WG - 19

“......”

Chi Zhiyu handed the phone back to Lin Jie.

“Sorry for the trouble, and thanks for letting me use it. I probably made you lose points,” Chi Zhiyu said with a smile.

Lin Jie was still in shock, taking the phone absentmindedly and looking at the game stats on the screen.

The number of kills his character had?

A two-digit number?

This… this wasn’t someone who was new at all!

The boys at the neighboring table hadn’t expected this either. They had landed in P City thinking they were just messing around, and most of them had died early, leaving only Lin Jie as the sole survivor.

So they switched perspectives to check Lin Jie’s screen.

They thought it was funny that he was hiding in the bathroom, but didn’t pay much attention until suddenly, his movements became incredibly smooth and aggressive—it was like watching a pro gamer take flight, impossible to follow how he was doing it.

All they heard were continuous bursts of gunfire, one headshot after another—like everyone was possessed by master marksmen ready to ascend to heaven.

They quickly looked up toward Lin Jie’s seat, only to freeze.

?

Why was Xie Ye playing?

The tall boy held the phone horizontally, his fingers moving rapidly across the screen. His expression was completely calm, showing no signs of tension.

There was an inexplicable sense of disdain?

Before they could figure it out, the sound of gunfire from the phone suddenly stopped.

When they looked down, they saw the game character stutter slightly, as if the controls lagged behind the opponent’s speed.

He dodged one shot but miscalculated, failing to evade an attack from the enemy teammate.

And then...

They heard the sharp “thud” of a phone being slammed onto the desk from the neighboring group.

Very angry.

The boys snapped out of it and quickly exited the game, closing their eyes and chanting silently:

No, we didn’t see anything.

What the eyes don’t see, the heart doesn’t grieve over.

Unseen, unheard, unspoken.

Proper decorum.

Lin Jie sat quietly in his seat, not daring to make a sound. He cautiously glanced at Xie Ye, then quickly shifted his gaze to Chi Zhiyu.

Was he mad?

Because they lost? Or because...

As if guessing his thoughts, Chi Zhiyu waved her hand dismissively. “It’s fine. He’s actually terrible at this game, so don’t worry about it.”

“...”

Lin Jie didn’t dare nod. He wasn’t sure whether to mention that the headshot rate was far from “terrible.”

Chi Zhiyu herself found it strange too. This guy would sit in front of the computer every day when he had nothing better to do, playing the same game—and he seemed pretty skilled.

“What’s wrong with you?” Chi Zhiyu defended him, turning to ask Xie Ye, “Don’t you play this game on the computer every day?”

Lin Jie was startled by her words.

Xie Ye leaned back in his chair and lazily explained, “It’s different from playing on a computer. The controls aren’t as smooth.”

Although Chi Zhiyu often watched Xie Ye play, she had never tried it herself, so she didn’t understand.

But Lin Jie, noticing something, instinctively asked, “Is it PUBG?”

PUBG was the foreign abbreviation for the computer version of the game. Compared to the mobile version, it was more complex and professional.

But most people preferred to play the mobile version because it was convenient, portable, and easier to operate—just move your fingers.

Hearing this, Xie Ye raised his eyes to look at him.

Lin Jie locked eyes with him and quickly explained, “Never mind, I was just asking.”

“Why did you ask that?” Chi Zhiyu raised an eyebrow. “Do you also play PUBG?”

“I do,” Lin Jie pursed his lips, “but I’m still pretty bad.”

“Don’t be modest. You played really well earlier; I don’t think you’re bad at all,” Chi Zhiyu said.

“No way, I can’t compare to Xie Ye,” Lin Jie said admiringly. “His skills and techniques are incredible.”

“Oh.” Chi Zhiyu nodded. “Yeah, he is pretty good. But even so, he still ended up dying in the end.”

“...”

Xie Ye let out a faint “Hmph,” glancing at her with cold indifference, showing no emotion.

Lin Jie shuddered and subtly shifted backward in his seat.

Xie Ye looked at Chi Zhiyu. “If you’ve got guts, try it yourself.”

Chi Zhiyu shook her head. “I won’t try.”

