Chapter 8

◎So glad to have met you.◎

Xu Yan nearly got tackled to the ground. She took a step back, utterly exasperated. “Xu Yixiao!”

Xu Yixiao quickly straightened up. “Here!”

She sniffed the air. “Whoa! Is that for me?! The dessert from Xitu Lanya Restaurant? Didn’t you turn me down the first time I asked? And yet you still brought it anyway. Little Aunt, you’re the best.”

The thirteen-year-old girl chattered away like a sparrow, buzzing around Xu Yan with a nonstop stream of words before finally taking the delivery bag from her hand and scampering off.

Xu Yan had long grown accustomed to such heartless behavior.

She shook her head, slipped off her shoes in the entryway, hung up her coat neatly by the door, straightened the decorative items on the console table, and only then headed further inside.

“Have you finished your homework?” Xu Yan came to a stop beside Xu Yixiao, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor.

Sugar syrup already dribbled from the corner of Xu Yixiao’s mouth. She nodded enthusiastically, her mouth stuffed full of food and leaving her no chance to speak.

Xu Yan handed her a napkin and told her to wipe her mouth, then went back to her bedroom to change into loungewear.

Stripped of her sharp, commanding office attire, she looked simple and gentle in just a plain white cotton top.

“Aren’t you cold? Why isn’t the underfloor heating on?” she asked, eyeing Xu Yixiao’s fluffy pajamas.

Xu Yixiao mumbled, “I like wearing these. The heating makes it too hot.”

“Suit yourself.” Xu Yan wasn’t one to force the issue with kids.

Xu Yixiao grinned mischievously. She knew her little aunt’s temperament inside and out. She dove back into her food, polishing off a bowl of sweet soup, two steaming phoenix claws, and a siu mai. With her stomach somewhat filled, she endured Xu Yan’s stern gaze, wiped her mouth clean, washed her hands, and tidied the table once more before daring to ask, “Little Aunt, how’s Miracle going for you?”

Xu Yan wasn’t a gamer.

That explained why her colleagues had so confidently blurted out that comment during their group dinner.

But life’s strangest twists often came in exceptions.

And Xu Yixiao was the unexpected twist in Xu Yan’s otherwise predictable routine.

She was the daughter of Xu Yan’s older sister—a professor and a lawyer, no less—yet the girl they’d raised was pure rebellion through and through. On the cusp of junior high graduation, with entrance exams looming, she flat-out refused to go abroad with her parents. She insisted on staying in the country, taking the high school entrance exam, and seeing where things went from there.

Xu Yixiao’s grades weren’t great, and her parents didn’t approve. They were convinced she couldn’t get into a decent high school with her scores.

But Xu Yixiao argued and fussed nonstop, determined to stay.

At first, she lived in the dorms, but after barely a month, she couldn’t stand it anymore.

“I don’t like the dorms,” she’d told Xu Yan back then. “They don’t like me either. I don’t want to live with them.”

Where else could Xu Yixiao go if not back to school? Straight to Xu Yan’s place, of course.

It wasn’t until she moved in that Xu Yan discovered the girl had a bit of a gaming addiction.

Xu Yixiao begged her not to snitch to her parents. In exchange, Xu Yan laid down the law: no excessive gaming time each week.

Xu Yixiao agreed, though she looked a little put out.

Xu Yan had asked her, “Yixiao, what’s so fun about games anyway?”

Staring at a phone screen full of numbers—how could that possibly bring such joy? What Xu Yan meant was that she understood the addictive pull perfectly well: constant high-stimulation dopamine hits that made it hard to quit.

But Xu Yixiao was the kid she’d watched grow up. Sure, she had her flaws, but she wasn’t the type to spiral into full-blown gaming addiction.

Xu Yixiao started to say something, then held back. In the end, she told Xu Yan, “Little Aunt, why don’t you try it yourself?”

“If you really think gaming is totally pointless, I swear I’ll never touch another game.”

The fresh-faced girl’s expression held a determination and sincerity Xu Yan had never seen before.

Xu Yan agreed.

She believed that if she wanted to truly guide a child—or educate one—she needed to experience firsthand what the child was feeling and craving.

And so, that led to the day she bought Fade’s account, logged in, and randomly matched into Chen Yi’s game on her very first try.

