Song Qian dropped off lunch for Churan, then rushed back to school for classes.

Churan stayed leisurely taking commissions with Lengjiang. Not long after, his QQ pinged.

Churan rarely used QQ, but given Song Qian’s “media spread speed,” it likely reached that person…

Sure enough, Churan’s cousin messaged him shortly after Song Qian left. Churan replied carefully, but his cousin reacted just like Song Qian—utterly disbelieving he’d actually calmed down.

After repeated probing and various attempts, Churan showed no “cracks.” His cousin reluctantly gave up, still skeptical.

As for his aunt and uncle, Song Qian and his cousin would probably mention it. Churan just needed to text them—reassuring them it wasn’t serious, just requiring long-term recovery to ease their worries.

Then Shallow Peace’s QQ friend request popped up. Churan wasn’t surprised, but…

“Sis An, does Lengjiang… know?” he typed tentatively. Even adorably clueless Lengjiang had noticed his mood. His first thought: had she told her?

“No. I haven’t told her anything—not even about visiting you,” Shallow Peace replied.

So Lengjiang had figured it out alone.

Better she didn’t know. If Lengjiang learned her only friend had this issue… Churan couldn’t imagine her spiraling into depression.

“Then… let’s keep it secret. No need to tell her,” he sent. He didn’t want anyone worrying—especially not Lengjiang.

“Mm. I know. I won’t spread it either.” Shallow Peace had always operated covertly; few knew her moves.

“Feeling better now?” she asked. She’d noticed his mood lifting after talking with Lengjiang.

“Yes.” He didn’t deny it. His heart felt lighter, though worries about the future lingered. Overall, much better.

“Good. The contract can wait. I need to test you first.” Her tone shifted mysteriously, as if Churan could hear it through the screen.

“…” He stared blankly at his monitor. Why did he feel set up again?

They’d already offered the contract—why another test?

What kind of test? He couldn’t run or jump…

Tutoring required literary skills, sure. But from Shallow Peace? Nothing was ever simple.

Honestly, Churan was nervous. Shallow Peace’s capabilities were beyond his league. In-game, Xiaoye knew everything—despite being a solo player with no guild. How else had she known “Butterfly Shadow’s” boss-raid strategy?

Later, Xiaoye kept appearing at critical moments to bail him out. Not just skill—her intel network was unreal.

And she was just a solo player!

From this alone, Shallow Peace was a powerhouse. Comparing himself to her… pointless.

“Uh… Sis An, can I ask about the… content first?” This rare chance to work like a normal person—he couldn’t afford to lose it. Shallow Peace clearly meant it for him.

Tutoring wasn’t hard. The tricky part might be interacting with Lengjiang.

This morning’s voice chat confirmed she was painfully shy. Actually meeting her…

Wait—Churan suddenly wondered what Lengjiang looked like.

He slapped his head, shaking off the thought, and focused on the screen.

Right. Shallow Peace would test his knowledge.

“Mm. In-game. Don’t rely on ‘Sentinel Tomb.’ You and Lengjiang infiltrate ‘Night Castle’ together. First test.”

Churan blinked at the message. Was this… really a test?

What was it testing?

Shallow Peace was always mysterious but ruthlessly efficient.

Why an in-game test for a tutoring contract?

Did tutoring require gaming skills?

????

And what were they doing at Night Castle?

This was only the first test…

Where even was Night Castle?

Clueless, Churan checked the map. Night Castle sat at the northern tip of Eternal Night City—a safe zone. Was this… a test?

Safe zones meant no city-blockades, right?

But coming from Shallow Peace, every step hid traps. She’d banned “Sentinel Tomb” for a reason—this test involved blockades.

He didn’t grasp her plan, but he had to try. A job would ease his aunt and uncle’s worries, making them believe he’d recovered.

This contract was vital. He’d fight for it. Bizarre test or not…

Well, as long as it wasn’t impossible, he was grateful.

“Start now?” he messaged. It was noon—plenty of time. Lengjiang seemed free too.

“Whenever. I’m on a rare out-of-province trip. Want to sightsee,” she replied.

Sweat beaded on Churan’s forehead. She’d really traveled out of province…

Such effort couldn’t just be for a contract. Was this job redundant?

Still, he admired her calm. Despite his state, she’d comforted him and brought this opportunity. He was deeply grateful.

She made him feel the “meaning of being alive.” How could he not thank her?

He read her reply, a chill down his spine. “Can I ask… what this test has to do with the contract?” Honestly, Shallow Peace was the second most intimidating person he’d met—after his homeroom teacher. He always tread carefully.

Silence. No reply. His scalp tingled. Had he triggered a landmine?

“Building a house.” Three cryptic words.

“Huh?” Churan stayed baffled. Building a house?

He recalled the game’s housing feature—blueprints, rare materials, quality tiers. He’d never tried it.

But if weapons allowed custom designs, housing might be like “Minecraft.” Could you build castles? Cities?

“Do you want my sister sleeping alone on the streets?” Shallow Peace replied. Churan’s eyelid twitched.

If they entered the game via VR later… sleeping in-game made sense?

“This game gets VR soon. You understand?” she added, sensing his confusion. “Besides, you two vowed. Aren’t you preparing for the next step?”

The next step…

Churan knew she meant post-“wedding” in-game. Just a game, but that experience…

Wasn’t it too intense for them? Her “tutoring plan” felt like something else entirely.

His hands gripped the blanket, sweating. What was her real goal?

“Relax. Excelling here won’t hurt you. If not this game, what else can you do?” Her message cleared his doubts.

Churan and Lengjiang had no other options. Reclusive Lengjiang couldn’t face society. Churan’s health barred him too.

Gaming was their only path to independence. Late-game perks were lucrative with skill.

Overthinking was useless. Only two choices: sign or not.

His health permitting, he’d strive for independence. Shallow Peace had thrown him a lifeline—he’d fight for it.

“Yes. I’ll give it my all.” He didn’t know her hidden motives, but they likely weren’t harmful. Set up or not…

At least there was hope.

“Mm. Go now. Pass the test, and I’ll send someone to fetch you. Focus on the test—I’ll handle the rest.” Her decisiveness felt reliable.

“Also.” A sudden twist. Churan’s heart lurched. What now?

“I have people monitoring you. Stay up late, and you fail by default.”

“…”