Chapter 56: “I Heard That Realizing You Like Someone Feels Like Thinking, ‘It’s Great to Have Met You.’ Only Now Do I Understand—Liking Someone Feels Like Regretting Not Meeting Them Sooner.”

“Empty? It’s been a while. Let’s grab a drink.”

She deliberately ordered cocktails themed in red and tucked the drink cards into her pocket. Jiang Huan could immediately tell that Wen Li was completely obsessed with Duanmu Xuan—and quite deeply at that. She knew exactly why Wen Li had reached out to meet her; just one look at her eyes revealed it all. Struggling with propriety, Wen Li hesitated to speak but couldn’t contain herself, teetering on the edge of bursting forth, clearly trying to pry more information about Duanmu Xuan. However, adhering to the strict confidentiality of unreleased projects, Jiang Huan deflected and evaded, steering clear of any sensitive details. Wen Li seemed genuinely smitten with Duanmu Xuan. Before drinking, she coolly claimed indifference and calmly expressed her temporary admiration for Love Continent . After a few drinks, though, her lips loosened, and she began rambling endlessly. Even drunk, she kept pestering Jiang Huan: “Is Duanmu Xuan based on someone? Which anime character is he inspired by? I’ll go binge-watch it. When will it launch? Give me a chance to see…”

It was getting absurd. Jiang Huan shoved Wen Li into a taxi, then worried she wouldn’t make it home safely, so she climbed in too. At the door, Wen Li fumbled with the keypad while Jiang Huan glanced over—wasn’t that… Duanmu Xuan’s birthday?

Was her infatuation really this intense?

That old piano had been dragged back into Wen Li’s living room again. Jiang Huan had already witnessed two rounds of this tug-of-war over the piano. It wasn’t valuable—it might not even be playable. Curious, Jiang Huan lifted the lid, only to have it slip off and nearly fall. Flustered, she hastily pushed it back in place, thinking, if they fought over it twice more, the poor thing might end up in pieces on the road. The phone rang several times, but Wen Li ignored it, lying down without a second thought. Jiang Huan glanced at the screen—it read “Vampire.” She figured it must be Wen Li’s mother.

After fetching a warm towel and returning to the living room, Jiang Huan gently patted Wen Li’s shoulder. Cradling her phone in the crook of her arm, Wen Li peered out with half her face, her dazed eyes glued to the screen as her fingers slowly swiped. The screen displayed the snowy mountain map, transitioning into the main storyline where Duanmu Xuan sat in the snow cave, staring out at the player. If you touched his face, he’d blush like a ripe tomato. This interactive feature was one the production team took pride in. The flickering firelight illuminated Duanmu Xuan’s face, and the game’s camera captured the player’s reflection in his dark pupils. When your hand touched his face, its shadow would overlay his features, his hair slightly fluttering, and he’d blush.

“Does the world of Love Continent actually exist?”

“If you want it to, then it does. It’s a complete open-world experience where you can live alongside the person you love.”

“I… have a feeling.”

Wen Li stared at the screen as Duanmu Xuan approached, asking who she was. Jiang Huan observed Wen Li, who had reported them just six months ago, now gazing with eyes full of tenderness and sadness: “I’ve been drowning for years, choking to the point where there was no hope of surfacing. This year, I finally reached shallow waters, struggling just enough to breathe. I’m still floating, unable to reach the shore. But now, someone has thrown me a piece of driftwood. I know it’s fake, but someone is curious about me. Maybe he’ll even love me.”

Jiang Huan simply patted her head. Beneath her fashionable and sharp exterior, Wen Li wasn’t as invincible as she appeared. If being consistent inside and out made someone a cool fashion icon, then Wen Li’s fragility was undeniable. Just seeing her happy made Jiang Huan realize how rarely there had been a “final straw” in her life.

“What if he plays the flute? Would his weapon also be a flute? Is he a master musician?” Wen Li guessed earnestly. “I’ve seen plenty of analyses on Xiaohongshu—he hides in plain sight but sneaks onto hills during festivals to eavesdrop on ceremonial music. Don’t you think he loves music and connects with people?”

