely against the glass, puckering her lips to kiss the poster. The rain was heavy; her hands and chest pressed against the bottom of the poster as she kissed it—an odd sight, but no one saw in the storm. After smoothing all four corners, she stepped to the left and saw Single Demon standing under an umbrella, watching her. The light from the shop illuminated his pupils in the rain, as if he had been waiting for her to notice. Jiang Huan felt embarrassed, waving him over. As he stepped inside, she checked the poster for any marks, only to spot a faint lip print left on the glass behind the poster’s edge.

She had pressed herself against the poster—it was impossible for her breath to leave such a mark. But Single Demon didn’t mention it, so she pretended nothing had happened. Though he harbored no romantic feelings, Single Demon held a thread in his hand, and she felt like a kite he had set aloft, tethered even without him pulling the string. His gaze, which crossed the boundaries of friendship, left her at a loss for words.

And so, Jiang Huan stood outside waiting for a taxi. She didn’t look back even as the car arrived.

Single Demon gazed at the unconscious man, his brow furrowed but calm. “You collapsed rather early, scaring the girl—it’s a pity. I thought I’d see an old house catch fire. But I suppose she’s already smitten; otherwise, why would she run off so quickly? What do you think? For now, though, you still need rest. Burning out this fast—reckless, isn’t it?”

[Task 1-7 complete. Lv 20 upgraded to Lv 21. Rank upgraded to D. Earned 100,000 gold coins and 1 Prop Box. Note: Subquest exploration function unlocked. Awaiting trigger.]

PS: Here I am! So sleepy...