Xu Yan had recognized the voice right away. Later, when she checked the surveillance footage from the conference room, everything confirmed it.

Ever since Chen Yi made her call her “wife,” Xu Yan hadn’t logged back in.

She found it offensive—and she didn’t like Chen Yi acting that way, either.

If Xu Yixiao hadn’t brought it up out of the blue today, Xu Yan might have forgotten about the game entirely.

“Little Aunt?” Xu Yixiao hadn’t expected a simple question to send her aunt into a daze. Curious, she waved her hand in front of Xu Yan’s face.

Xu Yan snapped back. “Busy.”

She added, “Haven’t played much.”

Xu Yixiao grew flustered. “But you have to play, Little Aunt!”

Xu Yan gave her a half-smile. “Xu Yixiao, why are you so worked up if I play or not?”

Xu Yixiao stammered, “I—I’m!”

She pouted. “It’s because we had a deal! Once you’ve experienced it and tell me what you think, then I can play again.”

How could she not be anxious?!

She hadn’t done any of her daily quests. Her dungeons were untouched. Her achievements were stalled, and the crops in her homeland were about to get stolen clean.

How could she not be freaking out?!

“Come on, play already, Little Aunt,” Xu Yixiao wheedled, putting on her best puppy-dog eyes.

Xu Yan relented. “Fine.”

She started to rise from the sofa.

Xu Yixiao lunged forward and hugged her waist. “Little Aunt! Right now! I want to watch you play!”

Xu Yan blinked. “……?”

Xu Yixiao faltered for a second, then puffed up with righteous indignation. “How else will I know if you’re fibbing?”

Xu Yan saw right through her. “Wanting a little vicarious thrill?”

Xu Yixiao scoffed. “If I wanted a thrill, I’d watch Vegetable Sister, not you.”

“Vegetable Sister?” Xu Yan had no idea who that was.

Xu Yixiao waved it off. “A total pro! Super awesome! Anyway, never mind her—Little Aunt, grab your phone already!”

Xu Yan let out a soft sigh, settled back down, and pulled out her phone.

Once Miracle’s loading screen and animations faded, she entered the game. Right in the upper-right corner sat a glaring mail icon.

Xu Yan had a touch of OCD. Her first move was to tap the inbox and check what was inside.

The sender’s field blazed with the ID 【Sister Don’t Hit Me】.

Before Xu Yan could even click it, Xu Yixiao let out a shriek.

“Little Aunt!!!! Who’s this?! Who’s this!!!!!”

Xu Yan’s ears nearly burst.

She scooted away a bit. “Someone I met in-game.”

Xu Yixiao gaped. “That’s a limited-edition outfit item! Holy crap! Where’d you even meet a whale like that? It’d sell for tens of thousands easy! Holy crap!”

Xu Yan frowned. “Xu Yixiao, watch your language.”

Xu Yixiao clapped a hand over her mouth. “Sorry. No more crap. Little Aunt, don’t be mad. Why’d she send you that? Open it and see!”

Xu Yan reached to tap the mail—but paused, switching out of the game instead.

“Later,” she said. “Quests first.”

In her friends list, the only name was offline.

Xu Yan ran a dungeon, let Xu Yixiao get her fix by playing on her account for a bit, then decided that was enough. She pocketed her phone and headed to her room, reminding Xu Yixiao to wash up, go to bed, and get up for school tomorrow.

Xu Yixiao nodded obediently, but her sly dark eyes tracked her little aunt’s retreating back.

Something was up.

As for Xu Yan, she entered her room, sat on the bed, took a sip of water, and only then restarted the game to open the mail.

Chen Yi had written a very long message.

She cleared up the “wife” misunderstanding, shared her own thoughts, and ended with a sincere note about how glad she was to meet the new friend Fade in-game.

Every word reminded Xu Yan of Chen Yi from years ago.

She was always like that—straightforward, sensitive, and full of passion.

Xu Yan still remembered her, but it seemed Chen Yi had forgotten.

All the better.

Xu Yan leaned against the headboard with a soft sigh, thought for a moment, returned the expensive in-game item her niece had raved about, and composed a reply: I’ve had a cold and haven’t been online. Also, I’m very glad to have met you.

~~~