“You don’t need to judge him by our standards,” Jiang Huan laughed. “Your imagination can become his reality. After all, this romance belongs to you. Who he is in your heart, how you understand him, that’s how he’ll love you. But one thing remains constant.”

“What?”

“He belongs solely to you and will always love you.”

________________________________________

Bai Jingchuan followed the route to the shop where he was meeting Jiang Huan. Without the dice, there was no one to consult. He didn’t need to use ventriloquy to chat with others—he could hear the sounds of the street. Without the dice, the path felt eerily quiet, and stepping into bustling crowds became overwhelmingly noisy. From a high vantage point, he could still see the border of Mowu City, blending reality and illusion—a silent pressure from the Realm of Myriad Gods.

Seeing Jiang Huan calmed Bai Jingchuan’s heart. On the other side of the shop window, she was admiring the trinkets inside. Opening the door, Bai Jingchuan quietly closed it again and stood by the entrance, secretly watching her. The revolving star projector played ethereal music, its light spilling onto Jiang Huan’s face. She leaned down, her eyes lifting to watch, curiosity and anticipation glowing in her gaze. Even motionless, the subtle shifts in her expression captivated Bai Jingchuan, revealing the magic of the universe. Thinking of the invitation to the Realm of Myriad Gods, his heart ached faintly, unwilling to interrupt the girl lost in wonder.

“You have used your eye photography function to record this moment.”

Jiang Huan finally noticed Bai Jingchuan standing nearby after a long while. She waved enthusiastically. One tried to push the door while the other pulled, turning the door into an obstacle. Bai Jingchuan let go, and Jiang Huan rushed out, colliding into his chest, oblivious to the night’s ambiguity and the door’s suggestive creak: “You know, Wen Li really likes Duanmu Xuan. She’s so obsessed that she came to me for intel. We’re doing great—she once reported us!”

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

“Putting everything from the internal test out there for public judgment—I’m worried there won’t be anything fresh left for the official release. People will lose interest.”

“There are plenty of bad reviews. The next phase might leave you in agony.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind. I’ll live in the office if I have to. As long as you’re leading, I believe we can solve anything.”

The Realm of Myriad Gods would never go live. Bai Jingchuan didn’t know how to tell Jiang Huan, so he hinted indirectly: “Maybe you should learn to adapt. If Love Continent can’t launch, at least other projects can still support your dreams.”

“Bai Jingchuan, I don’t understand. Under your leadership, Love Continent is running so smoothly. How can you say such discouraging things?” Jiang Huan clenched her fists and gestured emphatically: “Whatever difficulties arise, we’ll solve them together!”

Bai Jingchuan couldn’t bring himself to say that the greatest difficulty was helping her escape the Realm of Myriad Gods’ plan and survive. The melancholy atmosphere spun like a music box, beautiful yet sorrowful, tightening whenever he saw Jiang Huan, worrying about dangers around her. For now, increasing her affection level was the only way to retrieve Eros and gather information in Mowu City. He had to tread carefully around her, striving to win her affection.

He gently removed a fallen leaf from Jiang Huan’s hair, but she grabbed his wrist: “Bai Jingchuan, I need to conduct some tests on you.”

“What kind of tests?”

“To see how many extraordinary abilities you possess.”

“Warning: Please conceal your identity.”

What else was there to hide? Bai Jingchuan didn’t know whether to attribute this to the system’s intelligence or pretend ignorance. As long as Jiang Huan didn’t utter the name “Li Junzhu,” and as long as he didn’t admit anything, he could continue being Bai Jingchuan in her presence. Jiang Huan was indeed clever, accustomed to speaking in riddles, treating him as Bai Jingchuan. He, in turn, enjoyed watching her probe him, marveling at her curiosity and delighting in her attempts to uncover how he’d arrived.

Her focus on him was enough to make him happy and utterly adorable. Even with an uncertain ending, the undertone was bittersweet.

