Chapter 22: Heart Moves: Day 2

Recently, Guanguan had become obsessed with gaming.

It was a wildly popular mobile game in the country called Honor of Kings.

Jiang Wan had tried it a few times before but never really got into it. Still, she couldn’t hold out against Guanguan’s constant nagging, so she finally agreed to play a few matches with her over the weekend.

That evening, the moment she logged in, Guanguan dragged her into a lobby.

Only after joining did she notice there was already someone else in there.

Everyone had their mics on, and Guanguan—who was usually so loud and rowdy—was surprisingly much more demure, her voice soft and gentle.

It felt downright weird to Jiang Wan.

No need to guess. That had to be Cen Jin.

“Yo, who knew our goody-two-shoes could game?” Cen Jin teased with a laugh.

Jiang Wan frowned but said nothing.

She rejected the “goody-two-shoes” label outright.

By the same token, she didn’t believe good students had to be shackled by certain expectations.

“What, you don’t think I’m a good student? Don’t discriminate!” Guanguan demanded, clearly upset.

“My bad, my bad. Muting myself now.” Cen Jin let out a low chuckle and surrendered.

Guanguan huffed under her breath. Jiang Wan could practically picture the girl clapping her hands over her face in embarrassment.

“Alright, let’s start then,” Guanguan said.

“Hold up, let me invite one more,” Cen Jin cut in.

Guanguan perked up. “Who?”

“You’ll see when she joins.”

For some reason, Jiang Wan sensed a hint of something deeper in Cen Jin’s tone.

A dozen seconds later, someone new popped into the lobby.

The familiar avatar made Jiang Wan blurt out the name.

“Little Bei?”

“Since when did you two get so chummy, huh? Little Bei this, Little Bei that.” Cen Jin tsked.

“Shut it. No one’s mistaking you for a mute if you stay quiet.”

A clear, crisp female voice rang through the headset.

It sent a pleasant tingle through Jiang Wan’s ears, like a soft itch she couldn’t ignore.

She pressed her lips together, fiddled with her earphones, and felt her mouth tugging into a smile despite herself.

She’d come in half-heartedly, figuring she’d knock out a couple games with Guanguan and call it a night.

But now? Suddenly, the game held a bit of appeal.

“Start it up,” Bei Huai said flatly.

“Oh, right!” Guanguan, as lobby host, hopped to it.

Jiang Wan stared at the whirlwind of heroes on her screen, overwhelmed.

“Uh, what should I pick?”

“Wanwan, go support. Or just grab Yao—she’s super easy. Stick with the marksman after that,” Guanguan suggested.

“Little sis, pick whatever. Big sis here will carry the team,” Cen Jin boasted confidently.

Guanguan shot back dryly, “Don’t jinx us.”

“Worst case, we’ve got Sister Huai. With her around, what could go wrong?” Cen Jin shamelessly roped Bei Huai in.

Bei Huai responded with a string of periods: “….”

“But I barely play. I don’t wanna hold you back,” Jiang Wan said. With seconds to spare before hero select locked, she finally found Guanguan’s recommended “Yao.”

A cute little deer girl.

“Casual game. It’ll be fine,” Bei Huai replied curtly in six words.

“Who’s the marksman?” Jiang Wan asked, dead set on following Guanguan’s advice.

“Random matchup. He’s bot lane—go link up,” Guanguan said. She’d picked mage and snuck a quick glance at the map; the rando had gone Hou Yi.

“Got it.” Jiang Wan acknowledged awkwardly, fumbling her hero toward bot lane.

But the little deer girl had a mind of her own, darting into the jungle one second and spinning in circles the next.

She finally made it to the marksman—only to get hit with a soul-crushing question.

“You lagging?”

They were all on team voice chat; the random couldn’t hear a thing.

So Jiang Wan typed quietly.

“Yeah, sorry about that.”

“Hm? Wanwan, you lagging?” Guanguan asked loudly, as oblivious as ever.

“Uh… it’s good now,” Jiang Wan mumbled, her face heating up.

If it were just her and Guanguan, she’d have no qualms. But with those other two listening? No way was she embarrassing herself.

In her daze, she caught what sounded like a soft laugh through the headset.

Gone in an instant.

She touched her cheek. It burned even hotter.

The random marksman wasn’t much better—fed twice, taking Jiang Wan down with him once.

Then he turned on her. “Support, can you even play? If not, get out!”

That lit the fuse.

Guanguan’s fire immediately roared to life.

She jumped on the mic. “With that potato aim of yours, you even dare open your mouth? You’d make a great chef—top-tier at slinging blame.”

“If you’re trash, just stay quiet and farm. Casual queue, and you’re yapping to prove you exist?”

Cen Jin wasn’t on voice chat. No way was she lowering herself to argue with trash like that.

Instead, she typed leisurely: Forget it. No point stooping to his level. He’s not even worth it.

Jiang Wan tried to butt in and ease the tension, but both sides were firing on all cylinders, completely ignoring her.

The random marksman got so tilted he just hung up right there and recalled to base, then taunted even harder: “I’ll just sit back and watch how far you four can carry against their five!”

Bei Huai hadn’t said a word the whole time. She just waited for Jiang Wan to respawn, then said calmly, “Follow me.”

Bei Huai was playing Lan, the jungler—and the richest player on their team.

So Jiang Wan stuck to her like glue the entire match. Under Bei Huai’s guidance, she picked up the basics: farming shields, scouting bushes, all that good stuff.

Then Jiang Wan hung back as Bei Huai tower-dived the enemy, straight-up styling on them.

By the time Bei Huai had killed their marksman nine times, Jiang Wan finally caught on that something was off.

