Chapter 19

Take nineteen bites.
Zhou Chaoli was always gentle with people. He was considerate and thoughtful in everything he did. He rarely let his emotions show.
At the very least—Ying Tao had never seen him look like this.
It was almost…
Lonely.
Ying Tao fell silent.
She lowered her lashes, not knowing how to answer.
When a young girl’s feelings first sprout, she always imagines herself as the heroine of an idol drama—projecting that first budding emotion onto someone.
Zhou Chaoli was different from He Mingye.
He Mingye never let anything go once he had the upper hand, and he loved teasing her.
Zhou Chaoli, on the other hand, was like a spring breeze in April—quietly, soundlessly seeping into her life.
In middle school, her grades had never been very good.
But she didn’t want He Mingye to look down on her, so she gritted her teeth and tried to compete with him.
Back then, Zhou Chaoli was already in college.
He rarely lived at home; only during vacations would he come back for a while.
Until the summer after her first year of middle school.
Zhou Chaoli became her tutor.
He taught patiently, carefully—completely different from He Mingye.
At first, she was embarrassed to even take her test papers out.
She’d gotten thirty points in math—nowhere near passing.
But Zhou Chaoli comforted her.
“It’s okay. Failing once doesn’t mean anything.”
“Peach is just too tired. You have to split your attention with training, so your grades didn’t do well for now.”
Zhou Chaoli always encouraged her not to deny herself.
She clung to that gentleness she’d never experienced before.
Only later did she understand—
That gentleness could also become a blade that stabbed her.
His kindness was simply his nature.
Because of his good upbringing and the goodness at his core, he treated everyone that way—warm, polite, gentle.
From beginning to end, he only saw her as a “junior.”
To him, she was only a close little niece.
So her confession was naturally treated like a joke.
Back then, Zhou Chaoli looked troubled. He paused, then said tactfully:
“Tao-tao, you’re still young. Maybe you can’t tell what ‘liking’ really is.”
But Ying Tao was certain.
“I know what liking is, Chaoli-ge. I like you.”
Zhou Chaoli was quiet for a long time, as if helpless. Then he sighed.
“Tao-tao… what do you like about me?”
At that time, she answered with absolute certainty:
“A lot.”
“You’re good to me. You care about me, you take care of me, and you’ve given me so much courage.”
“When I was injured, you were always there with me. I know.”
When she was seventeen, she suffered a heavy blow. For a time, she truly thought she would be paralyzed for life.
Back then, Zhou Chaoli was a resident in standardized training.
During the time she was recovering in the hospital, he often came to the ward to see her.
And every morning, she would receive a bouquet with dew still on it, along with an encouragement card he wrote.
In the darkest stretch of her life, it was his companionship that gave her courage.
…
“Tao-tao, do you still remember when I asked you why you liked me?”
Zhou Chaoli’s voice was calm. “Back then, your answer was: because I was good to you.”
“So you liked me.”
“You mistook gratitude for love.”
Ying Tao stayed silent.
“Then why can’t gratitude become love?” she asked.
She didn’t understand the difference.
“Isn’t companionship more important than sweet talk?”
“Every card you wrote me, I kept them all.”
“If it weren’t for you, I might not have been able to crawl out of that nightmare.”
She was terrified—more terrified than anyone—that she would never stand again.
She was afraid that if she became paralyzed, her parents would abandon her completely.
She was even more afraid of becoming someone’s burden.
Zhou Chaoli looked at her for a long time, his expression complicated, before he finally spoke.
“You liked the person who pulled you out of the abyss.”
“That person wasn’t me.”
“Tao-tao… I’m sorry I couldn’t be the one who stayed with you the longest.”
“The cards—” Zhou Chaoli told her plainly, “weren’t from me.”
How could that be?
Ying Tao sat there in a daze, stunned.
If the cards weren’t from him, then who?
Only a very small number of people knew about her injury.
To let her recover in peace, Ying Zhaohui had even deliberately reduced unnecessary visits.
There weren’t many people who came to see her every day.
Only in the earliest days, Zhou Lubai and the others had taken turns coming a few times.
He Mingye couldn’t make it back from abroad.
And at that time, she didn’t even know how she’d offended him. They were locked in a cold war.
He didn’t send a single message to ask after her.
