Reality
Chen Li’s wrist throbbed with pain from how tightly it was being gripped. He winced and tried to pull his hand back, voice trembling: “Gu Fu… Gu Fu!”
The upward inflection on the last syllable finally snapped Gu Fu out of it.
He quickly withdrew the darkness in his eyes, as if the moment before had been a mere illusion. With an apologetic look, he said: “Sorry, Li Zi, I was just too worked up.”
Chen Li pulled his hand back, eyes lingering on the red mark left behind. He still felt uneasy: “What’s wrong with you?”
A wild, absurd thought crept into his mind.
Could it be that… Gu Fu recognized the invitation card? Was he a player too?
As expected, Gu Fu’s next words confirmed his suspicion. He locked eyes with Chen Li and asked slowly and clearly: “Why do you have an invitation card from the Hearts Guild?”
Chen Li’s mind went blank for a moment, completely stunned by the direct question.
System 001 immediately blared a warning in his head: [Don’t let him know you’re involved with the game!!]
The sharp voice brought him back to his senses. Without thinking, he replied: “I don’t know. Someone just gave it to me.”
Gu Fu’s expression clearly showed he didn’t believe it: “Who gave it to you?”
Fu Moyang.
That name instantly popped into his head, but he couldn’t say it aloud. Fu Moyang was the top-ranked player—his name carried too much weight.
Seeing Chen Li hesitate, Gu Fu’s expression turned even more unreadable. He stepped closer: “Li Zi, you were chosen by Horror Game too, weren’t you?”
His words were pressing, step by step, but Chen Li didn’t notice the shift in tone—he was too nervous.
He wanted to shake his head, but couldn’t think of a good excuse. His pretty eyes welled with misty panic.
Gu Fu’s voice dropped, soft and coaxing: “Don’t be afraid. I’m one too.”
Chen Li’s expression gradually became numb.
No. We’re not the same.
Gu Fu continued: “Last time when you suddenly stopped replying to my messages—it was because you went into the game, wasn’t it? That was your first time?”
Though he phrased it as a question, he spoke with certainty.
Chen Li could no longer hide it. Compared to being mistaken for an NPC, it was safer to let him believe he was just a player. So, timidly, he nodded.
After all, with the system’s help, pretending to be a player in the real world wasn’t hard.
But what Gu Fu said next completely threw him again.
“Come with me into the next instance.”
Chen Li looked stunned on the surface, but inside, he was frantically poking at System 001.
[System, QAQ!!]
System 001: […Serves you right.]
It had always thought Gu Fu was shady. Who told the host to stay friends with someone like that?
Gu Fu misread his silence and smiled: “Don’t trust me? If we bind as teammates, we’ll be able to enter the game together.”
Chen Li stammered: “I… I…”
But for once, he reacted quickly. His eyes lit up: “I’ve already bound with someone else!”
Gu Fu’s expression didn’t change: “Li Zi, you probably don’t understand how the game works yet.”
His voice softened into something almost like a sigh: “You must have been really scared, back in the first instance… If I had been by your side, I definitely wouldn’t have let anything terrifying happen to you.”
Chen Li noticed the strange tone in his voice and opened his mouth to speak—but before he could say anything, Gu Fu pulled him into a hug.
Gu Fu rested his chin on Chen Li’s shoulder. From an angle where Chen Li couldn’t see, his eyes grew dark and deep: “Don’t worry. I won’t let anyone bully you.”
The familiar scent of pine from his best friend lingered in the air. After hearing his words, the still-unaccustomed Chen Li lifted his hand and gave Gu Fu’s back a gentle pat: “Thank you.”
Gu Fu had always looked out for him. He was truly a good person—willing to be friends with someone like him.
In a soft voice, Chen Li explained: “But I already have a teammate. He’s really strong and can protect me.”
Even though that “teammate” was completely made up, the image of Fu Moyang kept surfacing in his mind.
Gu Fu let go of him, his face filled with concern: “Li Zi, you’re new to the game, so you might not know yet—but there are a lot of scammers in this game. They’re good at sweet-talking newbies and using little tricks to make themselves seem impressive.”
He didn’t bother hiding his suspicion toward the so-called teammate. In truth, the moment he heard Chen Li say in that soft tone that someone would protect him, jealousy had already started to boil up inside.
Gu Fu didn’t give him a chance to respond and continued: “Do you know about the player leaderboard?”
Chen Li nodded: “Yeah…”
Not only did he know, he was even ranked among the NPCs.
Though currently, at the bottom.
Luckily, both the player and NPC leaderboards only showed the top 50—otherwise, it would be seriously embarrassing.
Gu Fu smiled: “Do you know what title I hold in the game?”
Chen Li shook his head, looking at him in confusion.
Gu Fu curled his lips into a faint, almost unnoticeably proud smile: “I’m ‘K’.”
The air fell silent for a few seconds. Chen Li blinked slowly, caught off guard.
Of course he was shocked. “K” wasn’t just second on the player leaderboard—he was also the leader of the number-one guild, Fox Hunt Guild.
But ever since meeting Fu Moyang, the impact of Gu Fu’s identity had dulled significantly.
System 001: …First place and second place both got involved with the host—what on earth did it accidentally bind to?!
To Gu Fu, Chen Li’s reaction looked like he was too stunned to speak.
Gu Fu’s lips curved up slightly: “So staying by my side is the safest option. As for your teammate, I can talk to him. Next instance, the three of us can go in together.”
If that person refused, he would make them ‘give up in the face of difficulties’.
