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The door to the inner office opened, and Bai Jingchuan stepped out. He gently draped her coat over her shoulders and sat beside her, quietly observing.
Every word on the computer screen was about him, yet the male lead of the story was… a new character. Silently, he read through the plot. A man temporarily referred to as “D” accompanied her through a cold, urban landscape, letting her forge ahead independently. Mowu City had been transformed into their newly designed metropolis—a rigidly stratified society where women were invisibly driven out of the workforce. The upper echelons strictly limited the professions available to women. As they ran, D let her find her own path. Even when she was injured, he didn’t coddle her, only asking, “Can you stand up? Can you keep going? If so, don’t stop.”
There was a line about women that caught Bai Jingchuan’s attention. He leaned closer and read it several times.
“Be wary of all forms of discipline and instruction. Once you concede even a single right, once you mildly accept it, you’ll be pushed back into a corner. Be radical if you can; if you’re timid, take one small step forward—but at least stay where you are. The sky here is low—if you don’t break through it, you won’t see the sun. Someone who truly loves you will support your back in time but will also watch with admiration as you grow. Light shines equally upon lovers.”
These words were spoken by “D.” The person who constructed this sprawling cyberpunk city in the dream, filled with heart-pounding tension and gripping storytelling, now slept soundly, lips slightly parted as if dreaming of something, swallowing lightly in her sleep. This girl truly resembled a Japanese drama heroine—clashing hard against life, holding steadfast to her convictions. A strand of hair slid to her lips, and he gently reached out to brush it away, his fingers lingering close to the strand without withdrawing.
Bai Jingchuan had never felt so exhilarated, nor had he ever felt such heartache—Jiang Huan had created a perfect, ideal figure, while he, as the real-life mentor, remained nameless and identity-less.
________________________________________
The next day, the meeting began amidst Jiang Huan’s tired yawns. When Bai Jingchuan entered the room, she suddenly thought of the male lead from her dream, and her face flushed red. Meanwhile, the male lead exuded an air of confidence, casting a flirtatious glance at him before turning to focus on the content. The two silent minutes felt like sitting on pins and needles. Jiang Huan gritted her teeth—if he didn’t like it, then Bai Jingchuan was just an insensitive, straightforward man. Lock him up with violent criminals!
“Well done, you’ve surpassed yourself.”
Was that affirmation? Did it need revisions? Was he impressed by the plot or giving approval?
After the meeting room emptied, she lingered until the very end, wanting to ask Bai Jingchuan for clarification. Thinking of the executor who appeared in her dream the previous night, she saw Bai Jingchuan still looking stern. “Um… do you really like the script I wrote?”
“You’re a narrative writer, not just a copywriter.”
“Uh… what?”
“You’ve always thought of yourself as insignificant, disposable. Without this breakthrough, you’d never realize the importance of storytelling. You’ve always had a rich imagination and decent writing skills. Why hide among the crowd and settle for mediocrity? Our card designs and technology might be hard to rival, but without a good story, players can skip straight to the gameplay mechanics. They’ll choose more interesting games, explore other worlds. Story and character design are the soul—nothing else can replace them. Now that you believe this, it proves your efforts haven’t been in vain.”
“So it was just to push me to improve?”
Bai Jingchuan didn’t smile or show any tenderness. “Keep going.”
With that, he ended the conversation and left. Bai Jingchuan seemed pleased but maintained perfect composure, leaving Jiang Huan feeling that whether in love or work, this man was always in control, effortlessly pulling strings. Her emotions were entirely at his mercy—anger, curiosity, admiration, attraction… Bai Jingchuan was even more captivating than she’d imagined. Fate had sealed her doors and windows shut, but someone had broken through the roof, letting her glimpse the moonlight. She’d never believed she could feel so cherished, never seen such light in reality—yet this one moment had shown her.
But just as she exited the room, Akira’s text arrived: “Did you hear? That girl who challenged you resigned and went to Beijing. Bai Jingchuan even helped her find a job. Do you know which company?”
