It had been five years since Ash had last logged on.
Suddenly, a post appeared on the forum.
The moment it was posted, it quickly rose to the top of the homepage. Despite its brevity and lack of embellishment, these few words sparked a flurry of enthusiastic replies from netizens:
1L: [Holy crap, it’s been five years already?]
2L: [Time flies.]
3L: [Five-year-old fan here, crying. I still don’t know what Ash looks like in real life.]
4L: [Great god, we miss you [tears][tears]]
5L: [Old player here, ever since Ash quit, ‘Glory’ hasn’t been as exciting and glorious as before.]
…
‘Glory’ was the hottest game at the moment. It had been the main event in various esports tournaments for eight years, maintaining its popularity and firmly holding the top spot.
Jing Mian scrolled through the post, and the replies were mostly the same.
Some shared recordings of Ash’s brilliant gameplay, some sighed, some cried, and even some die-hard fans were still waiting for the great god to return, willing to have their boyfriends eat vegetarian for thirty years.
Jing Mian pressed his lips together, his finger continuing to scroll, lost in thought.
…
196L: [By the way, does anyone know where Ash’s Shadow Guard went?]
This post quickly drew a flood of replies:
201L: [Bro, did you just get internet access in the village? Ash’s Shadow Guard already has an owner.]
202L: [Yeah! Just a year ago, a new streamer got it.]
204L: [If I remember correctly, that streamer’s name is… Jing Mian?]
“…”
Jing Mian’s heart skipped a beat at the sudden mention, his fingers pausing.
It seemed like a trigger had been pulled, and the floodgates of replies opened, as if to say, “If you start talking about this, I won’t be sleepy anymore.”
206L: [Jing Mian? The streamer who never shows his face?!]
207L: [Yeah, that’s our MianMian.]
210L: [I know this one! Jing Mian is a streamer who became popular this year. He always wears a hoodie and a mask during live streams, only showing his eyes. I’m so curious about what MianMian looks like [bangs table]]
211L: [Is it that serious? There are plenty of streamers who don’t show their faces.]
215L: [Check the pictures [image][image]]
216L: […]
217L: […]
218L: [Holy crap, those eyes… They’re so damn beautiful.]
219L: [I’m in love.]
226L: [Old fan here, MianMian’s voice is super nice, his skills are solid, and he streams on time. I want to tie him up in a dark room and watch his streams every day.]
…
Suddenly caught in the storm of the topic, Jing Mian pressed his lips together, his ears tinged with a blush. He hesitated for a moment, then reached out to close the forum.
The light from the screen gradually faded from the young man’s face.
…
Yes, Jing Mian was a game streamer.
Though he kept a low profile, he had accumulated a fair number of fans over the past year thanks to his skills. But the most outrageous thing he had done… was to get his hands on Ash’s Shadow Guard.
‘Shadow Guard’—in simple terms, was a unique feature of the game ‘Radiance.’
When a veteran player retired, their character didn’t just fade away. Instead, it was recycled and transformed by the system into a powerful ‘ghost’ that was almost identical, to be fought over by players in rounds of PK, ultimately becoming their personal Shadow Guard.
In simpler terms…
Like a knight.
Who wouldn’t want the legendary Ash to be their personal bodyguard?
Jing Mian held his pen, staring at the half-completed calculus test on his desk, lost in thought.
He didn’t even notice when his father opened the door, holding a cup of warm milk, and watched him for a while.
“MianMian, do you still play games?”
The slightly deep voice came from the doorway, and Jing Mian’s pen paused as he was writing a complex formula.
This sudden question was indeed confusing.
But his father quickly explained, reminding him:
“You’re getting married, don’t let the other party think you’re a slacker.”
Jing Mian was taken aback for a moment, then he smiled, “No, Dad.”
“Games only slow down my studying.”
“…”
Jing Guozhen nodded.
His son’s sweet smile seemed to reassure him. He put down the milk, told him not to overwork, and then closed the door.
His father had once scolded him severely for playing games. The older generation believed that esports and games were detrimental to normal learning and life, and he, Jing Guozhen, would never allow his son to be addicted to such things.
“…” Jing Mian twirled his pen, staring at the clock on the wall, lost in thought.
The second hand moved quickly.
Two hours later.
Jing Mian put down his pen, the three sets of test papers neatly stacked together. He glanced at the time, 4:40 PM.
—It was time to go.
Jing Mian quickly changed into his clothes, put on his hoodie, and went to the entrance to put on his shoes, his movements smooth and fluid.
However, before he could put on the second shoe, a small hand suddenly grabbed the hem of his shirt.
Looking down, he saw a cute little boy with slightly curly hair, looking at him with sleepy eyes and whispering, “Brother.”
“Can you take me to where you’re going?”
Jing Mian paused, then picked up the little ball of fluff, kissed Jing Luo’s cheek, and said gently, “No.”
Jing Luo: “…”
“On the day I meet the family, I’ll bring him back, okay?”
