Chapter 21

Ever since she learned that Bai Xingmiao was also a game fanatic, Ruan Ning felt a weight lift off her shoulders. She was introverted and awkward with people, but fellow gamers? That she could handle.

No one would believe it, but before her senior year of high school, Ruan Ning had been a moderately famous game blogger in her circle, with thirty or forty thousand followers online.

During the year she took off school to recover from illness, she'd spent days and nights gaming and posting videos at home, accidentally going viral and running a game blog for fun. If she hadn't been forced to stop updating in her senior year, she'd probably have surpassed a hundred thousand followers by now.

After getting Bai Xingmiao's game ID from Jiang Yihao, she didn't rush to log in. Instead, she searched around on various sites first—and unexpectedly found Bai Xingmiao's social page.

Bai Xingmiao's game ID was 0CeT, and a quick search online surfaced no shortage of his glorious achievements.

Ruan Ning's heart leaped into her throat, and she clicked in without pausing for breath.

The page had several hundred posts and over a thousand followers. But there was no personal information whatsoever—just a wall of dense game screenshots and records. Slightly disappointed, Ruan Ning felt like she'd stumbled into someone's private collection folder.

In the upper-left corner, aside from a minimalist white-line drawing avatar matching his ID, there was no signature—only a small blue icon indicating male. Clearly, this was a man who valued invisibility to the extreme, revealing nothing of his personality or preferences.

But his page's background image was refreshing—a photograph of an icy blue aurora glimpsed from inside a tent.

The composition was exquisite, the sky full of blue aurora as beautiful as a fairy tale. It was nothing like the corny AI-generated images her father's generation loved; it was clearly something this rich young master had shot himself while camping, radiating a lazy, world-weary elegance. Ruan Ning couldn't help zooming in for a closer look.

Scrolling further down, the screen was filled with the young master's fireworks-like record of achievements: rank-one in every major game's full server, first place in amateur tournaments, honors beyond counting. His win rate, headshot rate, consecutive win streak, kill-death ratio, and MVP count were all terrifyingly high.

Ruan Ning narrowed her eyes and scrolled lightly until she hit *Certain Death*. Then she sat up straight.

*Certain Death* was a classic first-person multiplayer tactical shooter made in Country A.

It was one of those rare games that didn't rely on social features or aggressive marketing—it simply tested pure mechanical skill. However, its player base was heavily polarized: the gods were godlike, and the scrubs were hopeless. Ruan Ning had played it for a while before quitting because the experience was too frustrating.

Bai Xingmiao was undoubtedly one of the gods.

Because right below, she spotted the certificate page for the official *Certain Death* tournament's full-server first place. The top comment was a congratulatory message from the game's official blue-check account, followed by thousands of adoring fan comments.

[Kneeling before our server's god (flower in mouth.jpg)]

[It's boss 00—no surprise there]

[Seen his streams. He's really something]

But Bai Xingmiao never replied to any of the comments, including the official blue-check account. The next day, he simply continued posting his own game screenshots, like a mindless forwarding machine.

Ruan Ning narrowed her eyes. This kid had some nerve.

She was usually timid outside, but the moment she entered the gaming world, that competitive streak she kept hidden deep inside broke free of its seal. Whenever she saw a skilled player, she itched to test herself against them—and the more arrogant they were, the more she wanted to challenge them. Now, looking at Bai Xingmiao, she felt a certain king-not-facing-king tension.

A smirk tugged at Ruan Ning's lips as she kept scrolling—then her pupils suddenly dilated.

The post showed the limited-time skin she'd painstakingly collected with 200 pulls. Bai Xingmiao had gotten the whole set in just 10 pulls!

Ruan Ning let out a yell and slammed her fist on the desk.

This guy was a lucky son of a gun!

Now she couldn't sit still at all.

She remembered how brutally she'd struggled to pull that skin. Tons of people had complained about 150 or 140 pulls without getting it, but she wanted to scream even louder—she'd spent over a thousand yuan and gone a full 200 pulls to hit the pity counter before finally getting it. No one in the entire server was unluckier than her.

