Chapter 5: No Matter Who You Are, I Must Keep You

[Current affection score: -800. Please restore affection to zero within the allotted time. Falling to -1000 will immediately disqualify you from the real-world experience.]

He had indeed become intrigued by this situation. He wanted to see if his first step toward accomplishing something great in the real world could involve helping the employees save their project—and safeguard Jiang Huan’s stubborn dream.

It wasn’t entirely intentional, but it sparked his curiosity.

Bai Jingchuan sat in the office, put on his headphones, and opened a test version of Love Continent . He entered the starting city—Jade City. Unlike the dazzling chaos of Magu City, this virtual map was shaped like a gemstone, surrounded by the ocean on its eastern side, inherently romantic. The city was modeled after Shanghai, with many iconic landmarks replicated in Jade City. Shops lined the streets, offering everything imaginable. The background music was soothing and upbeat, and the characters were lifelike. He paused to buy a coffee, and the NPC dialogue was automatically generated—he knew this because someone in the tech department was proficient with ACE (Avatar Cloud Engine), which allowed NPCs to generate conversations dynamically and even assign impromptu tasks to users, enabling them to earn money and purchase items to sustain life in the virtual city. The game also had VR functionality, but after an hour of testing, he found it less user-friendly than the mobile version. Especially outside Jade City, the VR couldn’t provide haptic feedback, making it easy to get injured indoors while wearing the headset.

A prompt appeared: “Would you like to continue experiencing the main storyline from last time?”

What quest? He selected “Confirm.” A handsome boy sat down, cheerful and straightforward, asking, “Have you been waiting long?”

Bai Jingchuan furrowed his brow, uncomfortable with such familiarity. What could a man achieve by focusing on romance?

The boy’s name was Duanmu Xuan, wearing a gray hoodie with red patterns, exuding youthful energy as he sat across from him. He fidgeted often, and when their hands accidentally touched, he didn’t shy away but instead teased, “I’m afraid of the heat. If your hands are cold, you can give them to me. Holding them tight will warm them up.”

Patiently, Bai Jingchuan clicked “Refuse.” The other person looked a bit disappointed but quickly recovered, saying, “Looks like you don’t need it today. But I remember you telling me you were cold before. Don’t say being cold is a metaphor for poverty—you have inspiration and courage, and that already makes you my treasure.”

It seemed the system automatically recorded the “girlfriend’s” feelings. But this line made Bai Jingchuan uncomfortable—for no particular reason, it just irritated him. It felt too sycophantic, too saccharine. How could a man speak like that?

The animation of driving passed in a flash, and the first-person perspective shifted to the two standing side by side in the sea breeze. Duanmu Xuan leaned close to him, saying, “The sea breeze isn’t cold today, so please don’t cry anymore, okay? If you cry while you’re with me, I’ll feel like a failure. I recently discovered that Sprite mixed with juice tastes great. If you like it, I’ll make you some…”

It seemed the employee who tested this before was feeling emotional. Though the model wasn’t fully trained yet, the companionship was meticulously crafted. In just twenty minutes, Bai Jingchuan learned that Duanmu Xuan was about twenty-two years old, cheerful and straightforward, fond of mixing drinks, and attentive to his lover’s tears. Every meeting aimed to lift her spirits and help her recover from sadness.

Was it because they couldn’t have a virtual lover and cried out of heartbreak, or because they couldn’t freely cry in reality and secretly poured out their emotions while testing the game?

Bai Jingchuan couldn’t yet understand this kind of sorrow—after all, he was also a created character, never having sensed others’ emotions. Aside from judgment, he hadn’t tried to reach out to anyone.

________________________________________

On the first day of the shareholders’ meeting, the conference room was packed. When Bai Jingchuan walked in, he felt like he was surrounded by a pack of wolves. Jiang Huan pretended to go to the vending machine on the fifteenth floor for a drink, peeking through the glass doors at the tense atmosphere inside. Bai Jingchuan was focused, but when he glanced up, their eyes met through the glass for three seconds. Jiang Huan quickly hid behind the vending machine, her heart pounding uncontrollably—Bai Jingchuan, consider this my way of cheering you on. Whether the crystal ball spins depends on you.

[Jiang Huan’s affection level towards you: +100.]

Whenever she saw the heated arguments inside, with the boss pacing in front of the data and Bai Jingchuan falling silent, it seemed like a deadlock from the outside. Jiang Huan gulped down a mouthful of cola: “Why are they so harsh? Is this how you treat Bai Jingchuan? This feels terrifying—it’s giving me goosebumps…”

Constantly circling around wasn’t ideal, so after finishing a can, she went upstairs. Three or four hours later, she came back down “for more cola.” Bai Jingchuan exited the meeting, and the discussion moved on to other topics. He looked preoccupied, as if thinking about how to salvage the situation.

