Chapter 2764: The Online Game Master's

Cheng Lang took an ice beer from the fridge, heard the noise and turned; the door to the second bedroom opened, and Jin Chen stood in the doorway, his hat off, his hair a bit messy.

"Did I wake you up?" Cheng Lang said, a little apologetic, turning to lean against the fridge.

"No." Jin Chen shook his head, walked over and flicked on the living room main light, saw the worry between Cheng Lang's brows, and said, "I was just playing a game, not asleep yet."

"Oh, like that." Cheng Lang gave a small smile, shook his beer can, and said, "I'm just getting a drink."

Jin Chen didn't ask why he was drinking at this hour, and said softly, "Senior, let me prepare some hangover medicine for you—you drank a lot at dinner, you'll have a headache tomorrow."

Cheng Lang blinked, "No need," he shook his head and put the beer back in the fridge, "You're right, I still have my graduation project to work on tomorrow; drinking would mess things up."

He closed the fridge door, rubbed his face, and said, "I'll take a shower and go to sleep. Do you have class tomorrow?"

"Yes, a class at ten."

"That works out well," Cheng Lang smiled, "I'll be heading to school around that time tomorrow too; I can give you a ride, it's on the way."

Jin Chen's lips curved, his voice gentle, "Sure, thanks, senior."

"Don't mention it." Cheng Lang waved his hand, his mood seeming a bit better, "Then it's set—I'll call you tomorrow morning. Go to sleep now, young people shouldn't stay up all night gaming."

"You should rest early too, senior." Jin Chen deliberately ignored the second half of the sentence; they were logging off one after another, so neither would say anything to the other.

Having a roommate like this isn't bad either.

Cheng Lang thought that, grabbed his change of clothes, and headed toward the bathroom.

——

The next day, Jin Chen tidied up and left his room to see Cheng Lang coming out of the kitchen with breakfast—a simple crepe wrapped with lettuce and ham, and a glass of soy milk on the table.

The heating was on full in the apartment; Cheng Lang wore only a gray tight-fitting thin shirt, showing his full chest and firm arms, and he yawned while holding the plate with one hand.

Seeing Jin Chen come out, Cheng Lang's half‑yawn froze; he'd never seen anyone look so good in a white sweater.

The junior wore a white high‑neck sweater, standing there, clean as winter, almost like a cotton sprite.

"Good morning, senior." Jin Chen walked over to take the plate from his hand, "Thanks for the trouble, I'll handle it."

As he approached, a faint but lingering scent drifted into his nostrils; Cheng Lang inhaled, not knowing what it was, but it was distinctive and quite pleasant.

"Just a side note—the crepe might be a bit overcooked; make do with it."

Cheng Lang took a bite of his own portion and looked up across the table.

The junior ate neatly, his lips tinged pink from the steam, his fingers holding the cup clean and slender.

"Jin Chen, you're not from around here, are you?" Cheng Lang asked, looking for a topic.

They had talked a fair bit over hot pot the night before, but mostly about school, knowing little about each other's private lives.

Jin Chen swallowed his food, nodded, and said, "Yeah, my home is in the south, quite far away."

Cheng Lang recalled what he'd said yesterday—a southern kid who'd come alone to the north to study, still on the outs with his family; in this city he might as well have no one to turn to.

That warm, easily overflowing kindness in his heart welled up again, and looking at the junior eating breakfast quietly before him, he sensed a hint of loneliness as well.

"Winter here is pretty harsh," Cheng Lang softened his tone, "If anything feels uncomfortable later, just let me know."

Jin Chen lifted his eyes to him, his gaze clear and moist, "Okay, thanks, senior."

After finishing breakfast, they tidied up and prepared to head out.

Cheng Lang quickly pulled on a black short down jacket, zipped it to the top, which broadened his shoulders and lengthened his legs, making him look neat and energetic.

He caught sight of Jin Chen also wearing a white down jacket, with a light‑blue cashmere scarf; altogether he looked strikingly handsome—by Cheng Lang's reckoning, even the models filming winter spreads on TV were no better.

