“Don’t Play Holy Slash: It’s been almost a full week now. If I may ask, everyone—where are your character sheets?
“Don’t Play Holy Slash: Why is Xiao Huo the only one who’s turned hers in so far?”
Pass One Charm: Exactly, exactly.
For a good long while, no one in the group chat said a word.
Mo Xiangwen guiltily opened the XLSX file and selected “human” for the race field.
Well, at least he’d made an effort.
“Don’t Play Holy Slash: My dear retainers, why so silent?”
Pigeon: Goo goo goo.
Human-Dragon Unity: Goo goo goo.
Bai Bai: Goo goo goo.
Pass One Charm: Looks like we showed up too late. Some mysterious force has turned all our group mates into pigeons.
“Don’t Play Holy Slash: ?
“Don’t Play Holy Slash: Looks like no one wants to get moving on this. We’ll talk next time, then.”
Truth be told, before meeting Su Mengli, it had been hard for him to imagine that the commanding president from the group chat was actually a refined young lady from a good family on the other side of the screen.
He wondered if she was frowning in annoyance right now. It was tough to picture this reserved girl actually getting mad.
Well, Su Mengyao must have seen it plenty of times.
He chuckled and quickly tapped out a message on his phone to soothe her.
Human-Dragon Unity: Nooo, don’t say that! I’m on it, I’m on it.
Bai Bai: Priestess Ophelia.XLSX
Bai Bai: I was busy with other stuff earlier and forgot to upload it. Sorry.
“Don’t Play Holy Slash: Ah, Bai Bai, you’re the reliable one.
“Don’t Play Holy Slash: @Human-Dragon Unity, @Pigeon—what’s your deal, you two?
Pigeon: I got to school but haven’t bought a new computer yet.
Human-Dragon Unity: Same here, same here.
“Don’t Play Holy Slash: @Human-Dragon Unity—really? Mind if I drop by your dorm tomorrow for a visit?
Damn, how did things escalate to meeting up IRL so fast?
Worst of all, things weren’t like before. If Su Mengli decided to swallow her pride and show up at his dorm building, sweet-talk the dorm auntie, and drop his name, she could actually make an IRL meet-up happen.
Human-Dragon Unity: Sorry, my bad, total mistake.
Human-Dragon Unity: I swear to you, I’ll get it done tonight.
“Lao Mo, what are you doing? What’s got you grinning like an idiot?”
Zhong Taihong, pinned to the ground by Xi Shaojie, caught sight of his expression and quickly tried to redirect the heat: “Chatting up some cute girl again, huh? That’s why you’re so happy.”
Xi Shaojie paused, his grip loosening on the hold. He shot Zhong Taihong a suspicious look.
Damn, why’d you believe him right away?
Mo Xiangwen’s heart skipped a beat, but he feigned calm with a sigh.
“Sigh, Lao Zhong, if you’ve got a girlfriend, just say so. Why hide it from your bros?”
Xi Shaojie furrowed his brow, then nodded in agreement before turning his gaze back to Zhong Taihong.
Zhong Taihong jolted in alarm and pressed on: “Then what’s this about you sneaking off to eat with two beauties behind our backs, Lao Mo?”
Mo Xiangwen froze. Holy crap, it hadn’t even been that long since dinner, and word had already gotten around.
He eyed the other two suspiciously and noticed their expressions were off too.
Qin Yongfeng was manageable—just looked a bit embarrassed.
But why was Xi Shaojie twisting up with envy just like Zhong Taihong?
No way all three of them had tailed him together?
That explained the bloodthirsty vibe the moment they burst in—the Truth or Dare, the constant girlfriend jabs.
No, he couldn’t overreact now. The more defensive he got, the guiltier he’d look.
“They’re just regular friends. I owed them a favor, so I had to treat them to dinner. And right after, didn’t I come straight back to game with you guys?”
Mo Xiangwen shrugged. “Look, I even had time to grab you all some juice. If it was you, Lao Zhong, out with your girlfriend—think you’d make it back this quick?”
“I think Lao Mo’s got a point,” Qin Yongfeng chimed in from the side. “Besides, he’s always gaming with us. When he’s alone, he’s either watching anime or playing galgames.
“I’ve never even seen him on long phone calls. Who dates like that?”
The unexpected backup surprised him. He glanced at Qin Yongfeng, who raised his juice cup in a toast.
Well played—that juice was worth it.
“Speaking of phone sweet-talking, Lao Zhong, don’t you head out to the balcony for calls an awful lot?” Mo Xiangwen shook his head in mock disappointment. “Hiding from your bros is one thing, but putting on that whole tragic loner act to tug at our heartstrings?”
Xi Shaojie blinked, then dove back into the fray with Zhong Taihong without a second thought.
