Chapter 55: “Miss, Do You Have a Little Bit of Feeling for the Liar Now?”

After kissing her soft lips for a long time with satisfaction, he gradually felt the heat trapped inside his suit. Cherishing her yet fearing to lose her, Bai Jingchuan felt restless. For him, it was like reliving the process of moving from mutual suspicion to confirming their relationship. The noise outside the enclosed space of his suit roared, but Jiang Huan was stiff and impulsive, driven by a childlike urge to snatch what she loved into her arms. After a kiss, she faltered, easily relinquishing control to him. He felt as if he were standing on a ship’s deck, being pecked by seagulls—not painful, but instead bringing a calmness like a gentle breeze brushing his cheeks. Gently, he tucked Jiang Huan’s stray strands of hair behind her ear; the soft strands slid through his fingertips so quickly that he feared the moment would end abruptly. Foreheads pressed together, their breaths intertwined, and his thumb caressed her cheek, brushing against a teardrop that rolled down.

The next kiss would be even more lingering.

“Jiang Huan’s affection for you +2000.”

A loud crash echoed as his phone fell to the ground, and the suit slipped off. The lights came on just in time for the atmosphere-killing delivery call: “Food delivery!”

How many times had they been interrupted by food delivery? Wasn’t food delivery the ultimate mood killer in urban life?

The video popped up at the worst possible time.

“Main Quest 3-4: Get Jiang Huan to mention you publicly and confess. Reward: Regular items and dating fragments. Time limit: 40 hours.”

Had the game advanced to the point where Wan Shen Zhi Jing (Realm of Myriad Gods) could now offer special island dates?

Stunned for a few seconds, Bai Jingchuan slowly picked up his suit, realizing the dice he often heard near his ear were missing—usually, this was when they would jump out to explain the quest. Had he been punished for something related to the副本 (sub-quest)?

“What’s wrong with you?” Jiang Huan appeared at the door, noticing his daze, which made her tense as well.

“Nothing. Let’s go, I’ll take you home.”

“No.” Jiang Huan shoved the bag into Bai Jingchuan’s arms: “Take the fever patch and go home. I’m not taking care of you.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Overtime.”

This made Bai Jingchuan laugh: “The internal test is tomorrow, you’ll have plenty of time to work overtime.”

“Carl called me to his project team. Earlier, I thought, if you really disappeared, I’d have to become his subordinate.”

Carl was another department in the entire 2028 virtual plan, similar to The Sims , where one could create and nurture desired virtual characters without a strong emotional storyline or plot, excelling in allowing players to create their own OCs, which indeed suited Jiang Huan’s originality. Bai Jingchuan probed her: “So, do you want to go?”

“Why go? His project group is full of smoke and mirrors, and Carl has too much ‘manliness.’ There are rumors that even during two-person meetings, someone secretly records them. That kind of atmosphere is far worse than ours.”

“Oh, so you’re just unwilling to leave me, huh?”

After the battle with 076831, Bai Jingchuan realized he wasn’t exactly straightforward or pure-hearted. Feeling mischievous, he decided to tease her.

Seeing Jiang Huan blush, she gritted her teeth and turned away: “Big liar.”

“So, Miss, do you have a little bit of feeling for the liar now?”

“Jiang Huan’s affection for you +200.”

“No, I like Li Junzhu.”

Familiar words but insincere. She was back, at least back by his side.

Following behind Jiang Huan as they left, Bai Jingchuan felt like a malfunctioning robot, steaming hot, relying solely on the person he liked to keep him alive. Everything had to remain unsaid; all ambiguity relied on testing. Indirectly, he asked:

“So, among the numerous male leads in the abandoned projects, did you choose Li Junzhu?”

“Who chose him?”

Bai Jingchuan smiled with narrowed eyes: “You didn’t choose him? So earlier… you liked me, and it had nothing to do with Li Junzhu?”

With her hands behind her back holding her bag, Jiang Huan walked out as soon as the elevator opened: “When I first wrote about him, I didn’t feel particularly fond of him. It was just that his personality was charming. After the project was abandoned, many things kept overlapping in my life, as if fate wanted us to meet.”

“So you didn’t fall in love with Li Junzhu at first sight like in the main storyline?”

“Don’t dream too much. Work is work; you can’t immerse yourself in fantasies. It was only after he truly evolved into an enchanting antagonist beyond our creation that I gradually started liking him.”

“And now?”

“Jiang Huan’s affection for you +1000.”

