The bodyguards exchanged glances, an unspoken silence falling among them.
Jing Mian noticed the subtle shift in atmosphere, his fingertips turning cold and throat tightening as he asked, “…Do I need to pay?”
“……”
The bodyguards suppressed their smiles: “We don’t charge fees, Mr. Jing.”
One of the suited men bowed slightly in respect: “You’re certainly welcome to contact your husband. We’ll wait outside.”
Jing Mian nodded.
He wanted to say they didn’t need to wait for him – wouldn’t it be better if they just left?
But finding himself outnumbered, Jing Mian couldn’t bring himself to voice it.
As the café emptied, under the curious gazes of remaining customers, Jing Mian picked up his phone. Lowering his eyes, he found that familiar pinned contact and dialed.
“Beep—”
“Beep—”
The waiting tone lasted only twice before being interrupted.
Mr. Ren’s voice came through the receiver instead.
……
“MianMian?”
Hearing the man’s familiar voice, Jing Mian’s heart skipped a beat as he quickly responded: “Husband.”
Strangely enough,
though he’d only been away for six days,
it felt like he’d been alone for a very, very long time.
Words caught in his throat as Jing Mian struggled to summarize the current situation – from being invited to meet at the café, to discovering the other party’s fake identity, and now these black-suited men sent by Ash.
After a long pause, Jing Mian spoke softly: “Husband, could you send someone to pick me up?”
Sensing the brief silence on the other end, the man asked: “What’s wrong?”
Hesitating, Jing Mian didn’t explain the truth: “I’m outside and can’t get a taxi.”
Fortunately, Mr. Ren didn’t press further: “I’ll have Yu Nian pick you up.”
“Okay.”
Jing Mian exhaled in relief, feeling instantly more settled: “I’ll send him the address.”
Yet Mr. Ren hadn’t asked why he was out at this hour, where he’d been, or why he wasn’t home yet.
Jing Mian thought perhaps his husband didn’t care about his schedule or what he did at any given time.
Mr. Ren asked: “Are your hands cold?”
Jing Mian paused.
It took him a moment to understand.
His husband probably imagined him standing roadside, embraced by winter’s chill.
“No.” Jing Mian said: “I’m inside the café.”
Perhaps because the café’s heating was strong, not just his hands and feet but even his chest felt warm.
Looking up, Jing Mian’s gaze met the bodyguards outside – their shoulders stiff from cold, breath visible in the air.
Jing Mian felt conflicted.
Eventually, he first put down the call with Mr. Ren and invited the waiting men inside: “Come in first, it’s cold outside.”
He ordered steaming coffee and some desserts for them.
The bodyguards waved their hands, flustered: “M-Mr. Jing, this really isn’t necessary…”
“Thank you for helping me.” Jing Mian’s gentle voice continued: “But you don’t need to wait for me.”
“Someone’s already taking me home.”
The bodyguards: “……”
Why did it feel like… they’d frightened Mr. Jing?
These coffee and desserts seemed like a polite, timid plea to be left alone.
Afterwards, Jing Mian didn’t sit with them.
After placing the order, he returned to his original seat, lowered his eyes, and quietly called his husband again.
The bodyguards: “……”
They’d really scared the young man.
Within just ten minutes, Yu Nian arrived at the café.
Yu Nian was panting heavily, clearly having arrived in a hurry. He waved at Jing Mian from a distance: “Mr. Jing! I’m here to pick you up.”
Jing Mian stood up, somewhat surprised. “You got here so quickly.”
“Yeah,” Yu Nian smiled. “I happened to be nearby, and the roads weren’t jammed. As soon as I saw Brother Ren’s message, I started driving right away.”
Jing Mian said, “Sorry to trouble you, Brother Yu.”
Yu Nian chuckled as they walked. “No trouble at all. This is part of my job.”
The bodyguards nearby also stood up in unison.
Jing Mian: “…”
Yu Nian glanced up, meeting the bodyguards’ gazes. He raised a hand to signal them to stop, then casually averted his eyes.
Only after leaving the café and getting into the car did Jing Mian feel like tonight had finally come to a complete end.
Except that shortly after the car started moving, Jing Mian glanced back and vaguely saw—
The bodyguards had returned to their black car. Its headlights flickered on, not too brightly, and it slowly began following the direction they had left in.
Though the speed wasn’t fast, it matched every turn and red light.
It seemed… they were tailing them.
This sense of vigilance only ended when they entered the residential area. After getting out of the car and waving goodbye to Yu Nian, Jing Mian entered the villa’s small courtyard.
Once home, Jing Mian collapsed straight onto the sofa.
The living room was deathly silent.
Jing Mian hadn’t turned on the lights, so the darkness stretched all the way to the entrance. There was still no sign of Husband’s return.
Jing Mian calculated—tomorrow was the wine-tasting event. Husband would likely stay at a hotel tonight, and the flight was the day after. Given the distance between the two locations, the earliest he could return would be the evening two days from now.
His laptop was nearby. Jing Mian propped himself up, grabbed it, plugged it in, and booted it up on the spot to log into the game.
He still hadn’t thanked Ash for tonight’s events.
What Jing Mian didn’t know was that in the mere hour Ash had been online, forum posts had been popping up endlessly, with the hype uncontrollably soaring:
[Ash is still showing as online!!]
[What’s going on? Why isn’t he playing?]