This time, no amount of explaining or fire-redirecting from Zhong Taihong helped.
What was worse than a traitor? A guy who led the charge accusing others of betrayal, only to be the real traitor himself.
The thought even ticked Mo Xiangwen off a little. He slipped over in the chaos and snuck in a kick to Zhong Taihong’s side.
Back at his spot, he was about to finalize and submit his own sheet when he saw a private message from Pigeon.
Pigeon: Whip up a sheet for me.
Human-Dragon Unity: Sure thing.
Pigeon: I’ll send you the backstory later. Just fill in the rest for me.
Human-Dragon Unity: Got it, no problem.
How hard could it be to whip up a Holy Slash sheet? Just fill it out quick.
Race? When in doubt, go human.
That had always been the most reliable choice in their DND games.
Not the strongest, but it always worked.
His own sheet was a straightforward fighter—nothing fancy to say about it.
Soon, Pigeon sent over her backstory.
He plugged it into her sheet, then uploaded both to the group chat to save time.
“Don’t Play Holy Slash: Got ’em.
“Don’t Play Holy Slash: If you could whip these up this fast, why not do it from the start instead of making me chase you down?
“Don’t Play Holy Slash: Xiao Yi, why’d you submit two sheets for different classes?
Human-Dragon Unity: One’s for Pigeon. She doesn’t have a computer, so I did it for her.
Pigeon: Yep yep, chief. I had Xiao Yi fill it out for me, but I wrote the backstory myself.
“Don’t Play Holy Slash: If you wrote the backstory yourself, then fine, I guess.
Pigeon: @Human-Dragon Unity—thanks!
Human-Dragon Unity: No sweat. Just WeChat Pay / Alipay me 50 next Thursday.
Pigeon: ? Don’t get it, but sure.
Human-Dragon Unity: You don’t get it but you’re cool with it?
Pigeon: What’s the worst you can do? If it’s a scam, I’ll just back out.
Human-Dragon Unity: Nah, it’s not really scamming you.
Pigeon: Then what’s it mean?
Human-Dragon Unity: Hit me with fifty bucks on Thursday. Treat me to some Kaifeng dishes.
Pigeon: Oh? That’s it? Thought it was something huge.
Human-Dragon Unity: Never mind, just kidding.
Human-Dragon Unity: But seriously, dinner with the president and the others today was a blast. Hope we can all meet up sometime—you, me, Bai Bai too—for a meal.
Bai Bai: Waaah, I’m so jealous!
Pigeon: Looking forward to it?
Human-Dragon Unity: Totally.
From behind him came another wail from Zhong Taihong, followed by Xi Shaojie’s furious interrogation.
Xi Shaojie clearly had a grudge against this pot-calling-the-kettle-black traitor.
Ah, that was the ugly side of sneaking around with impure guy-girl relations.
Not like him—his friendships were all aboveboard and pure.
No wonder they said: walk tall and sit straight.
People just had to… Huh? Phone. From Old Dad?
Mo Xiangwen pulled out his phone and stepped onto the balcony to answer.
“Hey, Xiangwen. How’s school treating you?”
It had been a while since he’d heard from Old Dad, but the man still sounded full of vigor.
“Yeah, the campus is pretty nice. I got here two days early, but classes start soon anyway.”
“Good to hear. Got enough money? If not, I’ll hit the bank tomorrow and deposit some for you.”
“No need, Old Dad. I told you, what I earn covers me now.”
Sure, the royalties from Junior Sister Raising Plan wouldn’t hit till next month, but he’d held onto half his enrollment scholarships after sending some home.
That would last him not just till then, but the whole semester.
Besides, it wasn’t all outflow.
Overload Mode was handy for studying, but great for writing too.
Not some creation-from-nothing superpower, but the efficiency boost already thrilled him.
Before, squeezing out four thousand words a day took everything he had. Now, with Overload, ten thousand was a breeze.
If he wanted, he could even run a side account and crank out another book on the sly.
Once he picked up some coding skills, he might even go full indie like those one-man-studio bigshots making their own games.
“Alright then. If you run short, just tell the family.”
“Got it, don’t worry.” Mo Xiangwen smiled. “If I need anything, I’ll hit you guys up.”
“Oh, right—one more thing.”
“Yeah, what is it?”
Old Dad on the other end seemed to hesitate, but his wife’s urging in the background pushed him to speak.
“Remember to find yourself a girlfriend in college, or I won’t be able to hold my head up around the relatives.”
Good grief, so this was the real point of your call tonight, huh?
“Hey, Dad, tell Mom that a student’s time should be focused on studies. Wasn’t that what you always told me?”
“Your mom says she doesn’t want to bother reasoning with you anymore. You’ve grown your wings, and she can’t win arguments against you. Just remember to bring a girlfriend home someday.”