And Bai Xingmiao, the duke's son whose wealth exceeded hers by a thousandfold, had gotten the whole set with a free 10-pull the game handed out, without spending a single cent!

Was there no justice in this world?!

Ruan Ning clutched her hair in agony, howling internally.

She didn't care if other people were better at games, because she was pretty good herself. But seeing someone who did nothing and still had rare skins, cards, and items delivered to their doorstep on a silver platter made Ruan Ning's heart ache like a needle prick.

Why was the world so unfair? Some people were born with silver spoons, and on top of that, they had godly luck—living their whole lives like an internal-test account, getting whatever they wanted, making her, a poor NPC strapped with a villainess system, seem even more pitiful.

Even though Bai Xingmiao was the son of her idol, after browsing his page, Ruan Ning's goodwill toward him had dwindled to almost nothing.

Just as Jiang Yihao had said, Bai Xingmiao was a hardcore game addict. The very night she found his page, Ruan Ning caught him online.

She was in the middle of writing a paper when a small glowing ring suddenly started spinning around his white avatar, indicating the account owner was live-streaming.

Ruan Ning immediately put down her pen and rushed in to see Bai Xingmiao streaming a game on the Desert map in *Certain Death*, single-handedly taking on five enemies hunting him down.

A master was a master. Bai Xingmiao's fluid performance looked less like playing a game and more like watching a 3D animated feature film with a nine-figure budget. Though the opponents were five in number and all ranked in the server's top ten, it was obvious they couldn't handle Bai Xingmiao at all—he was leading them around by the nose.

Every move Bai Xingmiao made looked like a special-effects scene painstakingly crafted by an army of animators, but it was all just him playing casually in real time. His rapid stop-and-go movements in particular—Ruan Ning watched for a long time, wondering just how nimble someone's hands had to be to pull off such godly stutter-stepping.

In the blink of an eye, Bai Xingmiao had eliminated all five and won a crushing victory, a huge "VICTORY" flashing in the center of the screen. The stream chat went absolutely insane with comments:

[666, as expected of full-server #1 boss 00]

[I haven't even ordered my food delivery yet and the streamer's already done]

[Streamer's got eyes in the back of his head—I didn't even see the guy behind the crate and he got a one-shot headshot]

The game then played Bai Xingmiao's MVP highlight reel, showing a global slaughter that was breathtaking from start to finish—clean, precise movements, speed and positioning that made viewers rub their eyes. The chat kept marveling: is this even humanly possible?

He's got some skill, Ruan Ning thought, propping her chin on one hand.

Without a second thought, she quickly logged into the game. Unfortunately, her old account had been inactive so long she'd forgotten the password, and *Certain Death*'s customer service was practically a decoration. In a rush, Ruan Ning registered a new account and, under the brand-new ID "Hardcore Lemon," barged into Bai Xingmiao's room.

The moment Ruan Ning stepped into the room, a tidal wave of disappointed protests erupted.

"A fresh noob? Matchmaking, are you serious?"

"Kick them. Bring in someone who can actually fight. 4v5 is a joke."

Even the opponents wanted her out: "No newbies! You'll just spray bullets everywhere and ruin the experience for the rest of us."

Ruan Ning let out a cold laugh, her eyes locked on Bai Xingmiao.

As the room host, he sat at the far left of the top row, a plain white avatar standing out among a mess of flashy avatars and skins—giving off the aura of a reclusive master, calm and detached.

The room was a standard 5v5 team-fight mode, and aside from Ruan Ning, every single player was above level 300.

Ruan Ning was placed on Bai Xingmiao's team, the last slot on the left of the top row, looking sorely out of place among the dazzling high-elite lineup. *Certain Death* was a game that worshiped skill above all, where life and death hung by a thread. It wasn't uncommon for a match that was already won to turn into a total wipe because of a clueless newcomer, so newbies were unwelcome everywhere. When Ruan Ning first started, she'd been kicked over a dozen times before she found a room that would keep her.