Jiang Huan glanced back at Bai Jingchuan, whose face was full of anticipation, then deliberately turned away, leaving him with only her retreating figure. Bai Jingchuan quickened his pace, his speech subtly speeding up, and his words became more frequent: “You always act so fond of him, even putting self-printed merchandise at home. Turns out it’s all just wishful thinking. I feel sorry for Li Junzhu. I’ll comfort him for you—he won’t blame you for misjudging…”

Standing under the streetlight, Jiang Huan turned around, rushed a few steps forward, stood on tiptoe, and yanked Bai Jingchuan’s tie down forcefully. Startled for a moment, Bai Jingchuan stopped just before their lips touched, a mere centimeter apart, with the air between them carrying a hint of urgency. Jiang Huan didn’t let go; her eyes fixed on the tip of his nose, she moved closer, touching nose to nose like a curious kitten testing the air, her eyes reflecting his astonished face. When she finally let go and stepped back, her black, pearl-like pupils were filled with stubbornness, yet they held only him.

“Liking him is my instinct; he cannot be replaced. You have no right to ‘sow discord,’ understand?”

With that, she walked ahead, her ears red. If Bai Jingchuan had a tail, it would’ve wagged triumphantly toward the sky.

________________________________________

The internal test for Love Continent was open for application, and users flooded in as expected. The production team, busy preparing more content, took a break to check feedback on the three male leads and maps. Love Continent stormed the trending topics, receiving significant attention. After a week, actual experience feedback would come in, and Jiang Huan excitedly scrolled through the comments.

“Duanmu Xuan is so handsome! Red outfit, black hair, high attack, low defense—I’m officially diving in today!”

“Yan Zhengyi is the epitome of a mature male lead, and his face is genuinely attractive. I’m already lying comfortably with him in solo mode. Love it! I’ll write fanfiction for him once the official version launches. So gentle—he slid down on a rope to save me when I thought there was no way out!”

“The internal test is only ten days? Does that mean I’ll be heartbroken after ten days?”

As the first open-world companion game, the discussions remained heated. Bai Jingchuan was still in the office monitoring reviews when the video popped up, reminding him that he was a player in this world, not the real game developer—but he was so professional that he couldn’t help but feel a bit proud.

“Reminder: 20 hours remaining until the end of Task 3-4.”

“The internal test questionnaires have started coming in.”

His subordinate knocked on the door. Glasses fell to the ground, but he calmly picked them up, his mind full of images of Jiang Huan on the island, unable to shake them off.

The office remained bustling. Business messages caught Bai Jingchuan’s eye; in the email, he saw a preview of xxx live streams, including gameplay demos, animated interactions with the male leads, and the production team’s philosophy. Several girls attended the meeting with Bai Jingchuan. Upon hearing about appearing on the live stream, Jiang Huan shook her head vigorously: “No need for the production team to chat. Players don’t need to see us. If the team has opinions, they should express them through the male leads’ mouths. Players don’t want to see the developers.”

“But I hope some of the creators’ original intentions can be seen,” Bai Jingchuan said earnestly. “The male leads will prove their charm on their own, but you’ve worked tirelessly to make them shine, staying up late to encourage girls to dream. Your original intentions and experiences are worth sharing with more people.”

“Jiang Huan’s affection for you +100.”

Though hesitant, Jiang Huan agreed. She had creative ambition and wanted others to see the power of female imagination and willpower. Beauty that defied definition deserved praise. If she didn’t seize this opportunity, only the game characters would have a voice.

Because she leaned close, the familiar scent returned. It was Li Junzhu’s habit to use the same brand of shower gel and shampoo as her, both insisting on sharing the same fragrance, pathetically mingling their scents. Expensive yet understated clothes, seemingly effortless yet full of adult idol details. His tousled short hair and tender gaze struck her, as if he existed solely for her. Her chest tingled. Jiang Huan wondered, when kissing him, was it this shirt that concealed them?

“Jiang Huan’s affection for you +200.”

Fantasy and reality overlapped, assumptions proven unconditionally multiple times. Yet she grew timid, struggling to express her feelings.

“What do you want me to say?” she asked in a hoarse whisper, knowing that another word would make her want to kiss him again.

“Say whatever you want to express. Regretting this moment later will linger strongly. Can you bear it?”

He was so rational!

“Jiang Huan’s affection for you +200.”

