Mu Huai felt annoyed at Mu Xi’s miserable appearance, perhaps because he was the only person he could even consider family.
After dealing with this annoying family matter, he could probably finally sleep peacefully. Thinking this, Mu Huai returned to his room and lay down on the bed.
The hotel room had a very light smell. For someone with sensitive nerves, sometimes even the smell of detergent was annoying. The night was completely quiet, the clock ticking rhythmically.
Mu Huai’s leg dangled out, then retracted after a while, repeating this twice before he rolled over and lay flat on the bed.
The clock was still ticking. Mu Huai counted to sixty, then wearily closed his eyes. He searched for his phone under the pillows with his eyes closed, then found it. He turned it on, with the screen showing 3:40 AM.
His body was extremely exhausted, but his brain was still awake.
Mu Huai skillfully searched for a song to sleep. Both the music platform and WeChat were open, and Mu Huai had placed them in the same tab. After finding the music, he glanced at WeChat again, knowing there was nothing to do, but still scrolling through it.
Wow, quite a few people are still awake this late.
Many of the messages he’d replied to three hours ago had already responded. Mu Huai read them all—he just didn’t reply because this position wasn’t convenient for typing. The company was very dedicated. No one showed off their relationship in front of the boss, and even late-night messages were all work-related.
Mu Huai quickly scanned the pile of couples on his WeChat Moments, then went to the group chat.
He hadn’t been in a relationship for a long time. Being busy with work was one reason, but the main reason was that he constantly filled his time with work. Perhaps it was the strong Valentine’s atmosphere today, or perhaps he’d met too many people, but Mu Huai felt bored for the first time in a long time.
Everyone liked to say Mu Huai was a jerk. Some were just following the trend; some were joking, shouting loudly but not even knowing if Mu Huai had ever been in a relationship. And Mu Huai knew perfectly well that he really was a jerk. Often, from the very first day of a relationship, he subconsciously starts a countdown to the breakup in his mind, and once that time passes, all the feelings fade away.
Just like his mother.
Whenever Mu Huai thought of this, he felt nauseous. He loathed this resemblance from the bottom of his heart, and therefore avoided starting anything. Admiration was enough; he preferred the feeling of ambiguity, watching his beloved be possessed by someone else, and then feeling a pang of regret—punishing himself with that resentment.
The longer Mu Huai lay in bed, the clearer it became that this boredom was a longing for some kind of relationship. This realization irritated him and filled him with a hidden fear, especially since it was a holiday, and everyone was in a healthy relationship.
Work was simpler.
The group chat was full of night owls. There were still people online at this hour.
[File]
[This variety show project is quite interesting. Doesn’t Master Huai like playing games?]
[Please, Master Huai likes playing single-player games!]
[Huai-ge just likes to play, but he’s not good at it! That web series is still getting criticized for his acting. So, we can’t afford to be careless now. Maybe we should ask him secretly tomorrow?]
[Speaking of which, Huai-ge often watches game videos. Is it because he’s bad at it?]
[Anyone who’s played games with Huai-ge, come out!]
[Those who’ve played games with Huai-ge are all asleep.]
[I’m here, not asleep. Just finished playing. I’ve only played with Huai-ge a few times. His skill level depends on his mood. We don’t dare ask.]
[Hahahaha.]
[Delete! Delete!]
After sending this message, the previous messages started being deleted one by one.
Mu Huai was stunned. In just a short while, half the messages were deleted. Mu Huai quickly saved the project document. The person who sent the document hadn’t missed it, deleting it as well, leaving only a row of deletion reminders on the chat interface.
Mu Huai understood; so that’s how all those deleted messages came about.
After deleting all the messages, the company staff exchanged goodnights. Mu Huai’s fingers hovered over the keyboard for a moment, but he didn’t jump out to scare these night owls.
He didn’t mind their criticism of his gaming skills, because his attitude towards gaming was also terrible—his interest and skill fluctuated wildly. Mu Huai touched his nose and opened the file.
With his top-tier popularity, he received many offers to act, and the prices were quite attractive. Lan Sha, seeing his constant rambling, had considered getting him acting roles more than once, so she tentatively accepted a web series.
However, being a drama queen and acting are two different things. Mu Huai wasn’t just standing there blankly. It was just that his aura was there, and when he recited the lines of a domineering CEO, it always sounded convoluted.
The entire crew was praising him excessively, and he felt great after filming the whole series, only to be bombarded with criticism after the web series aired.
“Actually, everyone’s acting in the cast was just average,” Lan Sha commented. “It’s just that yours was bad in a flamboyant way.”
It’s as if she picked the script herself.
Mu Huai’s current goal is to quickly erase the terrible image left in netizens’ minds by the web series. If this variety show plan is good, he doesn’t plan to let it go.
This was just a preliminary plan. The general direction was a large-scale team training competition for online games. The game type was still yet to be determined, but several popular online games were within the selection range. Teams needed many amateurs who could play games. This category was clearly defined, and many famous game streamers were on the list.
Game streamers… I wonder if Yu Yi is on it.
Mu Huai subconsciously looked for Yu Yi’s name. The list was marked as preliminary and not very long. “Grumpy Yu-ge” was at the bottom of the list.
Sure enough, he is. With Yu Yi’s popularity and looks, it would be a mistake for the planners not to include him.
Recording a show with Yu Yi, watching him compete to join his team—just thinking about it was exciting. Mu Huai let his thoughts wander for a while, unconsciously looking at whether there were any skills Yu Yi was not good at in the game.
