Chapter 29

Take twenty-nine bites.
As soon as the words fell, the two of them fell silent at the same time.
The instant the elevator arrived, fresh air rushed in, and that faint, intangible ambiguity seemed to be washed away.
She let go of his arm—then felt that was somehow odd too, like she should say something to smooth over the strange atmosphere.
But the words weren’t appropriate. She opened her mouth a few times and still couldn’t get anything out.
In the end, she could only explain stiffly, trying to find a reasonable excuse for what she’d just done.
She tugged at the corner of her mouth. “Don’t misunderstand. There was… something going on downstairs. I just panicked and pulled you up. That’s all.”
He Mingye lowered his eyes, as if thinking about something.
His gaze swept over the place she’d grabbed. The sweater was wrinkled there—proof of how hard she’d been holding on.
That faint sweet scent—like a wisp of floating smoke—spread out in an instant.
He swallowed slowly. His thumb brushed over the web of his hand without a trace.
“So…” he said.
“Why did you go out of your way to explain?”
“…”
…
After Ying Tao came out of the bathroom, she rolled onto the bed in her bathrobe, shoved her face into a pillow, and let out a muffled, frustrated scream.
“Ah—!”
So annoying.
Why had she gone out of her way to explain?
She did it because she did it—what reason did she need?
Wasn’t she always like this?
Explaining only made her look guilty, like she was protesting too much.
She clearly…
The more Ying Tao thought about it, the more restless she became.
He wasn’t going to think she actually coveted him, was he?
How wronged could she be…
Heaven as witness, she didn’t mean it like that.
She’d just been in a hurry and yanked him in to hide.
Now that she thought about it carefully, her move really had been weird.
It made it look like she and He Mingye were sneaking around.
Ying Tao was in the middle of spiraling when her phone suddenly rang.
She froze.
She’d switched phones that morning. The old one had died.
After they arrived at the hotel, she asked the front desk to send up a cable, then tossed the phone aside to charge.
Now the battery was almost full, and missed calls and unread messages flooded in, popping up one after another.
Aunt Tang had called three or four times. When she couldn’t get through, she sent two WeChat messages instead:
“Peach, your dad is just angry right now. Don’t take it personally.”
“You ran out like that without taking anything. You don’t have any cash on you, do you?”
Aunt Tang transferred her a few thousand, then added:
“Keep this for now. I’ll talk to your dad these next couple days.”
“If it’s not enough, tell Auntie. I’ll send you more in a couple days.”
Ying Tao paused, and didn’t accept the money.
Actually, Aunt Tang wasn’t like Tang Mingfei.
She wasn’t from Jingbei. She’d been from a village in Quzhou—Lingshui Village.
She was a nurse at Quzhou First People’s Hospital.
Her first husband had been a college student assigned to teach in the village.
Later he stayed to work on development and poverty alleviation, and tragically died on that road—caught in a mudslide.
Later, when her father went to Quzhou on an inspection tour, his long-standing health issues flared again.
He recuperated in Quzhou for a while, and that was how he met Aunt Tang.
Maybe he liked that she could take care of people—unlike Wen Yalan’s intensity and explosive temper—so he set his mind on her and brought both Aunt Tang and Tang Mingfei back to Jingbei.
At first, Ying Tao resisted hard. Suddenly there was a so-called “woman of the house.”
But Aunt Tang was gentle and even. Whether to Ying Tao or to Tang Mingfei, she’d never been biased.
Ying Tao had never felt the warmth of her biological mother.
Yet she’d been lucky enough to meet two remarkable women in her life—women who showed her genuine care and protection.
So over the years, no matter how Tang Mingfei provoked trouble, Ying Tao swallowed it for Aunt Tang’s sake.
She knew how hard it was to be a stepmother.
She also knew Aunt Tang hadn’t really gained much from marrying into the Ying family.
The only “benefit” was that Tang Mingfei could leave a small place like Quzhou to study in Jingbei.
But that was an exchange made with marriage itself.
Ying Zhaohui was deeply patriarchal. And after a lifetime in office, he couldn’t stand being questioned.
Living with him wasn’t something you could endure with a single word like “tolerance.”
Ying Tao wouldn’t take Aunt Tang’s money.
Aunt Tang’s pension wasn’t much. Even though Ying Zhaohui had wanted to move her household registration to Jingbei from the start, she refused.
She said, “Zhao Yong has no family left. It’s just me now.”
“Before I came, we talked about this. You said you wouldn’t force me into your household registry.”
