What would a girl’s room look like? I’d rationally pondered this many times—it proved I was still a mentally sound high school boy with perfectly normal urges toward the opposite sex.

It probably wouldn’t differ much from a guy’s. Beyond the bed, everything should tie back to hobbies. First off, labeling boys’ spaces "messy" and girls’ "tidy" was outright wrong. Even someone nearly perfect like Sister Xixi had her untidy side. She never minded me entering her bedroom, but my mild OCD kept me from stepping into that lingerie-strewn adult zone.

Just as I treated my own heavily guarded room as a no-go zone for Xiaoyu, she never let me into her tiny adjacent room. Predictably plain except for a piano—but a sister’s room isn’t the same as a girl’s room. Even knowing it held panties and such, I felt zero curiosity.

Back to hobbies. I could safely assume that stick-wielding teacher’s bedroom reeked of stale beer cans. Truly zero femininity there. As for Nan Dongye? Whether her room was pink-decorated like a little girl’s, I couldn’t say. But her bookshelf definitely overflowed with BL doujinshi.

I’d once been intensely curious about rooms belonging to legally-mandated "sisters"—girls with zero blood relation. That ended after accidentally walking into Sister Xixi’s room. I never saw her as a flawless idol again. She excelled at showing everyone her strong, perfect facade. In that way, she resembled Xiaoyu—the "all glitter, no gold" type. No wonder they clashed.

Now, before me lay Ouyang Lian’s bedroom. Thanks to shared hobbies, her space felt far more tolerable. No pretentious bookshelves or instruments—just a desk, a bed, and jaw-droppingly expensive electronics.

"Spacing out again? Get over here!"

Sister Xixi and Xiaoyu had taught me one truth: nobody’s perfect. I eyed Lian’s top-tier gaming rig with envy.

"Hey! I’m talking to you!"

With no outsiders around, Lian’s tone turned shamelessly casual. I yawned. "Zoned out. What’d you say?"

She rolled her eyes, jabbing a finger at her computer chair. "Sit. Down."

"Purpose?"

"A tiny favor!"

Probably stuck on some game level again. She’d been obsessed with *The Witcher* lately. Naturally, I assumed internet-addicted Ouyang Lian needed backup.

"That’s not how you ask for favors."

Instantly, her lips puckered. Tears welled as she stretched out a pitiful whine: "Broooother~ Help meee! Someone’s bullying me!"

Only then did I appreciate having a little sister who loved games as much as I did—even if she enjoyed snapping my arms with Kimura locks.

Lian was the only one who never judged my gaming skills through biased lenses. That single "brother" sent me floating. Seeing her pout, I instantly reclaimed my manly dignity. This was a rare chance to protect my sister—something I hadn’t felt since Xiaoyu started beating me in fights.

"How do I help?"

Lian beamed, yanking me into the chair. "Knew you’d come through!"

"I’m curious who could possibly bully *you*." I cracked my knuckles. Ouyang Lian, the lovable mini-boss just below the big boss tier. Boys adored her—how could anyone "bully" her in-game? The word felt suspiciously inflated.

"Some huge jerk. A *real* monster!"

"Worse than when you forged that love letter and hid it in the teacher’s drawer?"

That poor guy waited at dusk in the gymnasium—not for Lian, but for our furious middle-aged homeroom teacher. Such cruelty... Women truly were terrifying creatures, effortlessly crushing others’ youth.

Lian stuck out her tongue playfully, still texting someone over my shoulder.

"You still haven’t said what I’m doing."

I idly scrolled web pages. News flashes flew by: a major company’s VR game *Sacrilege* was booming after launch. They’d soon release VR headsets for open beta. Good news for me—more players meant higher income.

"Solo match!" Lian said casually, thumbs flying across her phone. An appointment?

I scratched my head. "Solo? Interesting. Which game?"

"What game *aren’t* you good at?" she shot back.

"None. Unless you count visual novels—I still don’t get those. Oh, thanks for snagging that *Sacrilege* beta headset for me. Good job!"

"Pfft. Just scouting ahead so I can leech off you later." She waved dismissively, buddy-style. "Wait—visual novels? I thought gloomy otaku like you filled rooms with figurines. Whatever. That’s not competitive anyway. Since you’re so confident, I’ll let *them* pick the game. One match. Winner takes all."

Rude. I only owned a body pillow. But at least she called me "brother"—better than someone’s ruthless exploitation. I forgave her.

After a pause, Lian frowned. "She says *I* choose. FPS, MOBA, MMORPG—whatever I want."

"Any game at all?" I double-checked.

She nodded fiercely. "Since she’s so cocky, crush her! FYI, she’s strongest at MOBAs like *LOL* and *StarCraft*. Worst at FPS! You *cannot* lose!"

"So... winning’s all that matters?"

I pictured some poor guy Lian had demonized—just trying to impress his crush, only to get wrecked by her proxy brother. It tugged at my conscience.

Lian hesitated, then nodded.

"Then... let’s play Gomoku."

"Huh? *Gomoku*? Is that even a competitive game? Is it even a *game*?" Her face twisted in outrage.

"More rudeness. Apologize to the noble sport of five-in-a-row." I opened a gaming platform, creating a Gomoku room. "What’s wrong with it? Simple. Convenient. Suits your cute image perfectly."

"W-well... if people think I’m as much of a shut-in as you, that’d be bad. But won’t this look like backing down?"

Why did every word from this brat suddenly make my blood boil?

"*This* is a fair, transparent one-on-one! Do you even know what ‘Solo’ means?!"