She took out her phone and opened Peacekeeper Elite : “Let’s play a round.”

“What?”

“No hiding. Show me your true skills.”

“Shooting in games? I’m not that good.”

Of course, he couldn’t mention the scandal of being banned for suspected cheating. Jiang Huan grinned mischievously: “Try first, then talk.”

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

Bai Jingchuan hadn’t forgotten the nimble fingers and intense expressions of the tech department boys during gaming sessions, nor the awe-inspiring prowess of esports pros he’d witnessed firsthand. Still, his gameplay left Jiang Huan dumbfounded. While sneaking into a house, he threw a smoke grenade, accidentally flushing out an enemy. Without hesitation, he shot the enemy in the butt. Unfamiliar with the controls, he switched to a dagger by mistake and fumbled switching back. Just then, an enemy tossed a flashbang into the yard, and in his panic, he retreated hastily, bumping straight into another enemy. His dagger plunged into the opponent’s chest, eliminating them. With ten seconds left and unable to find the last enemy, Bai Jingchuan, holding a grenade, decided to toss it randomly into a bush, giving up on winning or losing. In the final five seconds, Jiang Huan watched as a figure flew out of the bush, limbs flailing—the enemy count hit zero, and the match ended.

The entire process was jaw-dropping. Jiang Huan watched in confusion: “I’ve only heard rumors of you getting banned for using cheats. I never imagined such ruthless tactics.”

“Just coincidence. I don’t know much about operating phones. Give me a real gun, and I’ll show you.”

Jiang Huan understood now—this wasn’t some ordinary video game character. His violence wouldn’t pass censorship. Still unconvinced, she took Bai Jingchuan to an arcade and bought a basket of tokens, standing in front of a claw machine: “Grab something.”

The plush toys inside each machine weren’t particularly appealing. Bai Jingchuan didn’t find them ugly—he simply asked: “Which type do you want? The bowling pin chicken, the freckled little girl, or this twin-tailed frog-faced one?”

“...Do you think I’d like any of these?” Jiang Huan pointed to the redemption counter behind the counter: “Thirty points can get you an oversized moon pillow. I want that.”

“If I catch it, promise to go on a date with me.”

“No problem.”

Thirty points for one item—simple enough. Rolling up his sleeves, Bai Jingchuan gripped the joystick. From Jiang Huan’s angle, his middle and ring fingers pressed together, making her nose itch and cheeks flush subtly.

Unfortunately, Bai Jingchuan wasn’t very skilled at operating the claw machine, and after three failed attempts, he began to feel anxious. Taking advantage of Jiang Huan not paying attention, he positioned a plush toy against the triangular claw and managed to snag it effortlessly in the middle. Jiang Huan had clearly seen him fail earlier, but in the blink of an eye, he suddenly succeeded. Excitedly leaning close to Bai Jingchuan, her voice low yet brimming with excitement, she exclaimed: “I knew you had superpowers!”

Bai Jingchuan didn’t hesitate, signaling for Jiang Huan to grab the small cart, his expression conveying “everything is under control.” For the next thirty coins, he moved swiftly, his gaze intense—but every attempt ended in failure. Jiang Huan’s expression shifted from ecstatic joy to disappointment, then to calmness, and finally to speechlessness.

With only one bowling pin chicken plush earned after thirty coins, it was a crushing defeat for someone like Bai Jingchuan, who was supposed to be a charming and capable man. Coincidentally, a boy nearby helped his girlfriend win five plush toys in a row, and the girlfriend squealed as she hugged him tightly—a stark contrast. Jiang Huan looked dejected: “I don’t get it. Aren’t you supposed to have superpowers? Didn’t you tell me to bring the cart? How come we only got one toy?”

“I really wish I could be invincible, but I’m just an ordinary person. There are things I can’t do.”

Her face practically screamed, “Let’s see how long you’ll keep pretending.” Jiang Huan grabbed the plush toy, pouting, and stormed out of the arcade. Bai Jingchuan, of course, knew that Jiang Huan expected him to sweep the board, but he wanted to rely solely on his own skills without using any special abilities. He simply hadn’t anticipated that his skill level would be—so abysmal!