Before the live stream, Jiang Huan remembered something and messaged Wen Li on WeChat: “Love Continent is in its internal test. Not sure if you’ve heard about it—it requires reservations and a lottery, which might be inconvenient, but you can check the reviews. I’ll remind you again when the official version launches.”

Bai Jingchuan eagerly anticipated the perfect success of Task 3-4, especially imagining Jiang Huan wearing a mermaid-colored dress stepping onto the stage to mention Li Junzhu’s name publicly, expressing her love and companionship for him. Completing this task would drop materials and items that could surprise her later.

Three minutes remained until the live stream began, and reminders echoed throughout the hall. A hand emerged giving an “OK” sign. Bai Jingchuan’s anticipation overflowed—was she hosting in an evening gown?

A cardboard box walked out. Startled, Bai Jingchuan squinted and saw her wearing loose sweatshirts and jeans, looking even more inconspicuous than usual, with a Halloween pumpkin-style nose and eyes cutout on her head.

She really was…

Jiang Huan, wearing the cardboard box, bumped her head on the doorframe at the start but didn’t care, waving generously at everyone. She sat beside the clean green screen, waiting for her turn to “host” the live stream with Yan Zhengyi. The live stream outline was ready, reviewed by Bai Jingchuan, but he knew Jiang Huan would exceed expectations—that was what he was waiting for. She didn’t get many opportunities to speak, but when she did, Bai Jingchuan favored the more outstanding women in the company.

Especially her.

The initial meet-and-greet with the QQ characters and male leads ended quickly. Jiang Huan moved to the green screen, her voice processed over the radio waves—she tried her best to hide herself.

“What does it mean for every girl to find her lover?” Yan Zhengyi asked. The “pumpkin cardboard box” tilted its head, listening intently as if Yan Zhengyi were right beside her, answering earnestly:

“The traits of the male leads always attract players. Even if you casually enter the game, you might see a favorite appearance in character A, feel his love for you in character B, or find emotional tension in character C that you’ve never encountered in real life… Emotional encounters are unexpected, yet feel destined. This attachment transcends dimensions, and over time, it settles hearts and anchors emotions in a new world.”

“But the male leads are top-tier in strength and looks, while players are ordinary. Won’t that create difficulty in immersion and a sense of disparity?”

“Players were initially set as warriors defending the world, carrying many mysteries, so they naturally form bonds with the male leads. Building houses and fighting in the open world, along with the main quests, aren’t hard and are fun, letting players feel ‘I am excellent and will become stronger.’ Therefore, it’s natural for the male leads to love you because you’re worthy.”

Despite the stifling cardboard box, Jiang Huan raised her voice to express her views.

“So players can trust this world and connect with virtual characters, right?”

Watching from afar, Bai Jingchuan expected her to mention Li Junzhu next, praising how Forbidden Love Zone inspired her. It was indeed a motivational story born from love, and he was sincerely proud of her being there.

But the muffled cardboard box told a different story.

“I’ve experienced breaking through dimensions many times. Setting aside romantic experiences, I once drew shoujo manga. Interacting with the male lead and other characters gave me confidence. This immature work gave me a bit of faith in creation and made me believe dimensions could be broken.”

“Do you still have the manga?”

“Lost it. During a move, a box went missing, containing three drafts. Never seen them since.” Jiang Huan scratched her head. “I believe in the lives of virtual characters. Perhaps in the cyber world, game characters could be reborn as different roles. Or this heroic instinct could pass down through time and generations. Those who stay close to fantasy worlds aren’t easily locked away. Having a deep connection with a character is the greatest luck—they give me courage at ten, twenty, and will continue to inspire me at thirty.”

“Main Quest 3-4 has ended. Lv65 → Lv66. Dropped: 50,000 coins, items ‘Wanderer’s Void’ and ‘Mystical Tower.’ This quest was not fully completed; key item ‘Limited Island Encounter’ was not obtained. Retry?”

Bai Jingchuan smiled and selected “No.”

“I believe in the lives of virtual characters. Perhaps in the cyber world, game characters could be reborn as different roles. Or this heroic instinct could pass down through time and generations. Those who stay close to fantasy worlds aren’t easily locked away. Having a deep connection with a character is the greatest luck—they give me courage at ten, twenty, and will continue to inspire me at thirty.”

The ice cubes in the wine glass gradually melted. The neutral perfume sprayed on was a new product sent by a collaborating brand. Wen Li, watching the live stream in her office, clicked the download button. She had intended to casually watch the stream, sip some wine, and call a car to go home, but the cardboard box streaming made her laugh unexpectedly. She watched till the end, touched by that line.