Jiang Huan sighed deeply and ended up staying awake late into the night—Bai Jingchuan was their last hope. Recruitment messages popped up in the group chat, and as Jiang Huan watched Akira exchange headhunter contacts with others, she added, “You should have more faith in Teacher Bai.”

[Jiang Huan’s affection level towards you: +100.]

The next day, another big meeting took place, and it was Akira’s turn to go upstairs “for cola.” Not long after, she rushed back down: “When Bai Jingchuan went in, he seemed much more confident today! That moment when everyone bowed their heads—I don’t know what he said. He even did a VR comparison. I saw it on the projector screen, though I couldn’t make out the details. All the cola I drank made me burp nonstop. Someone else should take over as the scout.”

Jiang Huan volunteered, “I can go,” but was stopped by Xiao Qiao from the planning team: “Forget it, you’re too noticeable—the woman who argues with the producer over labor laws. Let me go.”

Not long after, the new spy Xiao Qiao sent back a sixty-second WeChat voice message. Though fuzzy, Bai Jingchuan’s speech could be heard clearly.

“To create products that appeal to the female market, we need an all-female content creation team. As a male producer, I should probably be excluded. I’m still new and don’t understand everything, so I can only provide directional guidance. The entire team—from writing to art design—is female. Their experiences, deeper thoughts, and expectations for lovers are all infused into this creation. Most of them are ‘longtime otaku’ or literary youths with extensive exposure to films and books, so the content will be incredibly nuanced. From my perspective, women’s pure寄托 in a virtual lover can last for years, and every product has the potential to be profitable. If we focus on deeper, updated interactive companionship, there’s immense potential. As a man, I may not fully understand, but I’m confident in making this work by protecting women’s emotional secrets.”

“According to your theory, shouldn’t the producer be replaced with a woman?” one director joked. For the directors, joking was also a way to assert authority.

Bai Jingchuan politely replied, “We still need a man for situations like this—dirty occasions where we must fight to keep the project alive and secure the budget. That’s where someone like me comes in.”

After the voice message ended, despite the noisy background, Bai Jingchuan’s points were clear, and his defense of women stirred Jiang Huan’s heart, making her pulse race with excitement. Akira clapped after listening: “He’s so bold! Starting today, I’m turning from neutral to a fan of Bai Jingchuan. I thought he just looked capable, but he’s perfect… Did you hear how he shut down the other men? I wanted to rush in and applaud him.”

“Hmm…”

“If he was just a little perfect before, now he’s a full 100. Like one of our created male leads… Maybe we’ve seen so many abnormal men that encountering someone normal feels abnormal…”

[Jiang Huan’s affection level towards you: +200.]

Xiao Qiao hurried back to the fourteenth floor, crouching beside Jiang Huan and Akira, panting: “I almost got caught! I snuck right up to the door—it was intense. Teacher Bai is truly amazing, perfectly empathizing with women. I almost thought he was one of us.”

“Tell us more.”

“He’s a debate genius. When the boss criticized the main storyline, he countered that the writing team wasn’t invested enough and suggested renaming them ‘screenwriters.’ When the boss said the project had no future, he argued that the goals were too ambitious—how could we aim for VR when we haven’t even perfected the mobile experience? Trying to do both would only lead to failure…”

Thinking about the moment Bai Jingchuan saved her on the street, Jiang Huan’s ears grew quiet. The sound of his breathing and the firmness of his embrace were vivid in her mind, the heartbeat reminding her: Hold on, I’m here.

She shook her head fiercely—just because a man seems perfect doesn’t mean he’s from another dimension. Don’t overthink it.

“What are you shaking your head for, Jiang Huan? You can’t argue with Teacher Bai over labor laws anymore. Now he’s my top producer, the perfect leader. I’m not thinking about quitting—I’ll work overtime for him…”

[Jiang Huan’s affection level towards you: +100.]

“But there’s a problem,” Xiao Qiao frowned. “At the end of the meeting, Bai Jingchuan said he might not be suited for this position. For an otome game, a qualified female producer would be the best fit, so he might still leave. But who else is suitable? If there were someone, they’d already be hired…”

Jiang Huan bit her lip.

[Detected emotional fluctuations. Jiang Huan’s affection level towards you: +300.]

[Main Quest 1-3 complete. Current affection score: 0. Successfully restored affection to zero. Earned 10,000 gold coins and obtained items: “Star’s Other Shore” and “Golden Fantasy.”]

[Standby space and training grounds unlocked. Until you acquire a residence, you can maintain daily life in the standby space. The training grounds can be used to improve muscle strength levels. Exercise reasonably and maintain your physique.]

[Dating module unlocked. Await dating opportunities.]

As dusk fell, it was rare for everyone to leave early on a weekend. Things were likely to get busy soon. Bai Jingchuan packed up his things in the office, found a cardboard box, closed the door, and stepped into the elevator with the box. Jiang Huan watched him enter the elevator, thinking this was just the producer’s excuse for a brief departure. Their encounters had been fleeting, leaving no opportunity for meaningful conversation or convincing him of her abilities. It was normal for an excellent producer to leave the team.

