Chapter Thirteen: Still Left Unspoken

After leaving Yuan Zhong’s home, Lin Hui sat on the bus, gazing absentmindedly out the window at the passing scenery. She truly had something to take care of, though it was a matter she neither liked nor excelled at.

A few days ago, Zhang Shun had gifted her three different hero skins in the game. Lin Hui had repeatedly told him not to, but he seemed unwilling to stop. Helpless, Lin Hui tried to transfer him money, but he refused to accept it. After much back and forth, they finally agreed she would treat him to a meal.

After turning it over in her mind, Lin Hui decided that rather than letting things drag on ambiguously, it would be better to use this meal to sever their connection—or, at least, Zhang Shun’s wishful thinking. Lin Hui wasn’t naïve; she could see Zhang Shun’s interest in her.

That day, they’d run into each other at school and ended up going to the library together with three others. While she was browsing the shelves, Zhang Shun approached. Out of habit, Lin Hui glanced at Yuan Zhong, but he’d gone to the restroom.

“Could you help me borrow a book?” Zhang Shun asked.

“My library card’s maxed out,” Lin Hui replied coolly.

“Really? What a coincidence,” Zhang Shun said with a smile.

Lin Hui nodded, grabbed a random book, and returned to her seat.

During the graduate school discussion event, Yuan Zhong had saved the seat opposite Zhang Shun for Lin Hui, so she had to grit her teeth and sit there. Throughout, Zhang Shun’s gaze kept straying to her, deliberately or not, until she was forced to excuse herself and leave early.

To be honest, Zhang Shun was an excellent person. If it weren’t for Yuan Zhong… But there was no “if.” Yuan Zhong liked him, and Lin Hui had thought it through—she chose friendship. She wanted Yuan Zhong to be happy.

There was a nice little restaurant near campus that had just reopened as students returned. Lin Hui entered to find Zhang Shun already waiting.

When he saw her, Zhang Shun waved, “Over here.”

At the four-person table, Lin Hui sat diagonally across from him.

“Shall we order?” Zhang Shun offered her the menu.

Lin Hui shook her head. “I’m not picky. You decide.”

“Alright. Any dietary restrictions?” he asked.

“None.”

Zhang Shun didn’t press further, ordered the food, handed the menu to the waiter, and poured tea for Lin Hui.

“Thank you,” Lin Hui said.

“You’re welcome. How was your Spring Festival?” Zhang Shun asked.

“Pretty good,” Lin Hui replied.

“I heard you didn’t go home. Did you go anywhere?” he asked again.

“No.”

After a pause, Zhang Shun asked, “Was staying at school over the holiday alright?”

“It was fine.”

An awkward silence followed, only broken when the waiter brought a dish to the table.

“Try some food, see if you like it?” Zhang Shun suggested.

Lin Hui nodded and took a bite.

“How is it?” he asked, watching her.

“Pretty good.”

“Oh.” Zhang Shun responded, taking a bite himself.

Lin Hui kept her head down, eating silently. When all the dishes arrived, she focused intently on her food, not sparing Zhang Shun a glance.

After a while, Zhang Shun commented, “Looks like the food’s good.”

Lin Hui nodded, “As long as you’re satisfied.”

“I meant you—you haven’t lifted your head once to eat.”

Lin Hui felt a bit embarrassed and finally looked up at him.

Zhang Shun smiled, “Does looking at me ruin your appetite?”

Lin Hui shook her head. She didn’t want to talk much with Zhang Shun; the meal was just an errand to her. She wasn’t good at conversation anyway—awkward silences were easy for her.

But Zhang Shun clearly didn’t see it that way and started discussing academic papers—ones Lin Hui had cited in her own work, so she couldn’t feign ignorance. As they talked, her opinions slipped out, and before she realized it, the meal was nearly over and the atmosphere had actually improved.

During the meal, Zhang Shun stepped out for a moment. Lin Hui didn’t think much of it, but when she went to pay the bill, the waiter told her it was already settled.

“How could you do that? We agreed I’d pay,” Lin Hui frowned.

Zhang Shun shrugged. “Next time, you can treat me.”

“This isn’t right,” Lin Hui said, a little angry.

“How so?”

“You went back on your word.”

Zhang Shun replied, “I did say from the start, the gifts were given willingly. You don’t need to repay me.”

Lin Hui didn’t want to engage further and turned to leave.

“Hey, don’t be mad. Next time, I promise you can treat,” Zhang Shun followed after her.

Lin Hui walked quickly, but Zhang Shun’s long legs kept him close behind; she couldn’t shake him off.

“What do you want, really?” Lin Hui glared at him.

“I’m heading back to the dorm, just walking with you,” Zhang Shun answered earnestly.

Lin Hui gave up and stood aside. “You go ahead.”

Zhang Shun looked at her and laughed, “Alright, don’t be angry. This is our first meal together—how could I let a girl pay? Next time, alright?”

“There won’t be a next time,” Lin Hui said, wanting nothing more to do with him.

“Why not?” Zhang Shun asked.

Lin Hui clenched her teeth, “I don’t like eating with you.”

“That’s fine, we could grab dessert, see a movie, or—”

“I don’t like any of that,” she cut him off.