“Oh, and your mom was complaining that you never reply to the messages she sends on WeChat. Make sure you get back to her later.”
With that, the call abruptly ended.
What did he mean by “bring a girlfriend home”? Like he could just snap his fingers and find one?
Bringing her home implied they’d already reached a certain stage. Did his parents think things worked the same way as they used to?
As for WeChat, yeah, he had killed it in the background because it was such a battery hog.
Back when he was working, it had been on twenty-four-seven, driving him up the wall. He just couldn’t stand the app anymore.
Anyway, he wasn’t a wage slave these days. He could probably get by without WeChat, right?
Still, he’d forgotten that his parents might message him there. He hadn’t expected them to pick up these apps.
Might as well reply to them now.
Mo Xiangwen opened WeChat and sent a quick response to his parents. That’s when he noticed another red notification waiting for him, separate from their messages.
The profile picture was an adorable white lion kitten, and the message was from her.
Including his parents, he only had three contacts on WeChat total. This had to be Yan Nuoya—the friend he’d added at the scenic spot to make splitting the bill easier.
What in the world could Yan Nuoya want with him?
From the outside, the message preview just showed an emoji. He’d have to tap in to see it.
There were four messages in total: two from yesterday afternoon and two from this afternoon.
Yesterday’s pair and today’s were almost identical. The first read, “Want to grab dinner together?” followed by a Cat Cat emoji.
If there was any difference, it was that today’s Cat Cat emoji looked a little glum compared to yesterday’s.
…Today, Yan Nuoya had mentioned plans with friends. She probably hadn’t meant him, right?
Logically speaking, he hadn’t even seen the messages or agreed, so it hardly counted as a proper plan.
…Whatever. For now, he’d apologize for missing them and figure out later whether the invite had been for him.
Mo Xiangwen let out a soft sigh in his heart. He was mulling over how to explain when he turned around and found Zhong Taihong and Xi Shaojie glaring at him with unfriendly expressions.
“What are these two up to now?” Mo Xiangwen asked Qin Yongfeng—the only one who seemed normal—while giving them a baffled look.
Qin Yongfeng shot the pair a speechless glance. “We were just talking about sweet-talking your girlfriend on the phone, and they figured that’s what you were doing.”
“You two are something else. Am I really that suspicious?” Mo Xiangwen gave them an exasperated look and sighed.
“It’s still pretty suspicious. After all, you snuck off tonight to eat with two beauties,” Xi Shaojie said matter-of-factly.
“Lao Zhong’s done confessing, so now you’ve got time for me?”
“Not yet, but Lao Zhong said we’ve got a great enemy at the gates, so truce for now.”
“Goddamn ‘great enemy,’ Lao Zhong. What were you even thinking?” Mo Xiangwen turned to him.
“Sigh. It’s like you going out to eat with those beauties. I just have my suspicions about you,” Zhong Taihong said with a sigh.
Mo Xiangwen paused before emphasizing, “I already told you—they’re friends.”
“Heh.”
“Heh.”
Fine. Clearly, neither of them bought it.
“How about a bet? I haven’t had a chance to change the contact name in my phone yet, have I?”
At the mention of a bet, Xi Shaojie looked hesitant.
“He’s just trying to scare you.” Zhong Taihong patted Xi Shaojie on the back, then asked, “What’re we betting?”
“If that call really was with my family, then this week’s takeout… and next week’s…” Mo Xiangwen said meaningfully.
“I’ll cover it,” Zhong Taihong said, thumping his chest. “But if you were chatting with some girl…”
“Then I’ll cover,” Mo Xiangwen said with a chuckle.
“Deal.”
“And as for you, Lao Xi—if the lots for pickup fall to me these next two weeks, how about you grab them for me?”
Xi Shaojie hesitated, on the verge of refusing, when Zhong Taihong gave him another pat.
“Fine. If we lose, I’ll get them.”
With both of them hooked, Mo Xiangwen pulled up his call history. The most recent entry was prominently labeled “Old Dad.”
Not only that, but the ones before it were either “Old Dad” or “Old Mom.”
Zhong Taihong and Xi Shaojie exchanged glances, at a loss for words.
“Gonna pay up?”
“Yeah, yeah. Damn it, Lao Zhong—I’m coming for you.”
“Whoa, bro—no need. Bro was wrong.”
Mo Xiangwen felt an inexplicable twinge of guilt but forced himself to stay calm. He shook his head, let out an exaggerated sigh for effect, then slipped past them back to his seat.
He spent ages thinking it over before finally typing out a line on his phone and hitting send.
“Sorry, I didn’t see it.”
The reply came almost instantly.
“No worries. Next time, together then.”