Jing Luo was stunned for a moment, then puffed out his cheeks, his pale face quickly turning red with anger.
So he was going to meet his sister-in-law!?
The rain in Lincheng had been drizzling for two or three days, the glass windows fogged up, reflecting the city’s streets.
It was nearly five o’clock, and the sky was darkening.
Jing Mian, wearing a blue hoodie, looked thin, his white shirt clinging to his neck, a small piece of collar damp with water droplets.
The temperature seemed to have dropped sharply, even his lips were tinged with mist, turning redder with each slightly trembling breath.
—The most striking feature was his beautiful, almost mesmerizing eyes.
Jing Mian didn’t linger for long, as time was pressing.
As soon as he stepped out of the house, he hailed a taxi, which quickly started moving.
After a drowsy day, Jing Mian was truly nervous now.
The person he was about to meet was the arranged marriage partner chosen by his family.
The meeting was scheduled for six o’clock.
And the most important point… the other party was also a man.
In today’s society, same-sex marriage was legal, and even children could be conceived through technology, which was not unusual. But Jing Mian, who had always followed the rules, still felt a bit unreal about it.
Jing Mian sighed lightly, watching the street scenes pass by the window. On a whim, he took out his phone and logged back into the forum.
Sure enough, the post was still at the top of the hot list, with over a thousand replies.
Returning to the floor where he had left off, Jing Mian scrolled down and found that the topic had become more speculative, with some people analyzing why Ash had quit and what his real-life profession and identity might be.
1226L: [I suspect Ash got married, so he stopped playing.]
1227L: [+1, everyone’s guessing too much. Many veteran players quit because they got married and had kids, right?]
1230L: [Sigh, I’m so jealous. Who’s the lucky person who got to marry Ash?]
…
The topic gradually shifted to “marriage.”
A few players started new threads, sharing their love stories in ‘Glory’ and showing off their happiness.
One post caught Jing Mian’s attention:
—[Turns out everyone is in an online relationship? Only I’m marrying my childhood friend.]
Clicking into the main post, the OP vividly narrated her love story with her childhood friend. They had been apart for two years, but a chance encounter in adulthood brought them back together, and now they have a three-year-old child.
This made the netizens envious, and they showered the OP with blessings, wishing her 999.
Jing Mian’s heart started beating faster for no apparent reason.
He cautiously typed:
[What should I pay attention to when meeting a childhood friend I haven’t seen in over ten years?]
After leaving the comment, he thought it might sink into the sea of replies, but surprisingly, the OP quickly responded:
[That’s a long time. Is the other person good-looking?]
Jing Mian thought for a moment and answered objectively:
[Very pretty when we were young.]
OP: [Then it’s settled. You can compliment her on how she looks just like when she was young. Be a gentleman and don’t be stingy with conversation! Avoid being cold, after all, you’re childhood friends.]
Jing Mian stared at the word ‘her’ for a moment but didn’t deny it:
[Okay, thank you. I’ll remember that.]
The OP, charmed by his politeness, continued:
OP: [Also, don’t rush into pursuing her.]
OP: [This is your first meeting, relationships need to develop gradually.]
“…”
This time, it was Jing Mian’s turn to be silent.
This gradual development… well, although they were getting married soon, at least they hadn’t had a child before marriage. Does that count as gradual?
Jing Mian sighed quietly, realizing this marriage was far more absurd than it seemed.
Despite that, he didn’t feel any resistance deep down.
There was even a hint of anticipation.
After all, his marriage partner was none other than his childhood friend.
In his memory, that fair and beautiful boy, gentle and handsome, was the perfect neighbor’s big brother type, so warm and kind.
Marrying such a perfect and gentle big brother,
Jing Mian couldn’t think of any reason to refuse.
So even after so many years, he still remembered the other person’s name clearly.
“Ren Xingwan.”
Jing Mian murmured softly, sitting in the passenger seat.
When he was younger, he had never called Ren Xingwan by his name… always just ‘Brother.’
Feeling a bit embarrassed, Jing Mian propped his chin up, gazing out the window, trying to erase those embarrassing memories from his mind.
The taxi slowly entered the main road.
Not far away was a bridge, and in the distance, the congested and slow-moving traffic could be faintly seen. The driver turned the steering wheel, changed lanes, and sighed, “Damn… traffic again?”
“Comrade, this road is always congested, especially during rush hour. You might as well get out here. It’s just two hundred meters to the restaurant you mentioned.”
Jing Mian glanced out the window, noticing the rain had lessened to a light drizzle, a good time to get out.
So, he decisively paid and got out, not even bothering with an umbrella.
He quickly put on his hoodie and followed the navigation to a large, bustling building.
“…”
Jing Mian looked up, his pupils slightly narrowing.
Actually, he didn’t need the navigation anymore.
Such a luxurious and towering building standing in the center of the commercial district would catch the eye of any passerby from hundreds of meters away.
