Nothing happened at all. Li Mo had doubted her intuition more than once.
It wasn’t just her gut feeling. Ever since childhood, whenever Tang Zhe looked at her with that thoughtful gaze, it meant he was brewing some scheme against her—or about to put it into action.
Even Wang Ziheng was unusually well-behaved. Since arriving at school, their groups had split up, and he hadn’t bothered her during breaks.
Whatever. No trouble was best. She’d just quietly be a lazybones, staying put in the classroom.
“Li Mo, wanna play Landlords in the dorm after this?”
As soon as afternoon nap ended, Li Mo’s old buddies approached her. After marching past the podium for the opening ceremony, they’d be free. They planned to slip away during the lineup and head back to the dorms for cards.
Li Mo didn’t need to join the ceremony—making it even easier. She could even cover for them. After all, the dorms weren’t open yet; they’d have to climb in.
“Ah… I’ll skip…”
No way was she entering the boys’ dorm now.
She’d never lived on campus. Walking into a room full of strange guys? She might faint on the spot. Cover for them? Yeah, right.
“I’ve got rehearsal at the multi-function hall later. Got a performance.”
“Oh, right… Sigh. Li Mo’s finally climbing the social butterfly ladder. Can’t hang with us losers anymore…”
“Hey… that’s not what I meant.”
True, her identity kept her from sticking with them. But hearing it from him felt weird. Li Mo wanted to explain—but he was clearly joking: “Just kidding! Rain check?”
*Yeah, rain check my foot.*
Finally got rid of those guys.
“Sigh…”
The classroom emptied fast—even Tang Zhe left. Only she, the shut-in skipping the ceremony, stayed behind. Listening to the performances outside, a wave of wistfulness washed over her.
This was the only time in senior year—the most memorable high school event—and she’d slept right through its start.
*My youth is over already.*
Bored, she pulled out her phone to game.
But no squad to duo with…
Her few online friends were all offline. She hated playing solo, except for that one dress-up MMO she’d maxed out.
Might as well check QQ. She hadn’t chatted in the group for ages.
Her QQ was basically just for messaging Tang Zhe. After that, she’d close it and scroll videos. It’d been a month since her last group chat.
*“Such a spicy topic? I’m joining IMMEDIATELY.”*
No clue what they were discussing, but as a two-and-a-half-year veteran, this line always worked.
If needed, she’d add:
*“I wanna be lewd!”*
*“NO LEWDING!”*
Sure enough, replies flooded in.
Someone even screenshotted the guild member list—cropping only her character’s icon. It showed she hadn’t logged on for two weeks.
Yep, this was her MMO guild chat.
As a shut-in, this game was the only place she could solo yet still find teammates. Joining the guild group was only natural.
*“Week 3 without Lynn online. Miss her.”*
*“❤️Lynn❤️～”*
*“Holy crap, you weebos are disgusting.”*
No real names here. Li Mo had zero worries—she could chat freely.
But she’d set her group nickname so clearly: “TrafficCop.” Wasn’t that obvious? Her character’s name meant “internet police,” not “cute little sister”!
She’d thought that back then. But her character was the game’s… mascot. Adorable. A weird name didn’t suit a daughter role, so she’d compromised.
Yet these damn guys treated every member like a little sister. Did they really think girls spent all day gaming and chatting in groups?
*“Lynn～～ Raid reset today! Support DD needed～ Hop on my team. Big bro’ll carry you free.”*
*“Piss off. With my gear, I can solo jungle runs easy. I can even slack off. Your team’s exhausting—you suck.”*
*“Brat.”*
*“…Crawl away.”*
These creeps! Every time she appeared, the chat turned toxic. Probably because she was the guild’s only mascot character—and her wardrobe was top-tier server-wide. Logging in daily in new outfits, looking ultra-cute… they couldn’t control themselves. Wild fantasies everywhere. She’d long insisted she was just a fat shut-in raising a virtual daughter.
Useless…
*“Raid tonight? Carry me, pros! My gear score meets requirement!”*
A new message popped up. Unknown avatar. New name. Low chat level—definitely a newbie.
*“Newbie? Group status -1.”*
*“Just started recently. Sadly rolled that guy. No one wants to carry me.”*
The guild leader explained, then added:
*“❤️Lynn❤️～”*
…
She was used to it. These freaks greeted each other like this.
*That guy…*
She suddenly thought of someone. She’d warned Tang Zhe not to pick that character during account creation. He’d ignored her. Wonder if anyone bothered to carry his poor avatar now.
Probably not playing anymore. She hadn’t logged on in ages—Tang Zhe likely quit too. Understandable. She’d recommended the game to many, but no one stuck with it. Sometimes she felt like a total shut-in herself.
*“Plus, National Day’s coming! Check the official event preview, bros…”*
The chat turned serious. After teasing the newbie (“Run while you can!”), Li Mo decided to log off.
National Day talk? No place for her. A social-phobe NEET like her only deserved the few days of holiday left after family duties.
*“Lynn’s event’s nearby. I’ll swing by—maybe ‘accidentally’ meet her.”*
*“Jealous.”*
*“Jealous.”*
*“Jealous.”*
What the hell?
She was about to dip, and this guy spewed such nonsense?
*Holy traffic cop!* Wasn’t he supposed to carry the newbie? Dreaming of fairytale meet-cutes now?
*“Where’s Lynn, big bro?”*
*“In…”*
Are these people insane?!
Done. Done! She slammed her phone into her pocket. One wrong word now, and she’d be trapped.
This had happened before—with another group. They’d joked about each other being shut-ins. That’s why she never took their “meet-up” talk lightly.
*That guy was there last time too!*
If this ever happened to her…
Her online life would be over.