And just like that, the story would end. Bai Jingchuan had briefly revived the project, but without finding a new producer for the otome game, it might return to square one.

She didn’t know what to do. Work was hard. Several lights at her workstation were turned off, leaving half of the fourteenth floor unusually dim.

Suddenly, the elevator “dinged” again, and Bai Jingchuan walked back in empty-handed. Jiang Huan’s heart leapt—a flicker of hope reignited. He had returned, giving her another chance to persuade him…

No matter who you are, I must keep you.

My crystal ball has just started spinning; the lights have only been on for a few seconds. I haven’t had time to see the carousel inside. I know I may never get to ride it, because at no stage of my life have I been a happy girl.

At least let me be illuminated once. I don’t need to ride the carousel in a dream or receive flowers and applause. Just let the carousel stand, let the dream begin, and let the characters I created come alive, even if just once.

So you can’t leave. The key to starting the dream is in your hands. Think of me as shameless, a villain, a subordinate who schemes endlessly, a liar without principles…

Jiang Huan pushed Bai Jingchuan against the wall, looking up at his nostrils. No, I need to meet his gaze equally. She must convey earnestness and sincerity, letting him see her anxious determination.

“Please, help me one more time.”

“You…”

“Love Continent can’t do without you. Until a female producer arrives, can you stay?”

Trapped between the walls, Bai Jingchuan frowned, confused and serious. Jiang Huan worried he’d refuse, but she didn’t want any physical contact that might be misunderstood. This was her only chance to convey her urgency.

She steadied herself against the walls. Good, the friction was strong, and her new shoes weren’t dirty. Her grip was solid.

With slight effort, she climbed a couple of steps along the wall, keeping her eyes locked on Bai Jingchuan’s. Biting her lip, she climbed a little higher. To an outsider, this would look bizarre—something even TV dramas wouldn’t depict. Wild, forceful, unbecoming of a girl’s modesty.

She secured her footing, gripping tightly, ensuring she wouldn’t slip anytime soon. Summoning her courage, she leaned closer. She had sprayed a sample perfume earlier—she definitely didn’t smell unpleasant now. At eye level, Bai Jingchuan was no longer towering above her but at a reasonable angle for negotiation.

“I must keep you. Love Continent can’t survive without a good producer. It’s a great project, and I’ll work hard. If you think I’m terrible, please give me time to catch up to your level.”

I genuinely love this job because I’ve experienced real happiness through the virtual lovers I created. That’s what’s kept me going until now.

My strength is small and often unrecognized. So please, let the crystal ball spin. Girls may seem like they don’t need an amusement park, but once they have one, they realize they can shed their masks and give more of their true selves.

You said you can’t see most people’s hearts because so many haven’t been happy in a long time.

This is a crystal ball that hasn’t been acknowledged yet. Its facilities aren’t built, the carousel isn’t painted, but riding it will surely reveal a new world, sights never seen before.

We, the builders, still lack ability. We need a conductor, a magician, a decisive leader. The key to lighting the crystal ball is now in your hands.

And you? How will you respond?

Her legs trembled, making her look pitiful, like someone trembling out of desperation. Bai Jingchuan initially crossed his arms, curious about what she might do next. As he listened, his shoulders gradually relaxed, though his expression remained unchanged.

Her body gave out, and halfway down, two hands gently caught her. Bai Jingchuan lowered her steadily to the ground. Her muscles ached, and her heart raced. Finally, he spoke: “You really don’t follow conventional tactics.”

“…Sincerity is my tactic.”

“In your eyes, am I planning to leave?”

“Aren’t you?”

Bai Jingchuan neither confirmed nor denied: “Do all of you trust me so much?”

We have no choice but to trust you because your abilities are undeniable. In Lori, or even the entire industry, we aren’t seen as candidates who can handle things independently.

“Alright, I understand.” Bai Jingchuan reached out and lightly touched Jiang Huan’s head, more like brushing the air. “I’ll think about it.”

Soft and fluffy, like a cloud descending on her head.

Was this an agreement? Why did he handle her embarrassing wall-climbing act so calmly? With lingering doubts, Jiang Huan ran toward Renwu Road, her pace quickening until she broke into a sprint. Fifteen minutes away, Renwu Road was where she could find reinforcements—a temporary place of solace.

Renwu Road’s night had just begun. Across the street, the bar “For All Lovers” lit up its kissing sign, signaling the imminent closing of Shandimon’s shop. Jiang Huan pushed the door open to find Shandimon wearing sunglasses and holding long chopsticks, the last table of customers just leaving. After they left, Jiang Huan flipped the “Closed” sign, and Shandimon, still wearing his sunglasses, smiled warmly at her: “Your exclusive time starts now. What would you like to eat?”