“What a coincidence,” Lin Cheng said, winking at her.
“Why are you here?” Lu Xiaoxiao’s eyes flashed with immediate wariness.
A flurry of suspicions raced through her mind in an instant, but Lin Cheng merely looked innocent as he explained, “I came out to deposit some money, then wanted to find a place to game. It’s Saturday, so all the regular spots at the internet cafe were packed. The only open spot was this private room, but the counter said a girl had booked it. I figured I’d come ask if we could share…”
“No,” Lu Xiaoxiao said, her face turning cold in an instant.
Lin Cheng could understand her reaction. Most people with mental health issues didn’t want to see their therapist after recovery—they represented a firsthand witness to all the vulnerability and shame.
“But I’ve already paid. They even swiped my ID to set it up.” Lin Cheng blinked innocently. “I just want to play some games.”
Lu Xiaoxiao stared into his guileless eyes, and suddenly, that night came rushing back. This man had looked at her with the same innocent adoration back then, offering unwavering support and praise for every decision she made. It had left her dazed, and before she knew it, she’d drunk far too much. Then she’d hopped on his motorcycle and gone home with him.
Those unwelcome memories bubbled up in her mind. She desperately wanted to shake her head and fling them away, pretending nothing had ever happened. But yesterday, she’d inexplicably kept thinking about this strange man—those deep, dark eyes of his. For a fleeting moment, she’d glimpsed the heavy mist lurking within them, all his secrets shrouded there.
Lu Xiaoxiao wanted to stand up, but she had no idea where to go next.
Her mom was off work today, too, which was a nightmare. She didn’t want to get dragged into one of those heart-to-hearts; she rejected her mother’s logic outright and despised the fake praise from folks in the Alliance. So she’d wandered out aimlessly. Shopping was exhausting, and she didn’t know what else to do, so she’d grabbed her ID and come to the internet cafe. Who could’ve guessed she’d run into him here?
Though… this did seem to be the net cafe near his place. Lu Xiaoxiao distinctly remembered picking one at random while wandering the city, and somehow ending up here.
She’d always been a bit directionally challenged.
“Running into each other must mean something, right? I game quietly—I won’t bother you,” Lin Cheng said, his innocent expression utterly natural.
Lu Xiaoxiao took a deep breath. “Do whatever.”
She slipped her headphones back on. The previous match had just ended in a team fight wipeout and defeat. She queued up for the next one. Lin Cheng quietly glanced at her ID. Seeing the ten-minute queue time, he pegged it as a Master’s account from some rural server—those queues were a breeze. He hopped into his gaming booster group’s chat and @-everyone’d for a loaner account.
It was his little crew of gaming buddies and boosters. They’d swap accounts or share lucrative gigs. These past few years, he’d been a total shut-in gamer, grinding solo queues or boosting for fun to flex his talent when boredom struck.
Two minutes later, he had an account. Best not to type in passwords at a cafe, so his buddy logged it in via QR scan. Lin Cheng snuck another peek at Lu Xiaoxiao’s screen—she was playing ADC—so he locked in Support. Ten minutes passed, and both their games popped the accept prompt at the same time.
Once loaded in, Lin Cheng stole another glance. She’d queued into his lobby—on the enemy team.
Thresh master incoming!
Lin Cheng was a gaming pro. After retiring, he’d had endless time to grind at home. Every hook he landed, he’d sneak a peek at Lu Xiaoxiao. She furrowed her brow slightly, clearly frustrated.
Once, twice, three times.
Twenty-five minutes in, he checked her score: 0/10. Not bad mentality on her, he thought—not some spoiled princess. She’d played seriously the whole match, but they still lost. For the entire half-hour, Lu Xiaoxiao hadn’t so much as glanced back at him, acting like he didn’t exist. In the brief lull after the game ended, she suddenly turned to look at his screen.
“…You?!” Lu Xiaoxiao took a deep breath.
“What a coincidence,” Lin Cheng said, blinking innocently again.
Lu Xiaoxiao wasn’t buying his “coincidence” line. The world didn’t have that many flukes. She shot him a cold look. “Boring.”
It was the ultimate burn—staring him down with icy indifference, making his smugness look like a clown’s pathetic antics. But she’d clearly underestimated the thickness of Lin Cheng’s skin. “I just borrowed the account hoping for a chance to team up with you…”
Lu Xiaoxiao took a deep breath.
“Wanna duo?” Lin Cheng asked, looking at her. “We’re clearly fated, after all.”
“Karmic debt,” she spat through gritted teeth.
“A karmic debt’s still fate.” Lin Cheng grinned. “Got an alt?”
“No.”
“I’ll scan you one. Let’s queue a couple games together. I’m a main Support.”