It was the talented but unoriginal young copywriter. Jiang Huan’s envy brought tears to her eyes: “What?! If I’d known, I would’ve written worse just to get eliminated. After taxes, that salary is insane! Could Bai Jingchuan recommend me somewhere too?”
“No—he’s extremely satisfied with you now. You’re stuck.”
Though Jiang Huan had won, hearing about the money still stung. Why did those who didn’t value originality get better opportunities? Was she destined to toil endlessly?
“Your opinion of Bai Jingchuan has changed, hasn’t it? Talented, meticulous, committed to originality—now he’s your idol for Romance Tide , huh?”
“What good is being an idol? I want money.”
Jiang Huan pouted bitterly. It wasn’t fair. How could the world be so unfair? Thinking of the knight who protected her in her dream, memories jumbled and tangled, caught between Bai Jingchuan and Sandimon, unable to earn a raise—it felt like Sisyphus pushing a boulder uphill, advancing 50 meters only to slide back 100. Was her resilience only meant to make her suffer?
She deliberately clocked out early, refusing overtime, ate a burger downtown, browsed pop-up shops, and returned empty-handed as night fell. At a convenience store, she bought lemon tea and vodka, pouring the vodka into the tea and taking large gulps. The sweetness of the lemon tea balanced the sharpness of the vodka, and she drained it quickly before buying another round and finishing that too.
「Li Ruoyi’s Favorability -100.」
「Li Ruoyi’s Favorability +100.」
「Li Ruoyi’s Favorability -100.」
「Li Ruoyi’s Favorability +100.」
Unable to sit still amid the fluctuating favorability, Bai Jingchuan activated the mind-reading system to find Jiang Huan. She was squatting by the roadside, hiccupping from alcohol, and waved him over. Mimicking a gun with her hand, she made jerky motions, pretending to fire at him in rapid succession.
Clearly, she was dissatisfied with him.
Jiang Huan tilted her head up defiantly: “Didn’t I write well this time?”
“Yes, very well.”
“Then why did you send someone else to a better job and leave me here to suffer?”
“You and I are bound together—I want to escape you too.” Bai Jingchuan glanced at the bottles of alcohol and lemon tea beside her. What a fool, mixing sugary drinks with liquor. Poor tolerance, worse behavior, completely disregarding safety. Luckily, this wasn’t Mowu City. She stumbled and fell into his arms. Bai Jingchuan sighed and scooped her up in a princess carry. “Since we’re bound, you can rely on me. Whatever I learn, I’ll teach you, and as long as I’m here, your project won’t be disbanded.”
“Wow, Bai Jingchuan, these words mean a lot to a gamer…” Jiang Huan extended her thumb and pressed it onto his forehead. Despite his attempts to retreat, he couldn’t dodge. Was she this rude after drinking? And despite the princess carry, she showed no reaction, no fluttering heartbeat. Then what was that earlier spike in favorability about…?
“Since you promised to be my support, I’ll tell you something.”
“Go ahead.”
“My memory is terrible. Actually, I’ve had many adventures in my dreams, but I forget them when I wake up. This time too—it’s based on a prototype… from my dream. In the dream…”
“What happened in the dream?” Bai Jingchuan grew anxious. She remembered everything!
“I don’t know how to explain it. If possible, I want to see you shoot…”
With that, she lost consciousness in his arms. Bai Jingchuan gently poked her cheek, nuzzling her forehead with his chin. “Hey, can you wait a bit before falling asleep? What did you see in the dream? Who’s the prototype? Can you tell me? What do you mean by ‘shoot’? It’s so vague…”
Li Bode had never been a gentle figure, but the girl cradled in his arms snuggled closer, her hand resting over his heart. Thump-thump, thump-thump. His control over this body was poor, and his heartbeat raced erratically like a game of squash.
What did she mean by shooting?
Though he couldn’t fully decipher her thoughts, at least her string of questions hadn’t decreased her favorability. He looked up at the precariously swaying lightbox above, using his air manipulation to stabilize it and repairing it with a restoration item. Because of his presence, the lightbox had started to fall toward Jiang Huan; but he knew that if her emotions wavered, even slightly, danger would quickly descend.