Lian wavered. Losing on a real digital battlefield felt unacceptable. "...Fine. But if you lose, I’ll strangle you first, then kill myself!"

"If I lose at *Gomoku*, I’ll kill myself anyway!"

I’d once obsessed over "unrestricted Gomoku first-player wins." Conclusion? Pure fantasy. But against a middle-schooler? I wouldn’t lose even at *Minesweeper*.

Soon, a newly registered numeric ID joined the room, sending a smiling emoji. Lian’s face darkened—she looked ready to jump in herself. This confirmed my theory: only a big boss could bully a mini-boss. This poor kid was likely another naive admirer. Losing one Gomoku match might actually soften the blow. There’s life after gaming losses.

Luckily, the opponent played like a true beginner. Within two minutes, they were scrambling, then defeated. Before leaving, they politely typed: "I lost. But I won’t give up."

Lian huffed. "Ugh! Losing and still clinging on!"

"Exactly how did they ‘bully’ you?"

"Not telling."

"Did they say ‘If I win this Solo, be my girlfriend’?"

Lian gaped at me. "H-how’d you know?!"

I sighed. Predictable chuunibyou logic. Flaunting your strengths to impress girls backfires—your "strengths" might be their dealbreakers. I knew that well. By picking games, he’d already lost. Win or lose, he was doomed. Even chasing an internet-addicted girl.

"Is he ugly?"

Lian thought. "Dunno. Probably... pretty."

"*Pretty*? Don’t call guys ‘pretty’—it’s rude. If he’s good-looking, why refuse? You’re a looks-maxxer."

She punched my face, crimson-cheeked. "Who said it’s a *guy*?! It’s a *girl*! A woman trying to turn me gay! And you’re not helping—you’re *lecturing* me?!"

Huh? A chuunibyou lesbian? I’d heard of father-son duos, grandpa-grandson duos—but a *confession* duo? Where to even start? Especially when the admirer was genuinely lesbian. Mortification flooded me.

"Sorry. But we won, right?"

Lian snorted. "Tch. That woman’s a lunatic. If you’d lost, I’d have strangled you then killed myself. Turns out she’s just a terrible player. Next time, I’ll crush her myself."

The internet-addicted girl made her criminal declaration.

"Lunatic... isn’t that extreme?"

*(Truthfully: Who’s crazier than you?)*

"Then she’s psychotic. Only two options."

"Why?"

"Read it yourself!"

Lian shoved her phone at me. An email:

---

Dear [No Name],

Apologies for contacting you this way. I know who you are. If we hadn’t bumped into each other in the restroom, I’d never have realized we attend the same high school. You descended like an angel into my life. Sadly, by the time I recognized you, you were gone.

Since we’ve met, I’ll be blunt: I want to make you mine. So let’s Solo. Face me in the game you excel at most. I’ll make you surrender willingly.

Regards,

[No Signature]

[Contact Info]

---

No name. No signature. Just a string of contacts. This cryptic, chuunibyou-charged challenge letter oozed absurdity. I finally understood Lian’s frustration.

"I have no idea what she’s trying to say."

"Right?! I don’t even know who she is!"

"She seems clueless about you. Calling you ‘good at games’?"

"I *am* good! Just... not as good as you."

"Have you met in the girls' bathroom?"

Lian'er shook her head. "Can't remember."

I chuckled. "Then how do you know she's pretty?"

Ouyang Lian pointed to her eyes. "A woman's sixth sense!"

I rubbed my forehead, headache pounding. "I give up. I thought she was your classmate—turns out you're crazy too. Syncing wavelengths with her? Why even reply to spam like that?"

"She might be nuts, but she's honest! Even women swoon for my charm. I'm an angel! Rejoice and leap for joy to have a sister like me!" Ouyang Lian sat on the bed in hot pants, pale legs crossed, hair wild, bragging loudly.

"Look closely. She never mentioned an improper relationship—just said she wants to 'use' you. Ugh, that phrase alone gives me goosebumps. Is she a chuunibyou?"

Lian'er jabbed the tiny screen text. "Impossible! From our bathroom meet, her blatant words screamed her real intent. 'I want to use you'? I'm not a vibrator!"

Fine. You win. You're the dirty one—you talk first...

I couldn't bother arguing. Two brainy girls fawning over nothing. I exited the email app and spotted a subscription: "The Scholar's Forum." Must be Nan Dongye's campus forum. I clicked in.

A pinned post caught my eye—a blurry sunset photo. Under tree shade, a boy pedaled a bike hard, a girl clinging tightly to his waist behind him.

Normally, I'd mutter "screw all you real-life lovers," but my face darkened. That boy on the bike looked eerily familiar.

"This..."

"Snooping on your sister's phone? Hopeless siscon. Poor Sister Xiaoyu."

Lian'er's sarcasm missed its mark. Curious about my despair, she leaned in. Seeing the photo, her expression twisted into shock.

"This... is me?"

Ouyang Lian nodded, barely holding back laughter. "Mhm. A perfect yuri moment. I won't ask who that poor girl is."

Huh? Am I the only one seeing a boy and girl here? My hand trembled slightly.

Evergreen Goddess Returns—Shocking Yuri Revelation!

The title blared, followed by endless heartbroken emojis from viewers.

"I did say you're wildly popular at school, right, Brother?"

Lian'er smiled, lifting my chin with a finger. My brain short-circuited, collapsing into chaos. That glaring headline and heartbroken comments filled my vision. She whispered in my ear, "You rarely show up, but someone snapped you at the opening ceremony. This year's anonymous Evergreen Goddess vote? It wasn't our president—it was you..."