My Online Date is My Roommate - Chapter 2

The group decided to head off-campus for hotpot. Jiang Mingbo actually loved hotpot; there was something inherently comforting about a group of people gathered around a steaming, lively pot. Unfortunately, since he harbored such a deep dislike for the person footing the bill, he had little interest in the meal and spent most of the time dryly listening to Tan Rui’s endless chatter.

“That guy’s skills were seriously pathetic. We agreed on a best-of-three, and I took two rounds in five minutes. I honestly don’t know how he plays,” Tan Rui laughed, sharing stories from a popular game. “I even gave him a chance to call for backup from his guild, but I guess he was too embarrassed he just logged off in the end.”

The game was called Looking East, a martial arts (Wuxia) title whose genre was obvious just from the name. Given the current market’s obsession with competitive esports, it shouldn’t have been a hit, but it had a unique selling point: the in-game scenery was a 1:1 replica of numerous domestic tourist attractions and landmarks. The modeling was incredibly detailed, and the level of freedom was high. Imagine settling a grudge match on the summit of Mount Tai it sounded undeniably cool. Couples in the game spent their time “checking in” at scenic spots for photos; you could spend three days and nights traveling and still not see a single corner of the map.

Consequently, the game had taken the country by storm across all age groups. With their new funding, the developers began seeking official authorization from more scenic bureaus to continue their survey of famous and even obscure locations. They were constantly upgrading, and the game’s file size grew so massive that many players were forced to upgrade their hardware just to keep up. Players spent their days simultaneously cursing the developers and begging for their favorite local spots to be added a strange, mutually beneficial relationship between the fans and the officials.

After finishing his rant about the weirdo he’d encountered, Tan Rui swished a piece of fatty beef in the broth. “Bo-er, look at you. It’s one thing for Yu Xuan to stay out because he’s ‘hand-crippled’ [lacks reflexes], but why haven’t you joined us yet?”

Jiang Mingbo smiled. “I’m ‘hand-crippled’ too. I can’t afford to lose face like that.”

He had originally planned to start playing, but unfortunately, Fei Wenxu played too. Not only was Fei not “hand-crippled,” but he was also a “Whale” a high-spending player who easily collected every limited skin and piece of gear. He had effortlessly established a guild and expanded his influence to the point of being quite famous on the server. As expected, games were always more fun when you were rich.

The key issue was Fei Wenxu’s generosity. He threw money around like it was nothing, handing out massive digital “Red Envelopes” during holidays. Many of their acquaintances had joined his guild just to ride his coattails. If Jiang Mingbo joined a different guild or a different server while being Fei’s roommate, it would contradict his “friendly and easygoing” persona. So, he simply chose not to play at all, opting to watch short clips of the game on his phone instead.

Listening to Tan Rui’s nagging, Fei Wenxu lifted his eyelids and glanced at Jiang Mingbo. “Bo-er, if you join, I’ll definitely give you an officer position. Don’t be a stranger.”

Who wants that? Jiang Mingbo fought the urge to roll his eyes. He kept his smile bright. “I’m not very good at these kinds of games. I’ll pass. I’m better off playing ‘match-three’ puzzle games with Yu Xuan.”

Yu Xuan pushed up his glasses innocently. “It’s mainly because my reaction time is too slow. I can’t handle the controls. Even the initial tutorial made my head spin. But Bo-er, I think you’d be much better than me.”

Jiang Mingbo casually placed a small pastry on Yu Xuan’s plate. “Xuan, you really overrate me.”

Tan Rui, the human loudspeaker, continued to bluster. “What does that matter? If you want to play, I’ll carry you! And if that’s not enough, we have the great ‘Fish’ right here in our dorm. Do you know how many people are lining up just to get a chance to hang out with him? You’re literally ‘the pavilion closest to the water’ you’ve got the best access! You really don’t know how to use your resources…”

Fish. That was Fei Wenxu’s nickname, as well as his in-game ID.

Jiang Mingbo remained unmoved, keeping that same cheerful smile. “I’ll pass. I don’t want to cause you guys any trouble.”