Yu Yi had many hobbies, but his skills were limited. Mu Huai picked some games, removed some too common or too general before sending them privately to Lan Sha along with the document. His energy waned, and he felt a headache coming on. Before going to sleep, he glanced at the time one last time—5:20 AM.
“Huai-ge, you’re really something.”
At 5:20 AM, Yu Yi struggled to drag himself out of bed.
He had set his alarm for 5:00 AM. He had fallen asleep immediately after returning from the concert and lingered for twenty minutes after the alarm went off.
He still looked utterly miserable when he got up.
Valentine’s Day was on a Saturday, a perfect time for either a date or a concert. But for Yu Yi, after the concert, this day was just the day before the deadline for his homework, meaning he only had one day to finish the assignment his classmate had been working on for a month.
Yu Yi, toothbrush in hand, glanced at the time, his mind full of thoughts: modeling, skeletal designs, and whether it was one monster and five people, or five people and one monster?
Grumpy Yu-ge’s three-day leave was common for his fans. But this time, the comments under his inexplicably ‘shh’ post on Weibo exploded for a long time.
He forgot to wish everyone a Happy Valentine’s Day.
Yu Yi looked at 5:20, took a screenshot, and posted it on Weibo.
Grumpy Yu-ge: [Image] [Happy Valentine’s Day.]
After a brief silence, the night owls finally arrived.
[Yu-ge?]
[Group photo!]
[Hahahaha, I bet he’s catching up on homework!]
[I thought I had a dream yesterday, but today is actually Valentine’s Day?]
[Tell me, did you stay up until now or are you awake now?]
[Why are you still awake so late!?]
[Same homework time as Yu Ge!]
[I naively thought Yu Ge was like me, unable to sleep after watching a concert!]
Yu Yi ordered a takeout, then turned on his computer. He glanced at the comments and switched to WeChat to find his homework.
College students might only have one or two private messages in their contact list, but group chats were usually around ten. To separate these messages, Yu Yi specifically created a separate WeChat account to manage them, in which he usually didn’t open: only checking it when he needed to do homework.
Yu Yi painstakingly navigated through the college group chat, finally finding and exporting the assignment given a month ago. There were too many messages to clear all at once, and Yu Yi found it annoying, so he deleted them one by one. He got stuck after deleting just two; his brain froze, and he slowly clicked on the message.
The memories of the previous day were too rushed after he got home, yet the memory was still jarring. His contact with Mu Huai had been abrupt, so rushed that when Mu Huai asked for his WeChat, Yu Yi was completely unprepared and could only give him this contact number.
The reason was simple: the QR code interface Mu Huai had presented him with was named “Mu Mu,” and his profile picture was a colorful fish.
Yu Yi’s other WeChat nickname was “Mu Mu, want some fish?”, and his profile picture was also a fish that looked delicious. He couldn’t possibly present such a bizarre image to him right after they had just awkwardly emerged from a toilet stall.
Besides, Yu Yi thought Mu Huai had added him on WeChat just to warn him not to tell anyone about what happened in the stall.
What was going on?
Yu Yi was briefly taken aback after seeing the message.
[File]
[Multiplayer competitive team-based games that fit the program’s requirements are suitable for team formation. I can play this type of game.]
[Did the organizers mention the training format? For example, the time and accommodation? Is it arranged by them or organized independently? Group accommodation would be more interesting, right?]
[I recognize some of the names…]
The message was sent at 5:20 AM, the time Yu Yi woke up.
Why did he sleep so late? Yu Yi frowned.
The tone and content didn’t seem to be directed at him. Yu Yi guessed he sent it to the wrong person. The message mentioned many streamers and games, and some names Mu Huai recognized appeared. Yu Yi suspiciously opened the file and glanced at it, then found his own name in the invites.
His streams were popular, and this wasn’t his first time on a game-related reality show. Yu Yi had been invited many times. He glanced at the planner’s name, then silently logged out.
He was certain Mu Huai had sent the message to the wrong person.
Yu Yi stared at it for a while without replying, then placed his phone on the bedside table and turned on his computer, as if he’d never seen the messages before.
Mu Huai felt terrible as he checked out at noon to catch his flight,
The aftereffects of insomnia were tough. He felt like he was after a hangover.
If Lan Sha were gentler, he might be more satisfied with his manager.
His head was genuinely dizzy, and he still had to listen to Lan Sha’s rambling. Mu Huai listened to her dialogue for a long time. And finally, when the work schedule arrived, Lan Sha still hadn’t mentioned the game reality show plan.
Did she not like it?
Mu Huai couldn’t help but ask, “Jie, what do you think of my gaming skills?”
Lan Sha: “How would I know?”
Mu Huai: “What if I participate in an online game reality show?”
His studio colleagues behind him all tensed up.
Lan Sha gave him a deep look: “It seems like there’s a project being planned recently…”
Mu Huai’s smile froze slightly. Something felt off.
He’d forgotten to charge his phone, and it had been off since morning. He overslept, so he just charged it with a power bank the whole way, so it should be usable now.
Mu Huai opened his phone and saw two chilling words at the top of his chat list: Yu Yi.
When people are in a trance, they’re prone to making mistakes. When Mu Huai was looking at the plan, his mind was filled with Yu Yi. When searching for names to send the file, he was thinking of Lan Sha, but searched for Yu Yi’s name instead.
He felt unusually embarrassed. He had been thinking about someone in the middle of the night, and then brazenly presented evidence to another person.
Master Huai was so embarrassed by his own actions that he wanted to jump off the plane.