This time, she wouldn’t give her heart away easily. She hadn’t forgotten how Bright had shattered her heart last time. This time, she used a fake name—when she saw the mythical worldview at the start of the game, she joked about how long she’d actually play. Right, just pick any name. Yes, call it Seal Heart Lock Love.

The first male lead appeared, named… Yan Zhun, alias Yan Zhengyi. Nicknames were indeed easier to remember than real names. During the rare meeting time, Yan Zhengyi approached her on the screen, placing her hand on his chest: “Don’t worry. Memories you’re determined to forget imply things you don’t want to forget. When you realize those memories don’t matter anymore, you’ll have truly overcome the hardest times. Right, Miss Seal Heart Lock Love?”

Seeing the name Seal Heart Lock Love, she burst out laughing. Game names shouldn’t be chosen randomly.

Impossible to immerse herself!

But it was indeed more interesting than expected. The men moved realistically, their skin textures lifelike. Though inexperienced with combat, it was fresh, and brute-forcing worked if she spent more time. Annoying—could she pay to boost strength?

She wasted the first eight days because spending money wasn’t allowed. On the final night, she teleported to the snowy mountain. Interacting with just Yan Zhengyi had been fun; what were the other male leads like? At least see one more, right?

Who was the guy in red? His jet-black hair and eyes were arrogant yet captivating. What? Why cursed? Bring him back to the cave? Too wild, no thanks…

What? Just lie down and sleep while he goes outside? Was this some pure baby bus?

Furiously clicking the screen, she stayed up all night grinding monsters and advancing the plot. In her office, Wen Li barely moved, not even drinking water.

She charged into the snow cave on the snowy mountain, locking eyes with Duanmu Xuan up close. He resembled a wolf boy with orange-red fur, alert and dangerous, yet seeking opportunities to cuddle intimately by her side. She didn’t remember the monsters she fought or Duanmu Xuan’s heroic figure, but the man guarding the entrance after circling the hay bed mesmerized her. Desperate to see more of the plot, she woke up to find him gone. Progressing a bit further in the main storyline would lead to the next map, but she ran out of time. At 5 AM, she had to catch an early flight with her team for a new product launch—time was insufficient.

The internal test didn’t allow spending money, and the trial lasted only a week. The male leads appeared only in fragments, offering no shortcuts to view the plot.

Yet she was utterly hooked. Calling a car to the airport, she exited the game at 4:59 AM, re-entered at 5:00 AM for the new day’s tasks, and frantically farmed resources. As soon as the car stopped, she sprinted off. The driver shouted from behind: “Miss, your suitcase!”

During security checks, she didn’t forget her suitcase, focusing entirely on the plot while walking toward the boarding gate, tapping the screen rapidly without time to listen to the voiceovers. She had to finish Duanmu Xuan’s storyline. The righteous boy didn’t care about his reputation but vowed to protect hers at all costs. After escorting her partway, he disappeared, saying, “We’ll meet again; following has no fixed route.” We’ll meet soon.

She looked up as a plane taxied for takeoff, preparing to soar into the clouds.

Once on the plane, internet access was unavailable. Closing her eyes, she saw Duanmu Xuan’s face nearing hers—an aggressive beast full of curiosity, yet shy around the girl. In the end, he should’ve… blushed. She remembered.

Drowsily waking up, she found a string of letters on the keyboard, including four Chinese characters—

Forever and ever.

...Was this insane? After playing the game for two days, the male lead dared to give her such a serious promise? Which male lead? But the next second, the red-clad figure entered her vision. She shook her head—just a mobile game, don’t get too immersed. Her friend’s cat had once stepped on “Mom” too.

But in the dimly lit office late at night, she vividly remembered facing the red-clad man in the snowy mountain, with the impending snowstorm behind her. Duanmu Xuan wasn’t afraid at all, preparing seriously for the fight, smiling without burdening her, unlike the “burden” and “drag” often heard in real life.

His gaze was so sincere.

“My range of movement isn’t large, but drawing a circle with you as the center makes it infinitely vast. Following has no fixed route, only the destination of the heart. If I can’t wait, I won’t stay in place—I’ll set out to find you.”

All was silent except for the gentle breeze entering through the window. Duanmu Xuan treated adventure as fun, ignoring curses and isolation. Her senses were awakened; she could hear only her heartbeat.

The perfume on her body carried the scent of snow after a night. Why?