To choose such a high-end place for the meeting…
Jing Mian’s Adam’s apple moved.
The young man, feeling the immense pressure, slowly entered the main hall, only to find the waiters standing straight and respectfully, bowing to him, “Welcome, sir.”
Jing Mian was surprised.
The lead waiter in a deep blue uniform stepped forward and politely said, “Jing Mian, Mr. Jing?”
Jing Mian: “Yes.”
Waiter: “The restaurant is on the top floor, please follow me.”
Jing Mian followed, completely unprepared for this grand reception. He asked quietly, “Is everyone led up like this?”
The waiter couldn’t help but chuckle, “No, Mr. Ren has booked the entire venue.”
Jing Mian: “…”
It’s not necessary.
Really, it’s not necessary.
They weren’t complete strangers meeting for the first time. The grandeur for childhood friends… really wasn’t necessary!
Jing Mian followed the waiter to the elevator, where he found someone else waiting. Wanting to keep a low profile, he nodded slightly, “Thank you, no need to see me up, you can go.”
The waiter didn’t insist, saying, “Enjoy your meal.”
The man waiting for the elevator heard this and couldn’t help but laugh, “These waiters are usually so lazy, why are they so enthusiastic today?”
Jing Mian was taken aback, not knowing how to respond, so he shook his head, “It’s my first time here.”
Perhaps his voice caught the other person’s attention, and the man stopped talking, his gaze seemingly landing on Jing Mian.
—A few seconds later, the elevator doors opened.
Just as he was about to step in, to his surprise, a tall man was standing in the elevator.
Despite being on the ground floor, he showed no signs of leaving. Jing Mian and the man beside him were a bit puzzled but entered the elevator hesitantly.
Jing Mian stood still.
Though he didn’t look closely, he couldn’t help but recall the moment the elevator doors opened, and their gazes seemed to meet unexpectedly.
The man was tall, with a prominent and superior nose, and long lashes.
He wore a dark ink-colored shirt that covered his collarbone, elegant and restrained, without a jacket. His sharp and smooth leg contours were outlined by the long pants. His thin lips were slightly pursed, and even without speaking, a cold and intimidating aura slowly emanated from him.
Beautiful to such an extent, he was a presence that could not be ignored wherever he stood.
And… he seemed strangely familiar?
Jing Mian searched his mind but found no answer, only recalling a certain celebrity.
However, before Jing Mian could delve deeper, a voice suddenly came from beside him:
“Are you Jing Mian?”
Jing Mian’s heart skipped a beat.
The words, in the enclosed and quiet environment, sounded unusually abrupt, catching him off guard.
The speaker was the man he had chatted with at the elevator entrance.
He seemed eager to confirm, asking, “The streamer from Qingfeng District with the ID ‘Sheep,’ right?”
Jing Mian felt a storm brewing in his mind.
This, to be recognized so easily?
Before his real name was leaked, he had always used the ID ‘Sheep,’ and only his loyal fans would know this.
Being recognized in real life for the first time. Jing Mian was surprised but quickly regained his composure, denying, “Sorry, I’m not a streamer, you must have mistaken me.”
“No, I’m sure it’s you.”
The man seemed to barely contain his excitement, taking a deep breath and explaining, “It might sound exaggerated, but I’ve been following you since your first live stream.”
To prove his point, he opened his phone’s photo album, where screenshots and recordings filled the screen, from the first time Jing Mian streamed to the latest one from yesterday.
Each image was of Jing Mian.
The man’s excitement was evident, “I haven’t missed a single one. Your voice, your eyes, I would never mistake you.”
Jing Mian: “…”
Do people usually take thousands of screenshots of live streams?
And for two years?
Brother… isn’t that a bit too obsessed?
Jing Mian swallowed, “If you want an autograph…”
“Can I add you on WeChat?”
Interrupted mid-sentence, Jing Mian was startled. The man had already lowered his gaze, entering the QR code scanning interface, and moved closer to the young man, “I’m the eldest son of the Huaren Group’s CEO. We can get to know each other slowly. I know you don’t have a boyfriend, I can wait…”
As he spoke, a hand was about to rest on Jing Mian’s shoulder.
But in the next second,
—“Snap.”
The man’s hand was suddenly pushed away, the sound crisp and clear in the narrow, enclosed space.
At that moment, Jing Mian felt a slight weight on his head. The brim of the cap was pulled down, instantly covering most of his face.
“…!”
Jing Mian’s heart skipped a beat.
He realized that the tall man standing beside him, who had been silent all along, had put a black baseball cap on him.
And without him noticing, he had been forcefully shielded to the side, with not a single hair visible from the other man’s angle.
Jing Mian’s eyelashes trembled.
His heart pounded uncontrollably, for no apparent reason.
The voice close by was magnetic and deep, unfamiliar yet chillingly cold, with a tone that was indifferent and casual, like a cold wave piercing through the fog:
“Did you let him touch you?”