She stayed in the ward day after day.
Her spine was broken. Her lower body was completely paralyzed, no sensation at all.
Every time she tried to move her legs even a little, she would sweat like crazy from anxiety.
But she couldn’t move.
She was terrified she would fall like this forever, living every day inside a thick, choking panic.
But then, she didn’t know from which day onward—
Every morning when she opened her eyes, there would always be a fresh bouquet in the vase.
Sometimes it was a bunch of freesias.
Sometimes it was jasmine and gardenias.
At first, she thought the caregiver had changed them.
Only later did she realize that every day, there would be a card left by her bedside.
Sometimes a joke.
Sometimes idle chatter.
“Want to see spring? Spring will come.”
“The sky’s clear today. There’s a rainbow.”
Since the accident, she’d heard countless people comfort her.
Everyone told her:
It’s okay. It will pass.
Clench your teeth and you’ll get through it.
But that person never said things like that.
He was like a shadow with no shape, always with her, giving her courage to face the dark.
She started wanting to meet him—wanting to know who he was.
She hinted at wanting to see him.
But he said: when spring arrives, he would come see her.
And he said he hoped that when he saw her then, she would already be able to stand in the sunlight and smile as she greeted him.
At that time, he would give her a hug and tell her she was truly amazing.
She worked so hard at rehabilitation.
Even though rehab wasn’t smooth—falling down was basically her required course.
But later, she slowly began to move her steps.
Without support, she could stand for a few seconds.
Even if it was only a few seconds, that tiny progress made her ecstatic.
When the spring of the second year arrived, she was discharged.
She still needed a cane, couldn’t stand or walk for long.
That day, light spring rain fell.
Ying Zhaohui came to pick her up.
Standing at the hospital entrance, she saw Zhou Chaoli walking over holding a bouquet of gardenias.
He hugged her, patted her back, and said warmly:
“Tao-tao, congratulations on being discharged.”
…
“I never thought that, by a twist of fate, you’d believe the person who stayed with you was me,” Zhou Chaoli said candidly.
“If I accepted your liking because of that misplaced gratitude… Tao-tao, I’m sorry.”
“I’m sorry to disappoint you.”
When she confessed, she’d said it was because of “his” long companionship during her injury that she’d slowly fallen for him.
But that night had been chaotic. People who’d gone out to set off fireworks had come back one after another, and he hadn’t had time to explain.
So the misunderstanding lasted for years.
Ying Tao didn’t speak. Her lowered lashes suddenly trembled.
In a muffled voice, she said, “Little Uncle… I’m a bit tired. I want to go back and rest first.”
Zhou Chaoli was quiet for a moment. “Okay.”
…
Finding out by chance that she’d mistaken the person all along naturally made Ying Tao feel discouraged.
Then why hadn’t that person come back then?
Was it an unintentional broken promise—or deliberate?
Even now, she still didn’t know who it was.
Ying Tao looked listless. Her mind was like a ball of tangled thread.
In the end, she gave up trying to unravel it.
She hid in the virtual world for quiet.
She logged on late.
After leaving Luoyang City, she farmed small mobs nearby for experience.
She didn’t expect that in the middle of the night, someone on her friend list was still online.
The system popped:
[BK has sent you a party request]
Ying Tao froze.
She accepted, and got automatically teleported into the dungeon.
She farmed like a maniac, throwing out flashy ult after flashy ult. Someone in the party even started cursing.
But at that moment, BK opened a private whisper window.
[BK]: Bad mood?
Ying Tao paused, surprised at how sharp he was.
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: Is it that obvious?
[BK]: Yeah.
[BK]: You whiffed your ult.
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: …
So he could tell she was in a bad mood because she missed her ult?
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: Or maybe I just suck?
[BK]: Oh.
Oh?
The next second, he tossed over one line.
[BK]: You do suck.
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: ?
This guy—why did he talk in a way that was so infuriating, just like He Mingye?
Ying Tao rolled her eyes, forcing down her temper. She was about to just say bye and log off—
[BK]: Why are you in a bad mood?
Ying Tao paused.
She didn’t have a habit of dumping her troubles on strangers online.
And this was only someone she’d added for two or three hours. You couldn’t even call them acquainted.
She thought for a moment and typed:
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: Nothing.
This time, the other side went silent for a long while.