If the dice were here, they’d surely say, “Such poor performance is unbecoming of an executor.”

The amusement park buzzed with laughter, one of the few places where he felt truly relaxed. Young men and women danced trendy K-pop moves on the dance machines. Bai Jingchuan hurried to catch up with Jiang Huan: “Are there any other pop quizzes?”

“No.”

The two walked through the bustling street market, one striding ahead with her hands behind her back, the other following with hurried steps. Bai Jingchuan initially thought Jiang Huan was upset, but when he noticed her fingers moving repeatedly behind her back, he realized she was signaling for him to hold her hand. Music and chatter mingled together, and in the night, heads bobbed amidst the crowd. Children held aloft laughed, steam rose from vendors’ pots of snacks, and girls browsed pretty fans and floral hairpins. The lively atmosphere was palpable. As the crowd pushed them apart, Bai Jingchuan grew frustrated at not being able to hold her hand. Catching up quickly, he pulled her into his arms and firmly took her hand. Just a few steps later, Jiang Huan suddenly stopped, pointing at an ice shop: “Ah.”

If you finished a bowl of rice cake snow ice within five minutes, it was free, plus you’d receive a cute cat plushie. Upon closer inspection, the plushie was fluffy with bright black eyes, perfect for cuddling while sleeping—far more practical than the oversized moon pillow upstairs.

“This is such a huge bowl—it’s a bit too much, isn’t it?”

“No, not at all.” Bai Jingchuan’s eyes sparkled: “This first-place prize is mine.”

He confidently entered the shop and sat down. When the massive bowl of snow ice was served, Jiang Huan broke into a cold sweat. It was an enormous portion topped with rice cakes and sprinkled with roasted soybean powder, making it look incredibly appetizing. Finishing it within five minutes meant scarfing down icy treats along with all the chewy rice cakes. The shop owner stood by with a timer: “Are you ready?”

Jiang Huan nervously glanced at Bai Jingchuan, who was red-eyed, gripping his fork tightly as he awaited the countdown. Despite his intellectual demeanor, he was now driven by the allure of dessert. Someone started filming, adding commentary: “He’s doing what I’ve always wanted to do—taking on a challenge for love, especially with such a huge bowl of rice cake snow ice.” The challenge began. He ate the rice cakes bite by bite, eventually switching to a spoon to scoop up large mouthfuls, eating faster and faster. Nearby couples struggled with tiny spoons, but Bai Jingchuan remained composed, eating with heroic determination yet maintaining elegance, as if decorum was ingrained in his bones.

When the five minutes were up, the shop owner called time. Everyone in the shop and the customers stared at Bai Jingchuan in awe. The enormous bowl had been completely emptied, and the man sitting at the table wiped his mouth with a napkin, still appearing unsatisfied.

The crowd cheered: “Elegant, truly elegant.”

Bai Jingchuan handed the cat plushie to Jiang Huan, as if finally proving his capabilities. His charm lasted only three seconds before a loud burp shattered the romantic moment, causing everyone around to burst into laughter. Bai Jingchuan smiled awkwardly: “Sorry, I ate too quickly.”

Holding the plushie and handing it to Jiang Huan, Bai Jingchuan tried to feel triumphant, but the hiccups wouldn’t stop. Walking out of the shop, he looked like a handsome celebrity except for the incessant hiccups, resembling an elegant yet helpless mole with no hole to hide in. Feeling both embarrassed and annoyed, Bai Jingchuan tried to avoid Jiang Huan’s gaze, shrinking his figure as he hiccupped uncontrollably. Jiang Huan found it amusing, following closely and patting his back: “It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Why are you hiding from me?”

“Jiang Huan’s affection for you +500.”

Bai Jingchuan couldn’t understand why his affection points increased during this hiccup episode. Isn’t constant hiccupping a sign of something wrong? Why were people staring at him? Haven’t they ever seen someone hiccup?