“You can’t?” Xie Ye asked.

“Of course not.” Chi Zhiyu sincerely looked at him. “I know my limits.”

Lin Jie: “...”

Xie Ye: “...”

Her words were truly infuriating.

Though technically correct, there was an obvious undertone of sarcasm. Yet, she hadn’t directly named anyone.

So you couldn’t really do anything to her. If you asked, she would probably innocently respond, “I didn’t say anything. I was talking about myself.”

She could drive you silent with her indirectness.

Impressive.

Xie Ye’s lips twitched slightly. He lifted his lashes and looked at Lin Jie, his tone icy. “Let me borrow your phone.”

“Huh?” Lin Jie realized what he meant. “Oh, okay.”

He quickly handed the phone to Xie Ye, adding kindly, “It’s fine if we lose points.”

“...”

Hearing this considerate reminder, Chi Zhiyu found it amusing and couldn’t help but smile.

This was truly rubbing salt into the wound.

Chi Zhiyu turned her head to look at him.

Just then, her gaze collided with Xie Ye’s cool stare.

“...”

Chi Zhiyu coughed softly and gently consoled him, “It’s fine. Do your best, and try not to lose too many points.”

Xie Ye chuckled faintly. “Lose points?”

“Oh,” his expression was smug, his tone still mocking.

“I won’t lose any.”

“...”

After an intense and thrilling battlefield session, the afternoon self-study Q&A class began.

Chi Zhiyu focused on finishing her homework, paying no attention to what Xie Ye was doing.

She assumed he took Lin Jie’s phone to practice, but to her surprise, he didn’t touch it. Just before class started, he opened the game interface, played for two or three minutes, then quit and returned the phone to Lin Jie.

Confused.

Chi Zhiyu didn’t ask him and diligently continued her homework.

But Lin Jie seemed to have many questions he wanted to ask Xie Ye. However, he was too afraid to ask directly and first tested the waters with Chi Zhiyu.

Seeing his reaction, Chi Zhiyu smiled. “What are you afraid of? Xie Ye isn’t going to eat you.”

Lin Jie cleared his throat. “It’s just... I’m not used to it.”

“Talk more, get to know him, and you’ll be fine.” Chi Zhiyu gestured toward Su Le, who had been sleeping since returning earlier. “Do you still think Su Le is scary?”

“Not anymore.”

“Then why are you afraid of Xie Ye?”

“The aura is different.”

“Alright, aura.” Chi Zhiyu laughed and introduced Lin Jie to Xie Ye.

She let the two talk.

Afterward, she paused.

Suddenly, she realized that she had often done this kind of thing since childhood—explaining to others what kind of person Xie Ye was.

It was almost as if she were his spokesperson.

But she had never grown tired of it.

The questions Lin Jie asked Xie Ye weren’t about academics but rather about techniques for playing PUBG.

Chi Zhiyu didn’t care about this. By the time class ended, she had just finished writing an exam paper.

Coincidentally, Wu Xuan came to find her to go practice dancing, and Li Taoran happened to come over to hang out with Xie Ye.

“Let’s go. Jiang Jinxu should be waiting for us downstairs.”

Wu Xuan had just finished speaking when the girls in the classroom noticed something and turned their heads toward the back door.

Wu Xuan found this strange and followed their gaze. When she saw the elegant young man standing at the doorway, she silently nodded. “Alright, no need for us to go. He’s already come up to wait for us.”

“Hmm?” Chi Zhiyu was still organizing her bag and didn’t pay much attention to her words.

“Chi Zhiyu.”

Upon hearing her name, Chi Zhiyu turned her head.

Jiang Jinxu stood near the back door, close to her seat. Seeing her look over, he called softly, “Are you ready?”

His tone was natural.

Hearing this, Chi Zhiyu furrowed her brow slightly.

Beside her, Xie Ye stared for two seconds, then calmly averted his gaze.

Li Taoran, who had noticed both of them, spoke bluntly, “Why is Jiang Jinxu here today?”

“We three agreed to go to the dance studio together at noon,” Wu Xuan quickly explained.

Li Taoran raised an eyebrow. “The three of you were together at noon?”