[Didn’t he log in to play a few rounds?]
[What is Ash doing?]
[Based on my experience, he’s either AFK or chatting.]
[!!?]
[If he were AFK, his status would be ‘Do Not Disturb.’]
[So, Ash is talking to someone?]
[Ahhhh who is it?!]
[Which little deity made the legendary Ash, who’s been retired for years, log in late at night for a 1v1 chat??]
[Impatient impatient impatient! Today, I am the King of Impatience!]
…
When Jing Mian logged in, he had originally planned to leave a message thanking Ash. To his surprise, the moment he logged in, the chat window between them wasn’t grayed out.
This meant—
Ash was still online.
And the other’s status didn’t show him in a game, nor was it set to ‘Do Not Disturb’ for AFK. This proved that since logging in… Ash had stayed on their chat interface the entire time.
It gave Jing Mian the illusion that Ash had been waiting for him.
His fingers paused slightly, and Jing Mian inexplicably grew nervous.
To him, Ash felt like an untouchable illusion turned reality. Even with sporadic interactions, they wouldn’t become familiar—just like when he first reunited with Husband after so long.
A few seconds later, Jing Mian typed:
Sheep: [I’m home.]
Sheep: [Thank you for helping me tonight.]
Just a polite thank-you, Jing Mian hadn’t expected Ash to reply immediately. Yet, barely ten seconds later, his phone buzzed with a notification:
Ash: 【You’re welcome】
……
His heart raced a little too fast.
Jing Mian froze for a moment, thinking—so it was true. Those suited men really had been sent by Ash.
But now, staring at this brief message, he found himself at a loss for how to respond.
Not long after.
His phone suddenly chimed again.
Ash: 【Want to play a game together?】
……
……
Jing Mian’s pupils constricted.
Blood rushed to his head, making his heartbeat stutter. Without any warning, he shot to his feet.
Ash was inviting him to team up.
Ash…
was inviting
him.
To team up.
He was going to play a match of Glory—the game that had ignited his passion because of Ash’s legend—with the very idol he’d admired for five years.
Ash was inviting him.
!!!!
Jing Mian felt like he was caught in a mental hurricane.
A storm named Ash.
And he was clearly already swept away.
His blood turned ice-cold in an instant—not just his heart, but his fingers too.
His heart gradually warmed again from the relentless pounding, but his fingertips remained numb.
By the time Jing Mian regained his senses, he realized a full minute had passed since receiving the message.
Reaching out, he typed a reply. In the silent living room, he could almost hear the echo of his own heartbeat.
He replied: 【Okay.】
Just as Jing Mian was blankly waiting for Ash to pull him into the game room, his phone suddenly pinged with a WeChat notification.
Impossible to ignore, because several messages came in rapid succession.
Picking up his phone, he saw they were voice messages from Song Xianyang.
Jing Mian tapped to play—
“Brother Mianmian!”
“It’s Friday—time for our online team-up!” Song Xianyang’s voice was bright and sunny, amplified by the microphone into something almost like a whine: “What are we playing today? Solo dungeon runs or random matches? You decide.”
Jing Mian suddenly remembered—today was Friday. Since it was everyone’s common free time, whether at the club or not, members would automatically pair up online, usually with mics on, practicing for hours on end.
If not for Song Xianyang’s reminder, Jing Mian might have completely forgotten.
Song Xianyang’s lightning-fast fingers had already sent a team invite that now appeared on Jing Mian’s screen: 【Accept】or 【Decline】?
Normally, Jing Mian would hit accept without hesitation.
But now… there was Ash.
He sent a voice message back: “Can I bring someone?”
Song Xianyang: “?”
Song Xianyang: “Of course, Brother Mianmian. Just invite them directly.”
“Okay.”
Jing Mian quickly tapped accept, entering the room Song Xianyang had created. It was a four-player match—besides Song Xianyang, there was one other teammate waiting.
With Ash joining, that would make four.
The other teammate, curious, turned on his mic: “Mianmian, this is your first time inviting someone, right? Is he from our Team? Is he good?”
Jing Mian: “……”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. He didn’t know how to answer: “Not from our Team, but… he’s very good.”
The kind of good that’s ranked first in the entire server.
“If you say he’s good, then his skills must be insane,” the teammate said with interest. “Mianmian, do your best to recruit him into our Team.”
Jing Mian choked.
No matter how hard he tried, it was absolutely impossible.
Soon, the vacant matching slot began to flicker with faint wind effects.
This signaled that the teammate Jing Mian had invited was about to appear.
The members were all somewhat expectant.
The next second, a pure black figure abruptly appeared in the matching room. The man was tall and coldly imposing, his character’s single-shouldered cape adorned with dazzling golden patterns, hinting at the identity of a war god.
At that moment,
the entire room suddenly fell into dead silence.
Through the microphone, Jing Mian said, “Well, let’s all get acquainted…”
“This is Ash.”
For a full thirty seconds after Jing Mian’s words fell, no one in the room spoke.
The microphone clearly wasn’t muted.
The silence was so profound it felt like the system had crashed—no one dared to break the stalemate.
Jing Mian silently licked his lips.
He understood them all too well.
But the next second,
the message notification from Ash also successfully made Jing Mian’s brain crash:
Ash: 【Yeah.】
Ash: 【I’m MianMian’s man.】