If he were an electronic lifeform summoned from another world, Jiang Huan’s emotions could summon peril. Right now, he felt like a knight protecting her. Though the relationship was simple, it wasn’t one he rejected.
He studied her face—dark circles under her eyes, sensitive skin, cheeks slightly red and irritated. Her fingertips had hangnails, and she wore a couple of band-aids, likely from preparing materials for a convention a month away. She and Akira had personally supervised the process. She worked tirelessly, sparing no effort for Romance Continent , guarding herself against everything in life, fighting even when running on empty.
If I can protect you, then rest for now. It’s okay to slow down. Protecting you isn’t difficult for an Executor from another dimension, even though I’ve fallen from grace and now possess only 30% of my former abilities.
Thinking this, Bai Jingchuan chuckled secretly. It seemed he needed to level up.
「You may use an item to sober Jiang Huan up. Use it?」
Clearing his throat, Bai Jingchuan clenched his teeth. She had already fallen asleep, and so quickly too?
「Lv 30 Extra Bonus: You have one self-selected date reward. Redeem it?」
“Yes.”
At the entrance of the live-action CS shop, the dice sighed deeply.
“You finally have a self-selected date scenario. Why did you choose live-action shooting? Haven’t you had enough mission simulations?”
“She said she wanted to see me shoot.”
“Do you really trust her when she’s drunk?”
As a participant of the Realm of Gods, constrained by rules like a baby in a walker, every step kicking against boundaries—do I have a choice?” Bai Jingchuan watched Jiang Huan in the distance, clad in camouflage and waiting in line for her down jacket. “She really loves combat.”
A masterpiece of Zhihui Land, the two-story container setup featured climbable structures and a shooting system. Players engaged in survival mode, solving puzzles to unlock rooms before entering a battle royale phase. In the second half, aside from eliminating each other, players also had to evade NPC hunters. The last surviving player granted victory for their entire team. Private missions triggered during gameplay allowed players to betray others and seize dominance.
Battle royale—the most thrilling and brutal game genre, one Jiang Huan detested as a socially anxious introvert. But once thrown into the game, even the weakest player harbored the instinct to survive until the very end. Wearing her vest and carrying her gun, she listened attentively to the instructions, determined to win—especially against Bai Jingchuan. The ominous music startled many colleagues—half the office girls refused to wear cold-weather gear, insisting on maintaining their beauty throughout the mission.
Sailor Moon warriors—half sailor, half warrior. Jiang Huan scoffed at being the former.
Bai Jingchuan hadn’t changed into camouflage. His tailored suit, waistcoat, and white shirt accentuated his physique. His broad shoulders, narrow waist, and muscular arms and legs were on full display. His stance with the gun was impeccable, seamlessly blending into the game as if he were part of it.
The interns couldn’t help but stare at him with starry eyes.
He was dazzling, as if he existed in an entirely different dimension.
But there was a peculiar vigilance in his gaze. He earnestly reminded everyone, “Winning or losing doesn’t matter, but prioritize your safety. If you’re in danger, remember to call for help. Make it out alive.”
Everyone chuckled—this wasn’t a life-or-death situation, so why was this producer so immersed in the role?
________________________________________
At the start, Jiang Huan chose to head alone into the secret cave. Amid the bustling crowd of over fifty people entering the arena, she opted for the darkest environment to search for her mission. The NPC in the secret cave was a shaman with a terrible attitude and poor communication skills. He instructed her to collect bird eggs from the roof and find a key in the cellar. She slung her gun over her shoulder and climbed onto the roof, but no bird eggs were in sight. A sudden thunder sound effect startled her, causing her to crouch on the roof. She remembered Bai Jingchuan saving her in her dream and shook her head fiercely. The female ghost that suddenly popped out from the ceiling saw Jiang Huan’s startled reaction and forgot to scare her.