There was no romance in a second marriage.
It was mostly interests.
Ying Zhaohui valued her temperament and competence. He wanted her to become a caged bird, a full-time housewife.
Aunt Tang compromised for Tang Mingfei’s future, but in her heart she’d always kept a clean, quiet place reserved for her late husband.
Ying Tao thought about it. Her conflict with Ying Zhaohui shouldn’t spill onto other people.
So she replied to Aunt Tang properly.
[Auntie Tang, don’t worry. I still have money. Don’t try to persuade my father. I don’t plan to go back to that house.]
She was truly sick of it.
Ying Zhaohui’s temper was unpredictable. He lashed out and hit people without warning, never caring what she wanted.
In his eyes, she was only a chess piece with some remaining value, to be driven around.
Maybe seeing how firm she was, Aunt Tang didn’t insist.
She only told her to be careful and stay safe.
Ying Tao flopped back onto the bed.
She replied “Got it” casually.
Just as she was about to fall asleep, her phone suddenly buzzed again.
She froze—then saw that a friend request had been accepted.
She snapped fully awake.
In a rush, she sat up and messaged to confirm.
[God gamer?]
No reply.
But the WeChat ID was the one BK had sent her before, so it should be correct.
She tapped into his profile.
There was nothing in Moments—just a single horizontal line.
She felt oddly disappointed.
He probably had her blocked. With his personality, it wouldn’t be surprising.
In the end, they were only net friends from a game. Of course he wouldn’t like sharing real life.
[Mm.]
So few words. He opened with that and instantly killed the conversation.
Unluckily for her, her mood was bad too. She didn’t feel like talking.
She lost interest and was about to close her phone when he suddenly threw out a topic.
[Want to run a dungeon?]
Ying Tao considered it.
[Sure.]
Running dungeons with a god gamer was great.
She could freeload.
She didn’t have to do anything.
BK killed the mobs effortlessly, and the rare materials the boss dropped went straight into her bag.
At first she’d politely asked whether he wanted them, but later she stopped bothering.
He fought in front; she harvested behind.
The world voice channel was public.
Nearby, a couple grinding mobs started arguing out of nowhere.
[Look at how good he is to his girlfriend—everything that drops, he hands over unconditionally. She can just stand there looking pretty. And you—look at you!]
[What about me? Baby, I’m doing it for your own good. Your skills are trash. If you don’t practice more now, once public beta opens and players flood in, how are you going to do group fights? You’ll get flamed to death.]
[Fine, fine, so you finally said what you really think—you just think I suck! We lose in Honor and you blame me; now in Dream Jianghu you say I’m dragging you down. Why don’t you admit you’re the one who’s bad? I’ve seen you “carry girls” happily. Weren’t you all sweet with that Bright Lantern Three Thousand before? You have no patience with me—let’s break up! Trash man!]
“…”
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: Should we… remind them they’re on public chat?
[BK]: You want to?
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: Forget it. Too awkward.
And the awkward part was them—being mistaken for a couple.
[BK]: Mm.
[BK]: Come pick up.
“…”
Looks like the only one embarrassed was her. The god gamer probably didn’t care at all.
Ying Tao went and picked up the loot obediently.
They ran a few dungeons, and sure enough—enemies really did meet on narrow roads.
After teleporting to the next instance, they ran head-on into Bright Lantern Three Thousand.
Last time, because that “Tian Dao brother” had jumped out to draw fire, most of the heat went to him. Bright Lantern Three Thousand—the original instigator—got to hide cleanly.
Now she had a Wenda player with her, ID: Sail Past a Thousand Sails.
Probably still holding a grudge, Bright Lantern Three Thousand exploded the moment she saw Ying Tao.
[Bright Lantern Three Thousand]: Oh, look at you. You still dare log in.
What—was this woman sick?
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: People who do dirty things still dare show up. Why wouldn’t I?
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: Are you a joker?
Maybe her language skills were too poor, because Bright Lantern Three Thousand replied with a string of unknown symbols.
Then, all of a sudden, she moved—Bright Lantern Three Thousand threw a root spell on Ying Tao.
[Bright Lantern Three Thousand]: Senior, what are you waiting for? Go steal the mob. Otherwise later we’ll get leeches again, freeloading and stealing our home.
That was ugly.
Sure, Ying Tao freeloded, but she had morals, okay?
Besides, the person she was freeloading off hadn’t even said a word.
But she couldn’t move.
One of the most exciting things about Dream Jianghu was that player duels had basically no limits.
