My Online Date is My Roommate - Chapter 19

Tan Rui, the resident “broadcaster,” immediately spread the news to the guild.

Guild [RR]: Exclusive news over here! Starting bid is five gold. Anyone want it? Guild [Small Foam]: Do we even need to buy it? It’s a guarantee these two have hooked up.

Jiang Mingbo nearly choked on his own spit. For a girl, Small Foam spoke even more crudely than he did—and he was a grown man. Someone clearly felt the same.

Guild [My Sword is Very Sharp]: Holy crap, sister, your phrasing is a bit wild. Guild [Small Foam]: [White-eye.jpg] We’re all street-wise here; why are you pretending to be an intellectual? If you’re so cultured, why didn’t you show off during the Flying Flower Order just now? Guild [My Sword is Very Sharp]: …I was injured. Guild [Piggy Needs to Lose Weight]: Served you right! Guild [Little Fishy]: [Peeking.jpg] Guild [Piggy Needs to Lose Weight]: Oho, the party involved is here! What do you say? Isn’t it time to hand out some red envelopes? Guild [Guanshan is Hard to Cross]: Sigh, if you’re talking about red envelopes, I’m wide awake. Guild [A Cup of Mango Pomelo Sago]: Red envelopes? Where?

Fish: Stop teasing her. Guild [Small Foam]: “Aiya-ya-ya, stop teasing her~~” Guild [Piggy Needs to Lose Weight] immediately followed up: “Aiya-ya-ya, stop teasing her~~”

Suddenly, the entire guild chat was filled with tildes. The sarcastic atmosphere almost overflowed from the screen. Jiang Mingbo originally wanted to show his face, but at the mention of red envelopes, he immediately retracted his head like a turtle.

Such wallet-draining behavior should naturally be left to that idiot Fei Wenxu. He wasn’t the one who asked to send them, so it couldn’t be counted as him scamming the guy.

Fish: I hope everyone will attend our wedding banquet on Saturday night on time.

Jiang Mingbo froze. Banquet? What banquet?

As a large-scale social game, Looking East took the “Qingyuan” (in-game couple) system very seriously. First, you had to find a witness NPC, then obtain a marriage certificate, followed by burning incense at the Old Man under the Moon Temple, and finally, the banquet. After running through the whole process, a new couple would practically wish for death on the spot.

There were system-standard banquets that could be unlocked through a few simple quests. Wealthier players, however, chose to “pay-to-win,” buying feasts from NPCs. These banquets ranged from basic to high-end the most expensive could cost several thousand RMB, featuring customized names, wedding carriages, unique love-quotes, and various gear drops during the event.

Meanwhile, the guests’ contributions were pitiful; they only needed two copper coins to scrounge a meal. It was essentially a system designed to fleece the “rich and foolish.”

Currently, Fei Wenxu was looking like that “rich and foolish” person.

Jiang Mingbo was a bit dazed. He didn’t know there was going to be a banquet. If he dumped the guy later and was asked for a refund, what would he do? Though he knew Fei Wenxu wouldn’t care about such small change, it was better to be safe than sorry…

Hearing about the red envelopes, the guild stopped gossiping. One second they were calling them an “adulterous couple,” and the next they were shamelessly offering congratulations and wishing them a “child” early.

Guild [Small Foam]: It had to be our President! President is awesome! Guild [A Cup of Mango Pomelo Sago]: Holy crap, I grabbed nearly a hundred thousand gold! Guild [Guanshan is Hard to Cross]: Sorry, I got over two hundred thousand. Guild [Piggy Needs to Lose Weight]: I won’t say another word. Today, I’m kowtowing to the President. Guild [My Sword is Very Sharp]: Happy wedding to the Big Brother and Big Sister-in-law!!!

Now Jiang Mingbo was even more afraid to show his face. He quickly sent a private message to Fei Wenxu.

Little Fishy: What are you doing? I didn’t say anything about a banquet. Fish: It’s fine. I’ll handle the preparations.

Jiang Mingbo was speechless. Show-off much? Is “who prepares it” even the problem? Just don’t try to settle the accounts when we break up…

Little Fishy: I think it’s just a game, so there’s no need. We already sent red envelopes; a banquet is too expensive. Fish: Starting to save money for me already?

Jiang Mingbo’s eye twitched. Big brother, can you have some dignity? I’m afraid you won’t be able to cry later.

Little Fishy: […] Little Fishy: In that case, as long as you’re happy.

Fei Wenxu didn’t care about the cost. A banquet was a good way for everyone to have fun, so he felt it was worth it.

After finishing the dailies, Jiang Mingbo logged off quickly. Fei Wenxu slamming down so much money made him a bit nervous. It was fine if the guy didn’t hold a grudge, but what if he did?

Should I show some gesture in return?