But no amount of objection from the masses could outweigh a single word from the room host—after all, he was the one with the power to kick.

Ruan Ning watched the white avatar with slight nervousness. Surely Bai Xingmiao wouldn't judge people by their level too.

The screen went black. The game began.

The teammates' wailing turned into in-game chat spam: "Boss, what are you doing?! Why'd you let them in? This match is lost!"

Ruan Ning's brow furrowed as she flexed her wrists.

This map was set in a rural farmstead—simple-looking terrain, but full of hidden pitfalls. It had been a while since Ruan Ning last played, so her hands still felt a bit rusty at the start.

Unlike her teammates, who immediately charged out of spawn to loot nearby supply crates, she stayed put, shuffling side to side and testing weapons to get a feel for her aim.

Seeing her red dot still spinning in place on the map, the three teammates mocked her over voice chat: "Just crouch somewhere safe, kid. Don't come out and get in the way."

Ruan Ning's wrists tightened, joints cracking. If it weren't for wanting to hear Bai Xingmiao's voice, she'd have ripped her headphones off already.

The reason she'd quit this game back then was that the full server had basically no teamwork, strategy, or tactics. Most players were reckless and brainless—no cover, no gadgets, no movement tech, just dry-peeking straight into gunfights. It was everyone for themselves, and if someone was willing to split roles—one guarding a door, one flanking behind, one getting picks—that counted as a well-coordinated team.

As the game opened, while Ruan Ning was still at spawn getting a feel for her controls, her three teammates on the east lane had already full-geared and braindead-rushed forward, getting mowed down by the enemy. It was the exact style of play Ruan Ning despised most: no recon, no observation of enemy positions, no tactics—just charging in with guns blazing and meat-grinding against the enemy.

[Your teammate xx has been eliminated by the enemy]

[Your teammate xxxx has been eliminated by the enemy]

[Your teammate xxx has been eliminated by the enemy]

Ruan Ning let out a soft scoff.

The three teammates went berserk over voice chat: "Newbie, why aren't you pushing?! Sleepwalking in broad daylight? Are you even a man?"

Ignoring their furious cursing, she found a forward pre-aim position, braced her gun, and guarded the pit while listening to the voice comms. Even now, she still had no idea what the mysterious Bai Xingmiao sounded like. But the voice chat was just the three teammates screaming their heads off—Ruan Ning figured Bai Xingmiao found them annoying too.

The three teammates cursed even louder: "Why the hell are you playing *Certain Death*? Go home and do your homework. Elementary schoolers shouldn't be playing this."

Ruan Ning couldn't be bothered to respond. Just then, an enemy crept up sneakily, and Ruan Ning blew their head off in the span of a millisecond.

The three teammates roared over the comms: "Holy shit!"

They'd charged in hot-blooded and died on arrival, while Ruan Ning casually one-tapped a kill, making them look even worse. Refusing to accept it, they grumbled, "Just blind luck. Careful you don't get one-shot yourself."

Then more enemies came one after another to avenge their fallen comrade. Ruan Ning slipped smartly behind cover, quickly re-peeked to headshot one, then followed up with a mid-air pick—two kills in under ten seconds.

The three teammates were utterly stunned, completely converted, and did a full 180 on their attitude.

"666! Insane!"

"God, please carry me!"

"God, I'm sorry—I spoke too loud earlier."

Meanwhile, Bai Xingmiao had also taken down two enemies on his side, and a few lines of text flashed rapidly across the screen.

[You have eliminated enemy xxxx]

[You have eliminated enemy xxx]

[Your teammate 0CeT has eliminated enemy xxxxxx]

[Your teammate 0CeT has eliminated enemy xxx]

Having taken down three enemies in one go, Ruan Ning became the MVP of the match, and the screen displayed her spectacular highlight reel.

The three teammates groveled at her feet, but Ruan Ning just snorted coldly, the corners of her mouth curling up as she stared at Bai Xingmiao's white avatar.