Aside from a few fixed maps, getting ambushed while grinding mobs was common.
Ying Tao tried to break free. No luck.
She gritted her teeth in anger.
She didn’t even need to grind this mob.
But since they struck first, then she wouldn’t be polite.
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: God gamer, get them.
The moment she gave the order, the warlock moved.
No wonder he was the god gamer who could dominate streamers.
His positioning was ridiculous.
Even though Wenda moved first, he blinked right in front of him.
Wenda had more advantages on paper, but the player was awful.
Watching the fight, Ying Tao suddenly realized a noob like her really had the nerve to call other people bad.
Sins, sins.
But she’d teamed with BK too many times.
Every time she watched him fight, he was clean, ruthless, decisive—no wasted motions.
When you got spoiled by that, everyone else looked terrible.
Sure enough, even with the class advantage and initiative, Wenda couldn’t match BK’s skill.
He launched a big move; BK dodged like a ghost, flashed behind him, and smashed him in one hit.
Ying Tao almost laughed out loud.
But before she could, Bright Lantern Three Thousand—seeing she couldn’t steal the mob—turned and charged at Ying Tao to avenge her “boyfriend.”
What the hell—so shameless.
Wasn’t it supposed to be one-on-one? Now she was ambushing.
Two countries at war don’t kill envoys, okay?
Ying Tao didn’t even want to look. She figured she was doomed.
At the critical moment, before Bright Lantern Three Thousand’s sword even reached her, it got knocked away by a hammer swing.
Ying Tao lit up.
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: God gamer, you’re so cool.
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: Cane God of War.
[BK]: …
Maybe he thought the nickname wasn’t badass enough, because he went very silent.
After a long while, he finally said:
[BK]: Want revenge?
Revenge?
Ying Tao froze. Did he mean the forum thing?
She and Bright Lantern Three Thousand had definitely formed a grudge.
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: Yes.
She thought maybe the god gamer meant letting her fight solo and crush her with technique.
Instead, he took her to the nearest respawn point and camped Bright Lantern Three Thousand and Sail Past a Thousand Sails.
He was sly—he didn’t brute-force it.
He used the warlock’s natural advantage: hide, poison first, then call her out to “take revenge.”
Ying Tao asked excitedly:
[One Slash and Your Peach Blossoms Bloom All Over the Sky]: How do I do it?
[BK]: However you want.
[BK]: Play it however you like.
[BK]: This is close to the return portal. If they die, they can respawn. If they respawn, you can keep harvesting.
What a poisonous scheme.
Perfect for her.
With him saying that, she truly didn’t hold back.
She’d been holding in a bellyful of rage.
Now she finally found a vent.
She spammed skills wildly.
Bright Lantern Three Thousand died, respawned, died again—over and over.
Her level kept dropping.
That was the most terrifying part of Dream Jianghu:
When a player was killed by another player, it wasn’t just HP they lost.
They lost levels.
And if the damage piled up enough, they could even drop gear like a boss.
Bright Lantern Three Thousand went completely berserk, cursing worse and worse.
Her boyfriend tried to save her, but he couldn’t beat BK.
Every time he tried to interfere, he failed. So he could only talk.
[Sail Past a Thousand Sails]: Enough, okay? She’s suffered enough. You’re a girl too—why are you hitting this hard?
[Sail Past a Thousand Sails]: Even if she was wrong, you already got revenge. Why be so petty and refuse to let go?
[Sail Past a Thousand Sails]: You know leveling and hoarding resources isn’t easy. Why be so aggressive? Just let her off this once. Talk properly. Don’t keep killing each other, endlessly.
“…”
Ying Tao wanted to roll her eyes.
What kind of logic was that?
Bright Lantern Three Thousand spread rumors on the forum and it was “no big deal,” but the moment Ying Tao got revenge she became the villain?
She couldn’t even be bothered to argue back.
It was peak savior-complex.
Sail Past a Thousand Sails kept nagging—basically accusing her of going too far, saying she should spare people when possible.
Then, the next second, he got pierced clean through.
And the person who stabbed him was calm as water.
[BK]: Sorry. Slipped.
“…”
Wow. Your “slip” was perfectly timed—and perfectly accurate too.
Very quickly, the system message popped: Sail Past a Thousand Sails’ level dropped as well.
[BK]: If you want to stand up for Bright Lantern Three Thousand, fine.
[BK]: One Slash is mine.
[BK]: Whatever she wants to do, she does.
[BK]: Not happy? Come find me.