His title had brought him too much flattery and praise—he never imagined Chen Li would say no.
After all, he wasn’t just a childhood friend, but also far stronger than your average player.
System 001: [At this point, refusing would seem way too suspicious. Just agree for now, host—on the condition that we pick the instance ourselves.]
Chen Li told the truth, and Gu Fu wasn’t surprised at all. He simply nodded and said: “You can pick one of the repeatable instances you’re comfortable with.”
As if suddenly remembering something, he added: “But it’s best not to choose one related to tourism.”
“Why?” Chen Li asked, not quite catching on.
Gu Fu narrowed his eyes: “There’s a new guide-type NPC that’s behaving strangely. Its first appearance was in a tourism-related instance. After it left, the core boss of that instance defected from the instance. I had the guild track down a newbie who participated in that instance, and we got a lot of information out of him. That NPC seems to be a type we’ve never seen before.”
Chen Li murmured: “Wait a minute…”
A bad feeling crept into his chest.
Why does this all sound so familiar?
System 001: [Congratulations, you’ve won the jackpot. He’s talking about your first instance. The one who defected was Sanna, and the newbie who joined his guild was Cheng Jun.]
From System 001’s tone, it was clear it was enjoying the chaos way too much: [Looks like you’ve already made quite a name for yourself in the player community.]
And the more famous the NPC, the better they are at collecting fear points.
Chen Li’s expression slowly turned numb. He gave Gu Fu a vague excuse about feeling unwell from pulling an all-nighter and sent him off. As soon as the door closed, he collapsed onto the bed and rolled around in frustration.
“Oh well, things will work out eventually,” he muttered, cheering himself up as his hair stuck up in all directions from all the rolling.
He took out a shiny medal from his pocket and looked at it.
Gu Fu had given it to him before leaving. As long as he wore it, they’d be able to enter the game together next time.
Chen Li carefully put the medal away: “System, how’s the Golden Butterfly competition coming along?”
System 001: [The preliminary are the day after tomorrow.]
“The day after tomorrow?” Chen Li was a bit surprised. “It’s still an on-site painting event, right?”
[There’s been a slight change,] System 001 replied after a pause. [It’s been turned into a livestreamed competition.]
“Livestreamed?” Chen Li tensed up.
He’d never liked crowded or public settings to begin with. A livestream meant countless people would be watching him.
Thinking he was worried about being flamed online, System 001 awkwardly tried to comfort him: [If anyone dares insult you, I’ll just ban their account.]
Chen Li smiled gently: “Thanks, 001.”
Caught off guard by the unexpected gratitude, the system stammered: [Y-You should really thank the father who created me and gave me this feature.]
And with that, it disappeared.
Chen Li lay on the bed, a quiet smile spreading across his face.
. . . . .
The day of the livestreamed competition arrived quickly. It was spread over four days, with 32 participants painting each day in front of a live camera, all within a venue provided by the organizers.
As luck would have it, Chen Li was assigned to the first day.
He brought his usual art supplies to the venue—a luxurious hotel room where a camera would capture his work throughout the day.
Contestants could leave the camera’s view to do anything else, but all actual painting had to be done in front of the lens.
As soon as the official Golden Butterfly livestream went live, viewership skyrocketed. Besides a few contestants with their own fanbases, most viewers swarmed into Chen Li’s room without hesitation. His rapid rise to online fame had brought both attention and a wave of skepticism.
Some were fans of a previously mocking influencer, some were just casual spectators, and others were drawn by his looks. The chat quickly became a chaotic mix of voices. But that only pushed him to the top of the trending streamer charts, drawing even more curious onlookers.
System 001 cracked its knuckles, ready to intervene: [Don’t worry, host. Just focus on your art. If any of these online trolls—]
Its indignant rant suddenly cut off.
Chen Li had just entered the room, stepping into view of the livestream camera: [What’s wrong?]
Chen Li felt a little uneasy when the system suddenly went silent. His round, almond-shaped eyes blinked, and a light flush colored his cheeks from rushing over.
The barrage of comments instantly flooded the screen.
[Stop spamming the chat, I’m trying to lick the streamer!!]
[That face! Golden Butterfly isn’t even using beauty filters—anyone still insisting on Photoshop?]
[Wifey!! My bitter melon tea just flew across the room, wuwuwu!]
[Streamer, debut now!! Also—who spilled bitter tea on my face?!]
The skeptical comments were instantly drowned in a sea of people thirsting over his looks. Any negative ones that did show up were swept away before anyone could read them.
System 001: […It’s fine.]
These netizens were terrifying. It didn’t even get a chance to step in.
Chen Li thought he’d be nervous, but in reality, his mind was already full of inspiration. The moment he arrived, he eagerly set down his art supplies.
Although the hotel had provided each contestant with their own tools, he still preferred his own.
Quietly, he unpacked and laid everything out one by one.
The viewers’ thirst moved from his face to his hands—they practically wished they were the brush in his fingers.
After getting everything ready, Chen Li finally remembered he was on a livestream. He turned toward the dark camera lens, gave a shy smile, and said: “Hello everyone, I’m going to start painting now.”
That one smile caused the chat to freeze for a second—then it exploded in a straight vertical spike. The whole stream basically experienced a mass AWSL moment.
Author’s note:
The painting competition is purely my own creation, designed to serve the story. It differs greatly from real-life art competitions—no offense intended to any readers in the field!
Let’s all give our sweet little Li Bao a big smooch 💋✨