He glanced at his empty national treasury and immediately dismissed the thought. Why compete in wealth with a tycoon? The interest the guy made in one day on his bank account was enough to cover Jiang Mingbo’s living expenses for a month. If he wanted to throw money away, let him… what did it have to do with him?

Jiang Mingbo comforted himself. Then a WeChat message popped up.

Fish: Going to sleep? Little Fishy: No. Fish: Then why did you log off so suddenly? There are still activities. Little Fishy: My heart hurts seeing all that silver flowing away.

This was the truth. Though he shouldn’t feel possessive over someone else’s money, the thought of spending thousands on a single digital meal felt absurd.

Fish: [WeChat Transfer] Fish: Feel better now?

The money was right there, but he couldn’t take it. Jiang Mingbo’s heart hurt even more…

Little Fishy: Enough. Stop being a psycho. I’m going to sleep! Fish: Didn’t you say talking to me always takes you past midnight? It’s not even ten yet.

Jiang Mingbo quickly searched for the benefits of girls sleeping early.

Little Fishy: Do you not understand what “beauty sleep” is? If I sleep early, my skin will be brighter tomorrow.

Fei Wenxu happened to know a bit about skincare from his mother, so he understood.

Fish: Alright then. Let’s talk tomorrow morning. What time will you wake up?

Given everything that happened today, Jiang Mingbo felt the situation was gradually slipping out of his control. He gritted his teeth and decided to reclaim some ground with a “corny” flirtatious move.

Little Fishy: 5:20. [Homophone for “I love you” in Chinese] Fish: That’s early.

Jiang Mingbo tossed his phone aside. Unromantic idiot. Get lost!

After a long wait with no reply, Fei Wenxu reviewed the messages. Realizing the hidden meaning, he let out a laugh.

Fish: Okay, I got it. Me too.

Jiang Mingbo rolled his eyes. Idiot.

Little Fishy: You should sleep early too. You Computer Science guys go bald fast enough as it is.

Fei Wenxu’s smile stiffened. It wasn’t vanity, but since he had heard countless compliments on his looks since childhood, he knew his advantages. He instinctively assumed Little Fishy already knew what he looked like before adding him.

Fish: No need to worry. I won’t embarrass you. Little Fishy: You’d better not. If you don’t suit my taste, I’ll dump you. Little Fishy: [Arrogant.jpg]

Fei Wenxu frowned. He knew she was joking, but he didn’t like this particular joke.

Fish: I don’t like that joke.

On the bed, Jiang Mingbo laughed silently. Good, I want you to be annoyed. Just you wait; I’ve got plenty more coming for you.

Little Fishy: [Kiss.jpg] Little Fishy: I’m going to sleep now. Fish: Okay. Goodnight.

Just as Jiang Mingbo was about to log out of his alt account, he remembered something. He searched for an official “relationship announcement” template and posted it to his Moments. Let that guy enjoy his self-induced sentimentality.

He lay down and prepared to close his eyes, but then realized he could move the guy even more. He rolled over, grabbed his phone, and logged back into the game.

He checked his friend list first. Seeing Fei Wenxu wasn’t online, he breathed a sigh of relief and steered his character toward the spot where he had found the Phoebe zhennan wood before.

After buying a backpack full of stamina pills, he stopped at the entrance of the Zhangjiajie dungeon and began the arduous climb.

With his previous experience, the ascent was much faster. However, his luck seemed to have run out. He dug for an hour without seeing a single trace of the wood. He wore out two axes and ran out of stamina pills. Jiang Mingbo began to lose heart. This crappy game… it’s just a piece of wood, but it’s taking my life.

He wanted to find someone to trade for pills, but no one on his friend list was online at this hour. He didn’t want to find a stranger in the world chat, so he just logged off. Cursing the game developers twice, Jiang Mingbo went to sleep in a huff.

On Friday, after classes and a nap, Jiang Mingbo woke up and immediately started chopping trees. He didn’t believe he could get it the first time but not the second.

By now, he wasn’t even obsessed with giving Fish a gift; it had evolved into a stubborn “donkey-like” spirit of him against the game. He clicked the screen incessantly, his axe swinging so fast it almost sparked. He vowed to chop down a piece of Phoebe zhennan today.

He was so immersed in the “art of woodcutting” that he didn’t even notice new messages in his friend channel.

Fei Wenxu hadn’t received a reply to his morning WeChat. He thought she was still sleeping since she had no classes. After his own nap, she still hadn’t replied. He was a bit puzzled and scrolled through their chat history, only to realize they mostly talked at night.

Of course they did, Jiang Mingbo had to pull his curtains shut to switch accounts.

Exiting WeChat, Fei Wenxu comforted himself, thinking she might just be busy during the day. He hadn’t logged into the game on his phone for a long time he preferred the big screen but when he finally logged in, he found Little Fishy was online.