“I’m a main Mid Laner.”
“Scratch that—I’m a main Jungler. Our mid-jungle synergy will absolutely shred them.” Lin Cheng grinned at Lu Xiaoxiao.
She had the distinct feeling this guy was like chewing gum now—stuck to her and impossible to shake. It left her inexplicably irritated. She was about to snap, but then she saw the smile tugging at his lips, and the rising flame in her chest inexplicably fizzled out.
How strange.
He just seemed like a bratty kid.
“Scan it over,” Lu Xiaoxiao said coolly.
Lin Cheng happily scanned her a Platinum account, logged into another for himself, and invited her to duo. She picked ADC again; he went Support. They took bot lane.
Lin Cheng’s chatter was nonstop.
It was a habit from his boosting days—not for the cash, but to practice chatting up girls. Most girls hiring boosters hated silent ones, so he’d honed his rambling to keep things lively. Plenty of those clients were princess types; without the sweet talk, they’d give zero stars.
Games were the world’s greatest invention—the cheapest entertainment that delivered endless joy. It was one big reason Lin Cheng still loved the world.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered.”
“I’m here—hook landed, we can take the kill.”
“Nice, nice—your reflexes are insane.”
“You’re a real pro. I thought you were some booster Master’s account at first. First time seeing a girl this cracked.”
“Damn, Xiaoxiao’s positioning.”
He kept up the one-man comedy routine the whole time. Lu Xiaoxiao barely managed a “mm” here and there. She just wanted to see how long it would take for her frosty disdain to make him bored or humiliated.
But once again, she underestimated him.
They played for three hours, and he kept up the nonstop banter without tiring. The games were a blast, and Lu Xiaoxiao felt her inner turmoil ease quite a bit. She finally started responding. “You’re pretty good yourself.”
“Gotta be, holing up at home gaming every day.”
They finally fell into some real back-and-forth. After two more hours, Lu Xiaoxiao leaned back in her chair, staring at the screen. Both loaner accounts he’d scanned had climbed to Diamond. She was finally worn out, a weary satisfaction settling in.
“Add my WeChat—I’ll transfer the cash.”
“Cash?” Lu Xiaoxiao blinked.
“These are booster gigs. One-twenty each, and you carried one, so sixty-forty split—your cut’s one-twenty.”
Her eyes narrowed. His tone was casual, but she’d seen through the ploy. The money was secondary; adding WeChat was the real goal. Her lips curved slightly. “Nah, keep it.”
She didn’t look straight at him, but she snuck a sidelong glance, hoping to catch a flicker of disappointment, regret, or frustration on his face. To her surprise, Lin Cheng’s eyes lit up instead.
“Thanks—you’re a goddess. I’ve got something to handle, so I’ll head out. If fate brings us together again, let’s game.” He stood, opening the room door. A flash of bewilderment crossed Lu Xiaoxiao’s eyes. Had she just overthought the whole thing?
Playing hard to get—it had to be. She took a deep breath… but he was already leaving, and the frustration finally made her speak. “Heading home?”
“Nah, work.”
“Work?” Lu Xiaoxiao paused, then caught his suggestive smile and suddenly got it.
If she remembered right, his “job” was… being a pretty boy.
“Gotcha.” She nodded.
“Cool. Oh, right—what’s your surname again?” Lin Cheng asked curiously.
He swore it was pure curiosity—no disrespect. He’d just plain forgotten.
“Lu.”
A nameless fury surged in Lu Xiaoxiao’s chest. Lin Cheng sensed trouble. “Got it. See you around if fate allows.”
With that, he quickened his pace and left the room.
Lu Xiaoxiao watched his back vanish from sight, staring blankly for several seconds.
Why did she feel like she’d just been played?
As Lin Cheng stepped out of the internet cafe, his mind was still lingering.
On Lu Xiaoxiao’s black thigh-high stockings.
She was rocking the JK uniform again today: black top, light purple pleated skirt, and those thigh-highs hugging her slender calves. Total 2D otaku vibe—sexy as hell. The glimpse of pale, tender skin where the stockings met the skirt hem looked soft and jiggly, like jelly.
Of course, he wouldn’t say anything creepy like “can I touch?” to her. Cheesy pickup lines were only for close friends; otherwise, you’d come off like a sleazy middle-aged creep.
After an afternoon of gaming, he was starving.
Lin Cheng grabbed yellow braised chicken rice from a roadside stall, then headed to his gig spot.
He did have work—a local bar sometimes needed a last-minute sub for their resident singer. Two hundred for the night, and he actually liked the vibe there. Watching peers his age drink and goof off made him happy too.
It was a peaceful era, after all.
