Even as smart as Luo Zishang was, he couldn’t have foreseen that the Red Medicine Hall that killed the knight captain was a casual player, while the Red Medicine Hall he faced by the White Dragon River was one who had cut her nails and treated the game like the WCG. The humiliated Luo Zishang retreated back to his country, leaving behind a message: “Cang Hai, you fool, wait for me; I’ll come back for you in a year!” The entire nation of Great Xia rejoiced, but Su Yao did not accept the king’s scepter. Even under Ji Canghai’s fervent pleas, she only agreed to remain in her position as the national teacher to help him rebuild the nation. Managing cities and citizens, reclaiming lost territories, constructing infrastructure, and expanding territories were all minor tasks for Su Yao, a former WCG runner-up in StarCraft. In terms of strategy, she was no less than Luo Zishang. The once impotent Great Xia rose again. From decline to revival, from revival to prosperity, from prosperity to dominance, half a year passed in a blink. Su Yao seemed to have grown accustomed to her responsibilities as a national teacher. Ji Canghai was always at her service, fully supporting her. Su Yao’s capabilities earned the respect and admiration of all the citizens of Great Xia, including Ji Canghai.
Even though her ideal image had crumbled, a lingering shadow in her subconscious made it hard for her to accept other men. Fortunately, Ji Canghai was persistent. He would drive from the neighboring city during a heavy snowstorm just because she mentioned in the game, “I’m not feeling well today, I’m logging off first.” He would find every possible holiday to send gifts and love letters to Su Yao. On nights when Su Yao was upset or had a bad day at work, he would stay with her late into the night. All the romance and tenderness that a male lead in a romance novel could offer, Ji Canghai had done. Su Yao had never been cherished so much by a man before. Liu Changsi said, “Canghai is so good to you, what more could you want, Su Yao? When Canghai’s car was rear-ended and he ended up in the hospital, you dropped everything to go see him. Look at how worried you were; I even had to log you out of the game.” Su Yao fell silent for a moment. She was used to supporting him, shielding him from the storms, accustomed to her role as the National Teacher, standing in the shadows while he basked in the spotlight. She liked watching him, this gentle and romantic man. He might not be good at playing games, but that was okay; he understood life.
How could a game compare to reality? Everything he did in real life genuinely touched her. Who said that being good at games makes one worthy of love? The last lingering doubts in Su Yao’s heart faded away, and she accepted Ji Canghai’s proposal. Being with him, she felt very happy and warm.
Chapter Four: Scum, Scum, Scum
Ji Canghai said he would spend 200,000 ingots to host the most luxurious wedding in the game, making her the happiest bride in the world. Indeed, Ji Canghai was wealthy, but Su Yao believed that many things couldn’t be commemorated with money alone. So, she worked five all-nighters, mining and logging to gather materials, crafting a pair of dual moon rings for their wedding. Ji Canghai’s in-game class was a Silver Moon Warrior, while Su Yao’s class, the Divine Shadow Thief, was marked by a dark moon shadow. The rings, one bright and one dark, symbolized their partnership: one shining brightly, the other aiding in the shadows, inseparable, never abandoning each other. She loved these rings and eagerly anticipated her wedding.
Ji Canghai said that once he finished the project he was working on, he would come to her city. He told her he loved her, both in the game and in reality, and wanted to spend his life with her.
“On this day, confessing to your crush successfully and uploading a screenshot to the game’s event page could earn you high-level equipment, scrolls, elixirs, and more. The game company would also let players vote for the “Most Touching Confession of the Year,” rewarding the couple with the rare “Divine Outfit.” Currently, the only way to get it was through a lottery with ingots, with an extremely low probability. One player posted angrily on the forum about spending nearly 100,000 and only getting the left shoe of the outfit, calling it a scam. People sympathized and mocked him in equal measure.
Su Yao wasn’t interested in the outfit; in her eyes, no equipment was as useful as good gameplay. But the game “Human Realm” was still in its prime, with a bright future ahead. In past Confession Days, Su Yao had been an enthusiastic voter for others, but this year, she became the protagonist.”
Ji Canghai’s confession and proposal screenshots, posted on the event page, received an overwhelming number of votes from the citizens of Daxia, and even international players were moved by their love story, voting for them. Despite attempts to buy votes, their lead was unassailable.
As Su Yao entered her office, she received a text message:
[Dear “Red Medicine Hall” player, congratulations on winning first place in the annual Confession Day for the most touching confession. The priceless “Divine Outfit” has been placed in your account’s warehouse. Please check. Best wishes for your gaming enjoyment from all the staff at Human Realm.]
[Haha, did you get the message?]
Su Yao quickly texted Ji Canghai back, thinking that wearing the Divine Outfit for their wedding would be a great choice. “Su Yao, are you planning to quit or something? You’re still laughing… Even if you’ve completed this month’s workload, you can’t be late, what kind of example are you setting?” As soon as she walked into the office, her phone beeped again. Before she could check it, her boss started his tirade. Su Yao wished she could activate an invisibility buff… but reality wasn’t a game, so she had to bow her head like a submissive.
“I… I went for surgery,” Su Yao said meekly, feigning pain.
Her boss raised an eyebrow, skeptical. “I seem to recall you had your appendix out just the other day?”
“It’s true!” Su Yao insisted earnestly.
After her boss vented his frustration, he still seemed dubious but didn’t press further. Su Yao breathed a sigh of relief, sat down at her desk, and while turning on her computer, she opened the message.
[From “Ji Canghai”: Yes, Yao Yao, thanks to you, I finally got the outfit :D.]
[I also made the rings for our wedding, I’ll show you tonight.]
Su Yao replied happily. But when the next message came after a while, she was stunned:
[From “Ji Canghai”: Wedding? Haha, didn’t you know, National Teacher, that I only proposed to you for the outfit?]
What? Is this a scam? What kind of shit is this? Is this really Ji Canghai she knows? For a moment, Su Yao couldn’t believe her eyes. She never dreamed Ji Canghai would pull such a stunt on her. He clearly wasn’t that kind of person. Su Yao felt a tightness in her chest; she sent several messages in a row to inquire, but they all went unanswered. Ji Canghai no longer responded to her calls as readily as he used to. This man, whom she had to admit she had fallen in love with, suddenly seemed distant and unfamiliar. Su Yao forced herself to take deep breaths to calm down, but looking at the phone screen, she couldn’t accept the reality.