So long that she was about to close the chat and log off—
When a message suddenly came.
[BK]: Really nothing?
[BK]: Not that you did something guilty and your conscience is uneasy?
Ying Tao frowned. What was wrong with this person?
The tiny bit of goodwill she’d felt earlier in the day because of his skills instantly vanished.
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: We’re just online friends. You’re being too intrusive.
She was already in a bad mood. Now she felt even more blocked up.
But he acted like he didn’t notice at all and continued talking normally.
[BK]: Come open the chest.
Ying Tao blinked, surprised.
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: For me? This is rare material. You don’t want it?
[BK]: Yeah.
[BK]: Don’t need it.
Fine. Maybe god gamers were just that willful.
Ying Tao immediately forgot the annoyance and happily ran over to open the chest.
Her luck was good this time—she pulled an orange-grade refinement stone.
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: I’ve played this forever and never once opened an orange refinement stone. God gamer, you really don’t want it?
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: Or… I can trade it back to you?
[BK]: No need.
He really didn’t want it?
Today she’d already leeched a ton of experience and rare materials.
Thinking about how she’d almost taken it out on him just now, even with her thick skin, she still felt a little embarrassed.
[BK]: Come run the map.
Running the map meant taking gold tasks from NPCs in different cities and completing them as required.
Ying Tao followed him through many places.
In the end, they arrived at a cliff’s edge at Mingyue Cliff.
When he stopped, she finally asked:
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: God gamer, we’re not continuing the tasks?
[BK]: Mm. Look.
Look?
Ying Tao stared at her screen and, seeing the scenery in the game at that moment, froze.
Tianyi might be a game company, but their pursuit of beauty was no joke.
Every character model was carefully refined; every frame of the game’s visuals was revised over and over.
Mobile games had to compress graphics; pulling this off wasn’t easy.
This map was called Mingyue Cliff, drawn from: “The bright moon rises over the sea; at the world’s edge, we share this moment.”
To mimic reality, the game had seasons, and it even switched day and night modes automatically based on phone time.
An endless blue sea.
The moon just rising.
Rippling moonlight like a thin mermaid veil draped across the water.
When the wind rose, the surface couldn’t help but ripple. Shattered light flowed.
Wind passed, leaving fragrance.
Peach blossoms fell in soft flurries.
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: So beautiful.
It really was beautiful.
Winding streams, a bright moon, a clean breeze drifting into dreams.
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: How did you find this place?
Mingyue Cliff was famous, but this corner was so tricky it seemed like no one had discovered it.
At least on the forums, she’d never seen anyone post a scene this pretty.
[BK]: Running the map.
[BK]: Put on headphones.
He was so sparing with words.
He’d typed so much earlier that he must’ve exhausted himself.
Ying Tao marveled, but still obediently put her earphones on.
The familiar voice flowed into her ears, and she froze.
Dream Jianghu had been open for a long time. The spokesperson had always been undecided, though plenty of game data had been released.
Everyone said Tianyi was an anime studio and music studio that got delayed by making games.
Because of their obsessive pursuit of beauty, the visuals were exquisite—and even the promotional songs were genuinely good.
But this song…
She’d never heard it.
“Fragments of memory”
“Passing through the corridor of time”
“If it’s all just a dream”
“In these passing years, never forgetting”
…
So strange.
This voice sounded so much like… He Mingye.
The style didn’t resemble his music at all, yet for some reason it fit perfectly.
A faintly smoky tone. A low voice line.
Like someone telling an old story slowly.
Life like a dream—how much joy can it hold?
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: This song…
[BK]: What about it?
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: Nothing. It’s nice.
Maybe because she’d followed him running the map all night, Ying Tao unknowingly let down her guard.
Even if there’d been a small friction, she wasn’t stupid.
Could she not see that he’d dragged her through tasks all night and brought her here… just to cheer her up?
For some reason, her mood—which had been awful—felt much lighter now.
She told the truth.
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: I’m just a bit surprised. Feels like this singer doesn’t usually do this kind of style.
[BK]: You know who the singer is?
Of course she did.
She’d grown up with him. How could she not recognize his voice?
Ying Tao didn’t say it directly. She only replied with a simple “Mm.”
The other side fell silent for a long time.
[BK]: Do you like him?