Bai Ningning slightly parted her lips, unable to close them for a long moment.

What? What what what?

My benefactor… it’s already gone?

“Why merge it… and why ranked the lowest?”

It’s an anime club, for goodness sake! Even if it couldn’t beat Gaming or Music Club, how could Video Production and Otaku Dance Club outrank it?

She’d heard of them. “Video Production” was just a fancy term—a club founded by a few Uppers.

Otaku Dance Club? Same thing: dance-section Uppers.

“The merger happened because some clubs were too small, like UP Club and Otaku Dance Club,” Qin Xin said, scrolling the school forum. “Anime Club was worse—not few members, but never did anything.”

More people meant bigger rooms, venues, resources. So the club consumed without contributing. Awkward status, naturally.

Bai Ningning sipped her straw silently, words stuck in her throat.

“Even gone, Senior can join the merged club,” Lan Lan smoothed things over. “Otaku Club—it sounds nice.”

“Yeah,” Bai Ningning sighed. “Everything’s… fine.”

Sensing her mood, the underclassmen stayed quiet. After finishing milk tea, they parted at the shop door.

“Senior Bai, remember to take us shopping tomorrow!”

“Bye, Senior!”

“See you tomorrow, Senior~”

Qin Xin walked her a short way before waving. “See you tomorrow, Senior Ningning.”

“Mm. Bye.”

As her senior faded into the distance, Qin Xin stood still, watching that graceful silhouette for a long time.

That faint sorrow in Senior Ningning’s eyes while sipping tea had quietly etched itself into her heart.

Senior Ningning… do you carry a hidden story too?

“Qin Xin! There you are—cafeteria’s open, let’s eat!” A roommate approached.

“Oh, and Qin Xin,” another added, “this semester’s campus beauty rankings? You’re near the top in several.”

Qin Xin’s face tightened. She quickened her steps. “Don’t say it. Let’s go.”

“Huh? Don’t you want to see? I’ll pull it up—”

“No! Don’t. Hurry up!”

She’d heard her sister’s company nailed another big project.

Imagine: at the next family gathering, relatives raising glasses—“Congrats to President Qin for leading the group to glory!”

Then turning to her: “And congrats to Second Miss Qin for ranking high in Xicheng University’s beauty contests!”

Qin Xin’s steps wobbled. Almost lost balance.

PTSD kicked in.

...

When Bai Ningning got home, Qin Yue wasn’t back yet. She dashed into the bedroom’s inner room and hauled out the laptop.

No choice—she had no computer, didn’t know other passwords. Only this one worked.

She changed into loose pajamas and tiny sleep shorts, flopped onto bed, propped the pillow under the white ball… wait, no—wrong thing. Just her pillow. Then she focused.

“Stay calm. Good news: my old account wasn’t ID-bound. Used old security questions. Easy to recover.”

Opened QQ. Entered familiar credentials. Triggered unusual login alert. Security center. Verification.

[Q1: Your pet’s name?]

Shiina Mashiro.

[Q2: Homeroom teacher’s name?]

Koro-sensei.

[Q3: Mother’s name?]

Kokkoro.

Cool-faced, Bai Ningning typed the three otaku names. Let out a soft breath.

Success.

Logged into her true QQ, she searched for the club group—but pinned chats kept tagging her.

Curious, she clicked.

[Sunshine Love]: @xxx, rest in peace. May heaven have no small trucks.

[Heartbeat Out of Rhythm]: @xxx, past is past. Wishing you peace next life.

[I’ll Always Love Kasumigaoka Utaha]: @xxx, no offense. Rest in peace.

[Want to Be Miss Jiaran’s Dog]: @xxx, RIP (#praying hands)

Bai Ningning silently muted group notifications.

After digging through mourning messages, she found “Xicheng University Anime Club.”

99+ messages—but last post was days old.

She opened it, puzzled.

[**]: Things ended this way. No need to grieve. Heaven leaves a path.

[*****]: Yeah… sadness won’t fix it.

[*]: Enough. Talk happy stuff.

[&…*]: Lemme post lewd pics to lighten mood.

(Picture) (Picture) (Picture) (Picture) (Picture)

[This QQ group has been banned.]

Oh. Banned. No wonder I couldn’t find it.

With a heavy heart, she messaged the old club president.

[xxx]: President, are you there?

Reply came ten minutes later.

[President]: Here. What’s up, Xiao X?

Phew. President must’ve been busy—never saw the school groups. Didn’t know “she” was “gone.”

[xxx]: Just… our club got merged.

[President]: Heard. Our old way doesn’t work now. Being phased out is normal.

[xxx]: Doesn’t work?

[President]: Yeah. Public opinion’s totally changed.

Back then, they’d timidly admit: “I’m otaku. I like anime.”

“Oh, *that* kind of otaku?” “Haha, still watch cartoons?” “Naruto? SAO? I like those too!” “You… have feelings for anime girls? Ew~”

Now? They declare proudly: “So what if I’m otaku?” Rocking anime-print T-shirts of their 2D waifus, clutching KFC Genshin buckets, strutting anywhere—as bold as can be.

“Otaku?” Hell no—I’m all about “meeting in another world and savoring delicious meals”!

[President]: Clubs like ours aren’t needed anymore. The world’s all otaku now. No need for a quiet safe haven.

[President]: No boat in this new era carries us anymore. (#crying-laughing) (#crying-laughing)

Not… needed anymore?

Bai Ningning closed QQ. Hugged the white ball… wait, no—wrong thing. Just her pillow. Tears streamed down her face.

Sniffle… sniffle…

Qin Yue returned from her project team’s victory celebration. Entered the bedroom. Saw Bai Ningning in light sleepwear, hugging her laptop, tear-streaked face. Stunned.

“What’s wrong? Scammed in an online romance?”

No way. You tricked me so thoroughly—is someone out there with even higher skill?

“No,” Bai Ningning lifted her reddened eyes. “It’s… just something on my mind.”