Fei Wenxu narrowed his eyes. Time to play the game, but no time to reply to my WeChat?

His expression darkened. He sent two messages, but Little Fishy didn’t reply to a single one.

On the other end, Jiang Mingbo had just switched to his third axe. This game is a rip-off. Chopping trees costs axes, and axes cost money. Vile capitalists! He looked at his nearly depleted stamina pills, sighed, and decided to try again tonight.

Clearly heartbroken by the game, Jiang Mingbo closed his eyes and logged out.

Fei Wenxu waited patiently for two minutes. Just as he was about to send a third message, he noticed her avatar had gone gray. He blinked, not quite processing the situation. What is Little Fishy doing?

Jiang Mingbo climbed down. In the dorm, Tan Rui’s light snoring continued. Faint light peeked through the gaps in Yu Xuan’s and Fei Wenxu’s curtains; they were awake but silent. Jiang Mingbo washed up quietly and prepared to head to the library.

As he slung on his bag and changed his shoes, he looked up and met Fei Wenxu’s eyes as the latter prepared to climb down.

Because of the afternoon nap, the lights were off and the balcony curtains were drawn tight. The room was dim. Fei Wenxu was silhouetted against the weak light from the balcony, a deep shadow falling over his sharp features. His eyes were dark and unreadable. Jiang Mingbo couldn’t see them clearly but felt an instinctive sensation of being “locked on.”

He quickly looked away, acting like a thief with a guilty conscience. It wasn’t just cowardice; since Little Fishy hadn’t replied, Fei Wenxu’s expression was naturally unpleasant.

Jiang Mingbo went straight to the library. He put on his headphones and studied all afternoon. It wasn’t until his stomach rumbled that he looked up to see it was evening. He ordered takeout and then leisurely packed his things.

When he got back to the dorm, Fei Wenxu wasn’t there. Tan Rui was already back on the game. One look at the screen reminded Jiang Mingbo of his tragic tree-chopping experience, so he looked away.

While eating and scrolling through posts mostly “flirting techniques” to use on Fei Wenxu a thread popped up: “How addictive can chatting during the ‘ambiguous’ phase be?”

Jiang Mingbo chuckled. I don’t need that anymore. I’ve got little Fei Wenxu right where I want him…

Wait!

He suddenly realized that he was now technically dating Fei Wenxu. For people who just started an online relationship, “Good morning, Good afternoon, Goodnight” were basic requirements. He frantically switched to his alt WeChat. Sure enough, messages had piled up.

Fish: Good morning. Fish: Not awake yet? Fish: Do you have classes this morning? Fish: I’m heading to class now.

At noon, the guy had sent a picture of his lunch not the school cafeteria, but a high-end restaurant. Fei Wenxu had a car; when he had no afternoon classes, he’d drive elsewhere to eat. Jiang Mingbo looked at the picture and curled his lip. Show-off.

Then the tone of the messages changed abruptly. The guy sent two game screenshots.

Fish: You’re online? Fish: Why aren’t you replying to my messages?

There were no messages after that. The last one was from five hours ago. Jiang Mingbo blinked.

Crap. On the first day of our online relationship, I ‘Read and Ignored’ him for an entire day. Is Fei Wenxu going to dump me early?

How should I reply?

He turned to search for a “remedy” plan, but the dorm door suddenly opened.

Fei Wenxu walked in. He carried his bag, his face expressionless, but Jiang Mingbo keenly sensed the man was in a foul mood. Well, obviously. Who’d be happy being ignored by their girlfriend on the first day of dating?

Jiang Mingbo quickly exited his apps and switched away from the alt account. He clicked a random video and continued eating.

Fei Wenxu washed his hands on the balcony, then sat down and opened his computer in silence. Jiang Mingbo peeked with his peripheral vision, still thinking of a plan. What should I tell him? My account was hacked? An account booster was using it? Neither seemed to fit his current persona…

Fei Wenxu logged into the game, checked if Little Fishy was online, and saw her “last online” time. He closed the info panel and went to the NPC to prepare the wedding banquet settings.

After eating, Jiang Mingbo threw out the trash and washed his hands. He caught a quick glimpse of Fei Wenxu’s large monitor. He saw the guy was actually meticulously choosing the background settings for the wedding banquet.

The “catfish” Jiang Mingbo suddenly felt like a total scumbag. To be ignored for a whole day and then turn around and pick wedding decorations… I’m really a piece of work.

Caring no more for caution, Jiang Mingbo scrambled onto his bed, pulled the curtains shut, and logged into the game.

Fei Wenxu had set an “online notification” for her. Almost the same second, he knew Little Fishy was back.

Fish: You’re online?