Trapped with nowhere to hide, Jiang Huan giggled as Bai Jingchuan’s face turned red, holding his breath to suppress the hiccups. Jiang Huan grabbed him: “Plushie, help me hold it.”

Just as he took the plushie, Jiang Huan tiptoed and kissed him lightly. Bai Jingchuan didn’t have time to dodge, fearing that either embarrassment or an unexpected hiccup might ruin the moment.

But after the kiss, the surroundings returned to their usual clamor. Someone teased them for public displays of affection—and miraculously, the hiccups stopped.

“When startled, people tend to stop hiccupping. Didn’t you know this trick?”

The sensation on his lips lingered, and the cat plushie remained in his arms. Being kissed unexpectedly had indeed stopped the hiccups—how fascinating the human body was. While instant gratification brought happiness, Bai Jingchuan finally understood where his inner villainous tendencies lay. Like waiting quietly for the heroine to grow, most of the time was spent delaying satisfaction. Just like Jiang Huan transforming into a strawberry mochi bread—he wasn’t in a rush to obtain anything. He simply wanted to nurture her longer, allowing her to surpass his imagination, building anticipation to its peak.

Now, though it seemed like he held the reins, keeping Jiang Huan’s heart suspended and seeking his attention, in reality, he was the one being manipulated. Even the smallest things could surprise him.

Bai Jingchuan respected the rules of reality and systems, believing that straightforward descriptions without embellishment were the most trustworthy. Now, he humbly understood a simple truth: hearing that realizing you like someone feels like thinking, “It’s great to have met you.” Only now did he realize that liking someone feels like regretting not meeting them sooner.

Jiang Huan, holding the cat plushie, turned around and tapped Bai Jingchuan’s nose: “This cat plushie is actually for you.”

“Men don’t need these.”

“Don’t you sleep?” Jiang Huan shoved the pillow into his arms: “Bai Jingchuan, I have a bad feeling.”

This made him tense: “What kind of feeling?”

“You’re not very good at love.”

“Oh?”

“Li Junzhu wasn’t either. Both of you, before confirming a relationship, relied entirely on your girlfriends being hopelessly devoted.”

Bai Jingchuan froze, taking a moment to regain composure: “Didn’t I say earlier? Please teach me.”

“That’s different. When Li Junzhu was an executor, he liked ‘fishing’—reeling people in but never revealing his feelings. Modern girls definitely wouldn’t fall for that.”

“And you? Would you fall for it?”

“No.”

“…”

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

Jiang Huan was quite pleased to see the man in front of her flustered, especially since he had just finished hiccupping, with a tuft of hair sticking up on his head, looking utterly disheveled. But after being kissed, he had gotten what he deserved. She solemnly poked the hiccup culprit’s nose: “You know, no matter how authoritative the executor once was, he was educated by the heroine. There’s actually a secret guide to romance.”

“What do you mean?”

“The executor had no childhood, was ruthless, carelessly exuded charm before falling in love, and excessively restrained himself afterward, leading to misunderstandings. So what should’ve been confirmed in a year dragged on for three, and kisses were delayed until the heroine took the initiative. Of course, since the project hasn’t launched, he probably doesn’t know this secret guide and never learned it.”

That described him perfectly. Bai Jingchuan grew increasingly anxious: “So, what exactly is this secret guide?”

“You want to know?”

“Of course.”

“Jiang Huan’s affection for you +300. Level up to Lv 67, dropped 50,000 coins, 5 item boxes.”

A sly, cunning smile flashed across Jiang Huan’s face as she patted the cat plushie in his arms: “Earlier, I forgot all about the manga I drew myself—it’s so strange. This time, I’ll tell you, and if I forget again, you have to remember it for me.”

PS: Very sorry for Zhang’s delay! Little Yang fell ill for a day, but updates will proceed normally now. Thanks, everyone! Feel free to add this to your bookshelf and vote with recommendation tickets. I’ll wait for you all to chat today!