“How could it be a trouble—”

Fei Wenxu maintained a faint smile, though upon closer inspection, it never reached his eyes.

He found Jiang Mingbo truly fascinating. The man was clearly hypocritical, yet he insisted on acting like he was everyone’s best friend. He was practically dripping with envy, yet he forced himself to look optimistic and hardworking. It was a hilarious contradiction.

However, Fei had no intention of exposing him. After all, it had nothing to do with him, and he didn’t care enough to get involved.

The meal ended on a high note, and the four of them walked back to campus together. They chatted about typical college topics games, girls, and future career plans. With Tan Rui around to fill the silence, it was never awkward.

“Bo-er, why are your standards as high as Fish’s? Not a single pretty girl has caught your eye?” Tan Rui grumbled. “If a girl even looked at me, I’d be devoted to her for life.”

Jiang Mingbo paused, then laughed. “It’s more like no one has their eye on me, right?”

He didn’t like the way Tan Rui phrased that as if it were natural for Fei Wenxu to have high standards, while Jiang Mingbo was just being pretentious. Of course, Jiang knew Tan Rui didn’t have a malicious bone in his body; the guy just spoke faster than he thought. He wasn’t looking down on Jiang; he just lacked a filter.

Since Jiang Mingbo acted so lively, Tan Rui didn’t think twice before digging for gossip. “You really don’t have anyone you like?”

“If I did, could I really hide it from you guys?” Jiang Mingbo gave him a mock-reproachful look. “I’d definitely be the first to introduce her to you.”

He wasn’t telling the truth. He did have someone he liked. Their Computer Science department was jokingly referred to as the “Monastery” because of how few women were in the program. Whenever there was a major event that required “eye candy,” the organizers would borrow students from the International Trade major next door. Jiang Mingbo even remembered the name of a girl from that department from the previous year.

She was beautiful and had a great personality. Jiang Mingbo happened to be passing by when he saw her holding a large banner for an event; he’d handed her a bottle of water. She’d thanked him softly, and when he turned, he met her large, striking eyes.

Those eyes were like dark glass beads, and for a moment, they left him completely disoriented. In his daze, he only had time to catch a glimpse of her name on her badge before trying to beat a hasty retreat only to spill water all over himself. The girl had then offered him a tissue.

Later, he had gone out of his way to add her on WeChat. After a dry exchange of “Hellos,” Jiang Mingbo found himself at a total loss for words. Usually, he could talk to guys about anything, but when it came to the opposite sex, he became a stuttering mess.

The matter eventually fizzled out. By the end of sophomore year, he hadn’t spoken more than two words to her. Naturally, he wouldn’t mention this in the dorm partly because he didn’t think it was necessary, but mostly because he didn’t want Fei Wenxu to know.

“What a waste. You and Fish are the ‘face’ of this dorm, yet you’re both so single. I was counting on you guys to get girlfriends so you could introduce their friends to me and Xuan. Right, Xuan?”

Yu Xuan replied, “I’m okay with it. I think being alone is fine.”

Jiang Mingbo slapped Tan Rui on the shoulder. “Look at Xuan’s level of enlightenment, then look at yourself.”

“Sigh, why couldn’t Fish’s face have grown on my head instead?” Tan Rui lamented. “Seriously, having a face like that and not putting it to good use is a crime.”

Fei Wenxu shrugged. “I just haven’t met anyone who clicks. I’m not going to force it.”

Tan Rui sighed. “True. But honestly, man… do you ever worry that the girls chasing you are just after your family’s money?”

“I’m not sure. I’ve never known any of them well enough to find out,” Fei Wenxu replied with his usual air of indifference, as if he were discussing someone else entirely.

“Tsk, tsk. The man with the full belly doesn’t know what it’s like to starve,” Tan Rui sighed gloomily.

Jiang Mingbo impatiently shoved Tan Rui’s hand off his shoulder. “Go, go, go. Who’s ‘starving’ like you? I’m enjoying the single life, okay?”

“Liar!”

The group bickered and played around all the way back to their dorm.