"Senior." Jin Chen suddenly called out to him.

Cheng Lang turned back, "Huh?"

Jin Chen stepped closer; they were about the same height, with Jin Chen a tad taller, and he reached out to loop another scarf—same style, white—around Cheng Lang's neck.

"It's cold outside." Jin Chen lowered his eyes, adjusting the scarf's tightness as he stood close; the scent enveloped them again, clearer than before.

Cheng Lang couldn't help but take another deep breath.

By the time he came to, the scarf was snugly wrapped, the soft cashmere against his skin.

Cheng Lang was usually careless, following his rule of not wearing a scarf unless the snow reached his knees—let alone now, when it hadn't snowed at all, so he hadn't even thought of digging out those scarves buried at the bottom of his closet.

"Thanks," Cheng Lang said, touching the scarf, feeling warm inside; he didn't refuse, and gave Jin Chen a friendly, half‑hug on the shoulder.

Jin Chen let him do as he pleased, a faint smile in his eyes, said nothing, and walked out together with him.

——

In his senior year, classes were few; Cheng Lang only had two required lectures in the morning, after which he would work on his graduation project and organize his internship materials.

He shouldered his laptop bag and entered the classroom; the heating was on full, and soon he grew hot, took off his down jacket, then after a moment's thought carefully untied the white scarf around his neck.

Cheng Lang hesitated, then instead of stuffing the scarve into his bag as usual, he folded it neatly before placing it in the side pocket of his backpack.

Sitting down and booting his computer, Cheng Lang, on a whim, lowered his head and lightly sniffed the collar of his sweater.

It seemed… he had also picked up a hint of that scent? Faint, almost imperceptible.

He then lifted his wrist to smell it.

"Why do you keep sniffing?" a head leaned over from the next seat; Xu Can joined in, "Did you spray cologne? Starting to care about your image? I can't smell anything."

"Get lost, I don't use any cologne." Cheng Lang laughed and shoved Xu Can's head away.

"Hey, how did that thing yesterday turn out? That mistaken‑person thing… Hua Yu, right? I asked around—he sounds like an arts‑school underclassman on leave, from a wealthy family, not in great health—you really don't know him?"

"Where would I even meet him?" Cheng Lang flared up at the mention, "It's pure bad luck."

"What about in the game? Have you found that Sword Light Cold yet?" Xu Can sighed, "You're a perpetual single dog—you can't really be taking the blame for someone else."

"Not found."

Cheng Lang twisted open his thermos, took a sip of water, and briefly recounted how Hua Yu had caused a fuss in last night's game, not noticing Xu Qian sitting with an empty seat between them, his face somewhat unnatural.

Since Xu Qian had run into Hua Yu yesterday confronting Cheng Lang, he'd been uneasy, never daring to log into the game; he hadn't expected the matter to blow up this big, and now he didn't dare admit that Sword Light Cold was him.

Xu Qian listened to Cheng Lang and Xu Can's exchange with pounding heart, thinking, Cheng Lang has ability and friends; if he's misunderstood a bit, losing some reputation, people will forget after a while.

But it's different for him—if he dares to go online and admit it, he'll never be able to play the game again; he might even get doxxed, and if Hua Yu causes a scene at school, it's over for him.

No, I absolutely can't say it—not only can't I say it, I also need to make this matter solid, and let Cheng Lang continue to be this scapegoat.

Xu Qian searched the class group photo album on his phone and quickly found two pictures of Cheng Lang's back view on the basketball court and in the library; they aren't especially clear, but someone familiar can recognize them.

He also found an old post from a year ago on the game forum, quickly edited it, replacing the original scenery photo with Cheng Lang's back view photo, and then saved it.

After doing all that, Xu Qian leaned back in his chair, palms sweating.

He kept reassuring himself: Cheng Lang definitely won't find that old post; Hua Yu is furious right now, and seeing this evidence will only make him more convinced it's Cheng Lang.

Wait for the wind to die down… wait for the wind to die down before saying anything.