Bai Jingchuan observed all of this from afar. This woman’s mental state was truly perplexing. He followed behind her, and when she was grabbed by the ghost around the corner, Jiang Huan flinched. Her gun butt accidentally struck Bai Jingchuan’s chin. He didn’t dodge, and a red mark appeared prominently on his face. She laughed as she apologized, “Sorry, I didn’t know you were behind me…”
“You laugh without a conscience. You injured me right after we started. How do we settle this?”
“…”
“It really hurts.”
“Why are you acting so spoiled…?”
“If you feel sorry, then help me with this.” Bai Jingchuan lowered his head slightly. Attached to his vest was a “time bomb,” though it was just a game prop, blinking realistically. Jiang Huan reached out, puzzled. “What kind of mission did you get yourself into?”
“I fell straight into a trap and got this strapped on. I need someone to help me find an NPC to defuse it. If a kind-hearted person helps me, I’ll earn extra bullets in the second half.”
“So I’m the kind-hearted person you’ve encountered?”
“Depends on whether you’re willing.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“Anything you want.”
Jiang Huan burst out laughing but couldn’t shake the feeling that Bai Jingchuan had been waiting for her to rescue him. Remembering how much he used to dislike her, she briefly considered leaving him to fend for himself. After some internal debate, she said, “Fine, but only if you help me find the bird eggs. I need them for the shaman. Once I have them, I’ll help you disarm it.”
“Negotiating terms?”
“Not interested?”
Bai Jingchuan’s amused expression carried a hint of indulgence. Jiang Huan understood why the interns were so easily charmed—he had a mole at the corner of his mouth that made his smile… captivating. He said, “If we cooperate, I can clear some obstacles for you. After defusing this bomb, I’ll get triple the ammo.”
“Don’t be too confident. What if someone shoots you first? You won’t even have time to use the bullets.”
“So this is how you see me?”
Bai Jingchuan obediently followed behind her, the countdown timer strapped to his chest looking somewhat comical. When they climbed into the basement together, Bai Jingchuan jumped down first and politely extended a hand to help her. His touch was light yet considerate, maintaining clear boundaries while still making her feel cared for, which… made her stance waver.
A shadow seemed to flash across the ceiling. Bai Jingchuan shielded Jiang Huan, retreating backward for a full minute without moving. Initially tense, he scanned the surroundings but saw no one. His colleagues wouldn’t venture into such a secluded area. Why did Bai Jingchuan seem to carry the weight of surviving an apocalyptic escape?
“Teacher Bai… um…”
Hidden in the narrow gap where even the surveillance cameras couldn’t see, Jiang Huan felt suffocated by the dense aura of her producer. Her heart nearly leapt out of her throat. Bai Jingchuan chuckled as he stepped back. “Sorry, I got too into character.”
Was it really unintentional?
This was getting out of hand. Having already familiarized herself with the terrain, Jiang Huan noticed that the wine cellar in the basement was spotless, free of dust. The ropes tying the twenty wine jars were all loose. She examined each one carefully, certain this was where the bird eggs were hidden. Bai Jingchuan quietly searched alongside her, splitting off momentarily. Though Jiang Huan remained vigilant against potential enemies, thinking of her dream, she felt incredibly safe with Bai Jingchuan. She turned to sneak a glance at him, only to freeze—there he was, kneeling, inserting his gun into his leg holster, his posture perfectly tactical as he retreated backward, ready for any sudden developments. His professionalism was unmatched, exuding the readiness of a soldier in a video game. Most notably, his physique was exaggerated—broad shoulders tapering to a narrow waist, forming a perfect inverted T-shape, with particularly… pronounced curves in his lower body.
This was so unfair…
Bai Jingchuan turned his head. “What you’re looking for is here… What are you staring at?”
“…Nothing, nothing. You’re carrying too much stuff, like an Evangelion Unit-01.”
“So you want to control me, Shinji Ikari?”
“…” Jiang Huan, now blushing furiously, couldn’t take it anymore. “Find—the—key!”
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