Wu Xuan didn’t dare look at Xie Ye and cleared her throat. “Chi Zhiyu and I were eating at a noodle shop when we ran into Jiang Jinxu. Since there were no seats left, he asked if he could join our table.”

“Joining tables?” Li Taoran asked. “Why does it sound so complicated?”

“...” Wu Xuan smiled. “Why are you asking so many questions?”

Li Taoran: “?”

Jiang Jinxu chuckled lightly. “I just felt like having noodles at noon. When I went in, I saw them eating too, but I came late and there were no seats left, so I asked if I could join their table.”

Li Taoran suddenly understood. “Oh, so it was a coincidence. If I’d known, Xie Ye and I could’ve gone to eat noodles too and joined you guys.”

After saying this, Li Taoran turned to talk to Xie Ye. “Xie Ye, let’s go eat noodles tomorrow.”

Xie Ye showed no expression, seemingly annoyed, and coldly replied, “If you want to eat, go by yourself.”

“No, if we’re eating, we should all go together. What’s the point of me eating alone?”

“Is there a problem with you eating alone?”

“...”

Wu Xuan chimed in. “Exactly, you’re old enough to eat by yourself, aren’t you?”

“What’s going on?” Li Taoran feigned innocence. “Are you all ganging up on me?”

Xie Ye lazily raised his eyelids, picked up Lin Jie’s phone, and naturally opened the game.

Noticing this, Chi Zhiyu was momentarily stunned.

“Hey!” Li Taoran blinked. “Why are you suddenly playing this game?”

Xie Ye ignored him.

Meanwhile, Jiang Jinxu checked his watch and reminded them, “Are you ready? We should get going.”

Wu Xuan nodded. “I’m ready.”

She asked Chi Zhiyu, “Are you ready?”

Chi Zhiyu snapped out of it and hummed softly, zipping up her bag with one hand. “Let’s go.”

As she stood up, she inexplicably glanced at Xie Ye beside her.

He was slouching in his chair, sitting with no proper posture, holding the phone horizontally, eyes lowered to the screen, fingers moving across it.

Li Taoran sat next to him, talking to him, but Xie Ye didn’t raise his head, showing no expression.

His demeanor was very cold.

Perhaps sensing her obvious gaze, Xie Ye lifted his eyelids and locked eyes with her.

Xie Ye didn’t say anything, quietly observing her for a few seconds before calmly averting his gaze.

Chi Zhiyu: “...”

Chi Zhiyu: ?

Why did she feel a sense of pity?

Chi Zhiyu thought it must be her imagination. She told him, “I’m leaving.”

But Xie Ye completely ignored her. It was Li Taoran who waved at her and said, “Come back soon.”

Hearing this, Xie Ye’s lips curled faintly into a smirk.

His attitude was rather arrogant.

Chi Zhiyu noticed it, smiled, nodded politely at Li Taoran, deliberately ignored Xie Ye, and turned to leave.

After seeing them off, Li Taoran lowered his head and prepared to spectate the game Xie Ye was playing.

But from the moment he had taken out the phone, Xie Ye had been stuck on the waiting screen, not starting the game.

“Do you even know how to play?” Li Taoran still doubted.

Xie Ye glanced at him. “What do you think?”

“...” Li Taoran said, “Well, if you know how to play, why haven’t you started yet?”

Xie Ye paused, casually clicking to start the game.

Li Taoran watched as, within a few minutes of the match starting, Xie Ye secured his first kill.

As the match progressed, every five minutes, another kill—crisp gunshots rang out.

There was a sense of ruthless slaughter.

Especially the expression of the person playing the game—it was cold and merciless.

Li Taoran couldn’t bear to watch anymore and decided to ask about dinner. “Where should we eat? Cafeteria?”

Xie Ye: “Not eating.”

Li Taoran frowned. “Then what are you eating?”

Xie Ye didn’t answer.

A gunshot rang out from the phone—”Bang!”—the final headshot ending the match.

The game concluded.

Xie Ye stared at the victory screen in silence for three seconds, then faintly smirked. “Let’s eat noodles.”