Zhang Shun didn’t get upset. He grinned and lingered nearby, unhurried, following Lin Hui all the way to her dorm.

Lin Hui hadn’t expected Zhang Shun—a guy like him—to play the rascal. She opened the door to the dorm and found Zhang Cheng had already returned.

Zhang Cheng glanced at Lin Hui, looking like she wanted to say something but stopped.

“Happy New Year,” Lin Hui greeted her first.

Zhang Cheng nodded and continued unpacking.

That evening, Lin Hui logged into the game, saw Zhang Shun was online, and decisively went offline. She resolved: enough, let things cool down. If he kept pestering her, she’d just block him.

At home, Yuan Zhong was busy carrying her apprentice up the ranks. The first few matches went well, but things got rough after that—two wins, then two losses. The King rank was within reach, yet always just out of grasp.

Yuan Zhong grew anxious and her words became sharper. If a teammate was slow to react, she’d quip, “Missing a finger or something? Why are you even playing?” If the mage missed a skill, she’d comment, “Does this hero not have any skills you like?” If the jungler couldn’t carry, she’d say, “Why don’t you invade the enemy jungle? At least you could be a distraction.” If the marksman failed to buy anti-heal against Cheng Yaojin, she’d scoff, “Too much of a noob to deserve it? Maybe you’re just self-aware!”

In one match, Yuan Zhong played Bian Que mid. Every time she tried to heal, her teammates dodged away. She couldn’t help but say, “What, you don’t like my healing? Too bad—you’ll never taste Bian Que’s poison.”

A teammate finally snapped: “How can a girl talk so harshly?”

Qi Leyi, biting her tongue, replied, “She’s right, you know.”

For all her sharp words, Yuan Zhong’s skill was undeniable, and so the random teammates gritted their teeth and bore it.

When dinner time came, Yuan Zhong was dizzy and exhausted. “I’m done—too tired. Logging off.”

Not-a-Cheapskate: Thanks, Master.

Yuan Zhong massaged her fingers. “I don’t know how streamers and pro players do it—playing this game all day. How do they stand it?”

Qi Leyi thought of “Unreliable,” and muttered inwardly: “What else? They just keep grinding.”

Looking at her stats, Yuan Zhong was still puzzled. “What’s going on? Why has it been so tough these past two days?”

Qi Leyi was embarrassed to answer—the stats clearly showed he was dragging the team down.

Calming down, Yuan Zhong saw the truth: her random teammates weren’t the problem—the root was her own apprentice. But what could she do? She’d chosen this precious apprentice herself.

Yuan Zhong thought seriously. Yesterday, when she’d teamed up with Lin Hui, they’d won much more easily. So she said, “Let’s find another player, someone more skilled—like my friend. That way, we’ll have an easier time.”

Qi Leyi was conflicted. In terms of skill, “Unreliable” was a good pick, but he’d been hiding his gender; if the truth came out, would “Yuan You Qian Jin Zhong” be angry and stop helping him rank up?

“Yuan You Qian Jin Zhong” asked again: “What’s up? Just say it.”

Qi Leyi hesitated, fingers hovering over the keys. Only two matches away from King rank! Forget it, better not say anything, lest all efforts go to waste. So he typed: “It’s nothing. I just feel bad for holding you back, Master.”

Yuan Zhong softened. “We built this master-apprentice bond together; it’s fine. If we have to try a few more times, we’ll still get to King.”

Not-a-Cheapskate: Master, you’re the best!

Yuan Zhong smiled; kids were so easy to please.

After agreeing on their next session, Yuan Zhong finally logged off.

The next morning, Yuan Zhong packed her bags and got ready to return to school. Her diligent father, worried about crowded subways, drove her there himself.

At the school gates, Yuan Zhong spotted Feng Duoduo getting out of a taxi and quickly had her father park nearby.

“Duoduo!” Yuan Zhong called, taking her bag from her father and jogging over.

Feng Duoduo turned and waved.

“Happy New Year!” Yuan Zhong caught up.

“Happy New Year!” Feng Duoduo beamed, eyeing Yuan Zhong up and down. “How did you get so skinny?”

“Really? I spent the holiday in the mountains—probably ran myself ragged,” Yuan Zhong replied. “You haven’t changed at all. How do you never put on weight?”

“Don’t jinx me,” Feng Duoduo rolled her eyes.

“I saw all the food you posted—it looked mouthwatering,” Yuan Zhong teased.

“I only had a bite or two. Who dares eat too much? It’s easy to gain, hard to lose.”

The two chatted as they walked back to the dorm together.

With all four roommates reunited, they had dinner together that night. For some reason, Yuan Zhong sensed Zhang Cheng seemed troubled. Knowing her, Zhang Cheng was straightforward—she couldn’t hide anything. If she looked worried, there must be something on her mind.

Yuan Zhong quietly asked Lin Hui, “Is something up with Zhang Cheng?”

Lin Hui shook her head. “No idea. She was already like this when I got back.”

Yuan Zhong wondered, “Could something have happened at home?”

Feng Duoduo said, “No way. If something had happened, would she have come back to school early? Definitely not.”

The truth was, Zhang Cheng was feeling awful. It seemed she’d discovered a secret, and now it was eating her up inside. What should she do?