“Why are you laser-focusing the enemy marksman like that?” she asked, puzzled.

She could’ve easily taken out their mage just now, but the second Bei Huai spotted the marksman, she ditched the mage and dove straight for him.

The sheer aggression left Jiang Wan stunned.

“He rubs me the wrong way,” Bei Huai replied casually, snagging a double kill without breaking a sweat.

Jiang Wan: “…Right?”

The next second, the enemy marksman went full voice and text rant: “This is bullshit! Dude, you serious? I killed Yao once, and now you’ve camped me for ten! What, is Yao your ex or something?!”

Clearly, the poor guy was numb from all the deaths.

Reading that, Jiang Wan froze for a second. Then she remembered—her first death had been to that marksman.

Bei Huai had been holding that grudge since the start of the game, dead set on avenging her.

Jiang Wan ducked her head, unable to stop a smile from spreading across her face.

Guanguan piped up excitedly: “That was so badass! Wanwan, I’m jealous!”

“I’m pretty badass too, you know,” Cen Jin grumbled, just in time to spot two enemies lurking in the bushes. She sent them both packing.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re awesome too,” Guanguan said quickly.

Cen Jin: “…”

She wasn’t fooled by the obvious sarcasm.

Bei Huai stayed silent, her eyes glued to those three words—”your ex”—in the chat for a long, long time. So long she nearly got ganked.

No chance for a comeback. Bei Huai led the charge straight to the enemy nexus.

They won that 4v5 in a total breeze.

Right before the nexus exploded, Guanguan crowed: “See that? We win without you anyway. Gonna report your ass when we get out!”

After the game ended, Bei Huai said, “Wait five for me.”

Then she left the lobby.

The other three were baffled, but not even a minute later, Bei Huai was back.

“Little Bei, what’d you go do?” Jiang Wan asked curiously.

“Went to 1v1 him. He didn’t accept,” Bei Huai said, her voice a little down. Obviously, no duel meant she was pissed.

“That random from the match?” Cen Jin raised a brow, putting it together.

Bei Huai: “Yeah.”

Guanguan waved it off grandly: “Of course he wouldn’t. You’re way too good—he’s not lining up to get wrecked. Whatever, forget him. Let’s keep going.”

“I’ll grab someone else,” Cen Jin said.

Moments later, an anime guy avatar joined the lobby.

“Hey, everyone’s here.”

“Long time no see, Little Brother,” Guanguan said with a grin.

She knew Bei Qi too—they’d teamed up a lot lately with him, her, and Cen Jin.

Plus, Jiang Wan had told her he was Bei Huai’s little brother.

Made things even cozier.

“What long time? We played yesterday,” Bei Qi muttered, scratching his head.

Guanguan twitched. “Kid, ever heard of small talk?”

“Homework done before you jump into games?” Bei Huai said coldly.

The lobby’s lively vibe chilled eight degrees in an instant.

“Done, done! Just one or two games, then I’m out,” Bei Qi said hastily.

Jiang Wan thought it was hilarious. Bei Huai skipped her own homework all day, slept through class, and here she was grilling him.

With everyone knowing each other, they jumped right in—no awkwardness.

Jiang Wan stuck with Yao, Bei Huai jungled on Lan, and Bei Qi filled the marksman spot.

Poor Bei Qi was stuck solo bot, getting pressured hard. Desperate, he pinged Jiang Wan: “Sis, I can’t hold alone! Come help!”

“Maybe I should go help him first?” Jiang Wan said softly, glancing at Bei Huai.

“Do what you want. Why ask me?” Bei Huai shot back icily.

Then Jiang Wan really leaped down and dashed toward Bei Qi.

But just as she reached the bottom lane, she heard the alert that Bei Huai had been killed.

Jiang Wan: “???”

“I couldn’t take him on alone,” came the girl’s voice, soft and forlorn.

She said it calmly.

But Jiang Wan could clearly hear the hint of grievance and resentment in her words.

“Sorry, I have to go help her first.” Jiang Wan shook her head helplessly and abandoned Bei Qi.

Bei Qi: “…”

Was this a pity play? Was it?

Since when had his sister gotten so cunning?!

He shifted his view elsewhere.

There, he saw Cen Jin and Guanguan locked in a fierce skirmish in the enemy jungle.

“Come grab this blue buff,” Cen Jin called out midway through the fight.

“Aren’t you low on mana too? Don’t you want it?”

“I’m fine. You take it.”

Bei Qi: “…”

Oof.

He’d unwittingly been force-fed a double serving of dog food.

He shouldn’t have even joined. Better to have done his homework instead.

The five of them played a few more rounds. When the clock neared eleven, they finally logged off with lingering reluctance.

—Wanwan, didn’t you say you weren’t into games? So how come you stuck around for so long today?

Guanguan sent the message, gleefully teasing Jiang Wan.

Jiang Wan smiled and fired back a goofy face emoji.

She wasn’t all that interested in the game itself.

What she cared about were the people she was playing with.

Meanwhile, Cen Jin was about to hop in the shower and call it a night when she got a message from Bei Huai.

—I remember you were pretty good with Yun Zhongjun. How do you play that hero?

Cen Jin arched a brow.

Yun Zhongjun was a jungler—and more importantly, he was shipped as a couple with Yao.

—What, wanna go double-flying with your little lady?

Bei Huai froze at Cen Jin’s reply.

She set her phone down, sat there dazed for a few seconds, then buried her face in her hands in self-defeating frustration.

She really was losing it. Her mind was still replaying that offhand remark about an “old flame.”

It was nothing. All in her head.

In self-delusion, she blocked Cen Jin, pretending the question had never been asked—and neither had the answer.

Cen Jin: “???”

Bei Huai, you sneaky dog!