2:24 AM.
The dim room glowed only with the light from electronic devices. From the monitor’s speakers, the playful standby character’s voice chimed in now and then.
“Big Hilichurl’s sick, Little Hilichurl tends to him, Third Hilichurl gathers herbs…”
But the beautiful girl in the chair, her high ponytail tied up, had no energy left for her favorite character. Her lovely eyes were heavy with exhaustion.
She expertly exited that two-character game.
“Finally done grinding…”
She let out a long sigh, picked up her cracked Xiaomi phone from the desk, and propped her legs on the gaming chair, leaning back.
Compared to before, she was noticeably smaller now. The compact chair easily held her whole body.
Opening her WeChat clone account—with its stark profile pic reading only “Grinding Service”—Hua Xin’s eyes flickered with hope as she opened the chat window.
Hua Xin: “Boss, I’ve finished 100% exploration this time…”
She set the phone on its stand, cupping her face cutely while waiting for a reply. But her eyelids fluttered rapidly; sleepiness crashed over her.
“Is it too late…?”
“He’s probably asleep already.”
Hua Xin muttered softly, disappointment clouding her eyes.
Rarely leaving home, she survived on odd online gigs: grinding that two-character game and its six-character sibling from the same dev, editing videos, photoshopping images, or doing AI voiceovers for comics.
After utilities, she usually had leftovers each month—no risk of starving. But work dried up sometimes, so savings were essential.
Ten minutes later, the phone screen finally lit up.
Hua Xin’s drowsiness vanished. She snatched the phone.
I Love Playing QQ Speed: “Fully explored everything?”
Hua Xin typed fast: “All 100% done. Boss, just transfer the 300 yuan we agreed on.”
Send.
No transfer came. Instead, a glaring “❗” popped up beside her message.
The girl froze.
Was she… being scammed?!
Where were all the good people online? Where were the good Samaritans everywhere?
“I Love Playing QQ Speed, you bastard!!” Hua Xin yelled, fingers trembling as she pulled up his profile and drafted a new friend request.
“Boss, please don’t skip payment. My grandpa and I rely on each other—we survive selling tea and grinding games. Just pay me for this job. Even half is fine…”
The phone’s glow highlighted the tear-streaked face of the ponytailed girl.
Like a real-life sorrow-drowning clown 🤡.
Meanwhile.
At a small barbecue joint in Yongji District.
A guy with an ear piercing set down his Blue Fairy drink, laughing at the new friend request.
“Xia Yan, check this out—funny stuff. This clown’s making up tea-selling stories. Any other excuse, and I’d have added her back out of guilt.”
Xia Yan frowned, then relaxed into a smile. Skimming the message, he said softly, “Mu Feng, you’re not broke. Why scam her?”
Mu Feng chuckled, downing his wine. “Just wanted the thrill of skipping payment.”
“Everyone else pays deposits upfront for grinding. She only takes cash after.”
“If not her, who else…”
Across from Mu Feng, a tall athletic guy in white socks and Air Jordans—holding a fragrant bullfrog skewer—sneered, “Ignore him, Xia Yan. ○ players are like this.”
“Their brains are full of Originium all day. Can’t tell reality from fantasy. Always babbling about dollar links.”
Mu Feng shot back, “Xiang Guan, you fire-batch idiot, shut it.”
“Take your invincibility frames and run 100 meters in 59 seconds with clear water.”
“○ players are like this,” Xiang Guan retorted calmly.
Xia Yan watched the bickering pair, his handsome face weary but unsurprised. He took a sip of his drink.
After the college entrance exam, they’d found each other via the school app’s dorm listings. All three were in Shanghai, so they hung out often. Tonight, Xia Yan had called them to finish leftovers at his part-time barbecue stall—late-night crowds were thin. The fourth roommate? Unreachable. They’d sort it out after school started next week.
Buzz. His phone lit up.
Xia Yan unlocked it, puzzled. Who messaged at this hour?
Invincible Cat Fist: “I’m gonna kill you.”
“…”
Him again.
Scrolling up, he saw their chat from days ago: after he’d shared his address, she’d gone silent. Now, random rants again.
Should’ve skipped that solo match…
Still, Xia Yan hadn’t deleted her.
Checking in was oddly fun.
“Xia Yan, chatting with who? Some pretty girl?” Mu Feng teased, watching him type. With his looks and charm, Xia Yan must’ve had plenty of girls.
“Just an online friend.”
Xia Yan smiled and set down his phone.
“Tch… boring.”
Back to the little otaku girl’s room.
Hua Xin’s tears fell freely. Seeing the game’s huge “Wrong Password” error pushed her heartache to its peak.
He hadn’t even let her delete the account…
She sniffled, her fair face tear-streaked, watery eyes red-rimmed.
So mean…
So incredibly mean…
“Wah!” Hua Xin flopped onto the bed, buried her face in the pillow, and sobbed loudly. 😭😭😭😭
“I’ll kill you, QQ Speed 😭, I’ll kill you, kill you, kill kill kill kill… cough cough.”
Choking, she sat up, patted her chest, then kept crying and vowing revenge.
This was her big order…
300 yuan could buy so much—not just digits in WeChat.
After a while, she wiped her nose, its tip pink.
The winking Hu Tao plushie beside her offered no comfort. It seemed to mock her.
Hua Xin: “…”
She almost cried again.
Lashing out, she stomped her slender foot on the innocent blanket, trampling it in helpless rage.
“Kill you, crush you, kill you, get you…”
Beep beep beep. A computer message halted her rampage.
Online’s Number One Son: “Stop cursing. Go to bed.”
“At least you have a conscience…”
Hua Xin muttered softly, unusually silent after that.
She shut down the computer, lay in bed, and pulled the blanket up to her navel.
Twenty minutes later, she sobbed anew.
“My 300 yuan… 😭😭😣🥺🤧”
