Getting her into trouble

Tap-tap-tap!

The keyboard clattered in a chaotic, disorderly rhythm.

Driven by the “incompetent fury” of a certain white-haired loli, she was currently mashing the keys in a frenzy. Xu Feng had promised Jiang Yun she’d get online, and she had, but she’d overlooked one major problem: her muscle memory was gone. She kept hitting the wrong keys, turning high-toss grenades into low-tosses that landed at her own feet, and her aim was so bad the bullets practically flew into the stratosphere.

In short, Xu Feng was playing like absolute trash, but she was too stubborn to quit—the worse she played, the more addicted she became.

Xiao Hei lay silently atop Xu Feng’s head, watching her clumsily drag the mouse to turn her character while straining her neck just to see the screen. Her oversized T-shirt kept sliding left and right, nearly turning into a bathrobe and falling off entirely. If it weren’t for her arms holding it up, those two pinkish-white buds on her chest would have been fully exposed to the monitor.

Given her loli stature, her current “outfit” was unintentionally provocative.

Because Xu Feng’s gameplay was so… “spectacular,” her teammates, who had been silent for a long time, finally opened their mics.

Dead Teammate A: “Bro, how about you just crouch in a corner? We’re trying to save some rank points here. Let’s try to lose a little less, yeah?”

Dead Teammate B: “Buddy, take a word of advice from a brother: stop ruining your teammates’ lives, okay?”

As for Jiang Yun and Xu Feng, they were in a private voice channel.

The Rat is Me (Jiang Yun): “Xu Feng, what is wrong with you? Is it your hardware, or is something wrong with your head?”

Hearing Jiang Yun’s voice, Xu Feng ditched the mouse. Since she couldn’t open her mic, she resorted to typing.

I Love Money Most (Xu Feng): “My little cousin is playing.”

However, in her flustered state, she accidentally sent the message to the Team Channel.

Immediately, Teammates A and B broke out into another round of mockery.

This was the final straw for Xu Feng. She was already annoyed enough. She slammed her finger onto the ‘T’ key (Push-to-Talk), grabbed her headset, and took a deep breath.

“So what if I’m bad! Did I eat your family’s rice?! If you’re so pro, how come you were the first to die? If you’re so talented, go join a pro league! Why are you playing with me!”

Xu Feng tried her best to roar into the mic, but her naturally soft, moe voice only made her sound like a feisty, “milk-angry” kitten.

Teammate A: “Holy crap? An actual girl?”

Teammate B: “Hold on, might be an AI voice changer.”

Xu Feng: (｀ω´*)

“AI your big head! Your whole family is AI!” Xu Feng jerked the mouse, right-clicked, and snatched a rocket launcher off the ground.

It was a miracle she’d survived to the final circle, but now there was a wall standing between her and the win. Behind it, two enemies were hunkered down, frantically using medkits.

“Let me show you… my true skills!” Xu Feng held down the sprint key, her character charging forward with the rocket launcher aimed dead-center at the wall.

Click! BOOM!

With a press of the right mouse button, the rocket launcher ended the match.

“Hmph~ How’s that?” Xu Feng asked her teammates proudly.

Teammate A: “Syrian Loli… Hey girl, add my ID.”

Teammate B: “KDA of 2, nice! Add me, add me!”

I think I’ll show some ‘mercy’ and reject all of you.

Xu Feng retreated to the lobby with Jiang Yun. Jiang Yun remained silent for a long moment before logging off without a word.

Buzz.

Xu Feng took off her headset and checked her phone.

Jiang Yun: “You’ve changed a lot. You don’t even play seriously anymore. If you can talk, just send a voice note. Not seeing you in person feels… weird. Did you drink yourself stupid the other night?”

Xu Feng frowned at the message. In her memory, she was a strict teetotaler.

Xu Feng: “Since when do I drink? Don’t go slandering my pure reputation.”

Jiang Yun: “The class reunion the day after the Gaokao ended! You were egged into downing a glass of the hard stuff. You ended up blackout drunk. Me and a few girls had to carry you home.”

On the other end, Jiang Yun scratched his head. Figuring Xu Feng probably wouldn’t believe him, he sent over a video.

Beep!

A 54MB video finished loading.

In the frame, “he” was swaying drunkenly as several people struggled to get him up the stairs. After fishing the keys out of his pocket, Jiang Yun opened the door, tossed him onto the sofa, and pointed at his face, mocking how poor his alcohol tolerance was. The recording ended as the door closed.

Jiang Yun: “Oh right, we made sure your door was locked that day, but on our way down the stairs, we ran into a guy in a black trench coat. It was the middle of summer, so it was weird as hell. we watched him for a bit, but he just opened a door on the first floor and went in. Probably had nothing to do with you.”

Xu Feng: “Thanks for telling me.”

Jiang Yun: “I’ll come find you in a few days. Let’s hang out before the exam results come out.”

Xu Feng didn’t reply. Instead, she thought about the man in the black coat. Could he be related to the Dreamscape she’d experienced?

She pulled out her Bureau phone and searched for “Dreamscape.” Deep within the files, she found something.

[Dream-Seed Sowing]

Artificial, miniature Dream-materialization plant seeds. The source organization is currently unknown. The effect is similar to the crystal from the Shanming Airport incident—it forcibly drags subjects into a Dreamscape.

Data pending further investigation.

Thinking back to the man in black, the fog in Xu Feng’s mind suddenly parted for a split second.

She remembered her dream—those two men at the exchange site. Both were dressed in black. And they had talked about… some kind of “seed.”

Then there was the latest incident report: a “bizarre fog”?

The clues were snapping into a chain, all because of one comment from Jiang Yun. The eerie fog, the Dream-Seeds, the exchange between the men in black, and… the “Self” sitting on that throne.

Xu Feng suddenly felt a chill down her spine. A massive web of mystery was closing in, laying the groundwork for a dark fate.

“I’ll write this down and try to send it to Uncle Shui.”

As she wrote, an uncontrollable excitement bubbled up within her. She seemed to have discovered something that even the Dream-Guard Bureau didn’t know yet.

Vroom!

A motorcycle streaked through the night on the outskirts of the city, heading toward the deeper, darker reaches of the wilderness.

Soon, amidst a cloud of dust, the motorcycle came to a stop in a desolate field. A man dressed in black, blending perfectly with the shadows, dismounted. He unstrapped a box from the back and walked forward until he reached a solitary, overgrown grave.

He knelt down solemnly, performing several devout prostrations.

Then, he placed the box on the ground and flicked the latches open. Inside was a purple test tube, swirled with a strange, active mist. The man uncapped it and poured the purple vapor out. The mist spiraled around the lonely grave, gradually enveloping it.

“Servant of the Night King, please awaken from your long coffin of darkness. We require your decree.”

Oooom—

An ancient resonance echoed from within the tomb. The soil began to shift, hard clumps of earth rolling away, as a single yellow joss paper (spirit money) fluttered out.

The man bowed respectfully, picking up the paper as carefully as if it were a divine oracle. He read the words written upon it:

Go and cause some trouble for the newborn ‘her.’