Raised To Be His Wife After Moving In - Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The ordered ice cream was held at the property service center—one box of chocolate and one box of vanilla.

After taking a shower, Lin Qiusu couldn’t resist. He opened the freezer and scooped out half a container, finally eating until he was completely stuffed. Wearing comfortable cotton pajamas and having grown familiar with the homeowner, he was no longer reserved; he was now practically slumped on the sofa.

Just as Xie Yu finished a phone call and stepped out of the study, Lin Qiusu licked a sweet smudge from the corner of his mouth and looked up, blinking at him.

Xie Yu said, “If you can’t finish it, put it back?”

“But if I re-freeze it after it’s been opened, the flavor will change,” Lin Qiusu hesitated.

Fearing the boy might actually get a stomachache, Xie Yu said casually, “Leave it on the coffee table. I’ll eat it in a bit.”

Lin Qiusu paused, clearly surprised. He hadn’t imagined letting Xie Yu eat ice cream he had already dug into. But he truly couldn’t fit another bite, so he slowly placed the container on the table.

…It should be fine, right? In the past, Lin Guanqing often shared a tub of ice cream with him; they would even bicker and fight over it.

But Xie Yu is different, Lin Qiusu thought conflictedly.

His own brother had been raised “rough”; as long as it wasn’t poisonous, anything went. Xie Yu, however, must have been raised with great refinement. Even though he acted low-key now, his every gesture revealed a certain sophistication. He used bone plates and serving spoons; the way he held his bowl and chopsticks was elegant—a meticulousness born from a strict upbringing.

As Lin Qiusu’s mind wandered, he found himself wondering, If Xie Yu were a father, would he be willing to personally taste the baby’s milk powder? His heart began to thud.

He wanted to say more, but Xie Yu seemed busy tonight. A new call came in, and he immediately went back to the study to handle business. Lin Qiusu didn’t go over to disturb him and went back to his room.

On the other end, Xie Yu explained the cause of today’s game incident and assured the higher-ups that accountability would be implemented swiftly. After ending the call in a few sentences, he glanced at the work group chat.

Everyone’s spirits were remarkably stable, happily gossiping. Someone mentioned seeing a person who looked a lot like “Island” in the parking lot and almost went over to say hello by mistake.

Island went back to the office tonight, maybe it was him?] [No way. Though it was dark and hard to see, I bet that person was pulling and pushing with a guy—their hands were practically glued together!

Xie Yu: “…”

Clutching his phone, he slowly paced to the living room. He had intended to throw the ice cream in the trash, but he was distracted by a message from Su Yingzhong.

Su Yingzhong: [Was it you? What happened to “not being a beast”?] Xie Yu replied: [It wasn’t me.]

The description in the group chat was too exaggerated and didn’t fit the facts—how could he admit to it? Yet, after saying it, he felt a sudden flush of guilt, and his palms felt slightly warm.

Lowering his head, he found himself in the kitchen, taking desperate measures to cool down by scooping several bites of ice cream with a clean spoon.

Xie Yu: “…”

He had never touched something someone else had partially eaten. This was a historical first, yet he didn’t feel the slightest bit of disgust.

It’s over, he thought dazed. If being a “dummy” is a disease, Lin Qiusu probably infected me when he popped that bubble.

…

To get his driver’s license, Lin Qiusu had to pass three more sections after the theory test. He contacted the driving school in advance and was assigned the same instructor as the boy he had met during registration.

Since they had given him a ride last time, he noticed the instructor had a good temper and spoke patiently. In the morning, he left fifteen minutes early to wait at the designated spot.

Liang Feng hadn’t expected to see Lin Qiusu again so soon. Seeing him under the shade of the trees, his eyes lit up. Noticing the boy had a new phone, he guessed, “A college gift?”

Lin Qiusu said brightly, “My brother gave it to me.”

“Oh, your brother is pretty good to you,” Liang Feng muttered, then asked, “Did he buy a house here?”

Lin Qiusu said, “No. He’s on a business trip abroad for these two weeks, so I’m staying at his friend’s place.”

Liang Feng was puzzled: “Traveling between China and abroad for work… Is he in finance? Or the internet industry?”

Lin Qiusu answered, “Just a regular laborer.”

Seeing that he didn’t want to reveal more, Liang Feng tucked away his curiosity. After less than two minutes of silence, Liang Feng couldn’t keep his mouth shut and started making small talk.

“Speaking of which, a game planner I admire also went abroad recently,” he said.

Lin Qiusu: ?

Hearing the word “planner,” he froze, wondering if it could be such a coincidence. Could the brother I complain about actually have enough charisma to be widely liked out there? He should be a target of public scorn, shouldn’t he?

“Do you play games? Do you know Clear, the guy who made Liaoye?” Liang Feng asked.

Seeing Lin Qiusu’s surprised look, he thought he had found a fellow fan. Lin Qiusu’s mind went blank for half a second. He averted his gaze and replied, “I haven’t played the game you mentioned.”

Growing up, his access to computers was limited to IT classes. He hadn’t played many games; before ten, he liked hide-and-seek. In recent years, he only dabbled in Gomoku (Five-in-a-row). He played a few rounds during self-study sessions and his achievements were noteworthy—he remained undefeated at school.

“You can try it when you have time. If you can’t win, call me, I’ll cover you,” Liang Feng said.

Lin Qiusu frowned: “Is it hard?”

Liang Feng said, “Hahaha, it’s alright. Competitive games need some skill. If you’re too ‘noob,’ you’ll get beaten up.”

“It sounds like you’ve been beaten up.”

“It was a sparring match! A sparring match! I once matched against Clear in a local ranking. I was crushed so hard I couldn’t even stand up. Man, when I watched the replay, it was the first time I felt that being beaten was an honor.”

Hearing this, Lin Qiusu glanced over with a “You’re so weird” look, as if analyzing Liang Feng’s level of perversion.

Sensing Lin Qiusu’s slight disdain, Liang Feng’s face—previously full of lingering excitement—suddenly shifted into panic. “I just mean Clear’s controls are cool! He’s amazing at making games, he’s just a really impressive guy…” After a frantic clarification, he sighed. “Forget it, you wouldn’t know him anyway.”

Lin Qiusu: “.”

During the awkward silence between them, his eyes wandered and noticed a familiar figure nearby.

Xie Yu had left the house a step behind him. He was now holding his mountain bike, timing his commute perfectly as he leisurely rolled out of the residential complex. Xie Yu had seen Lin Qiusu standing at the gate long ago. His gaze inadvertently shifted to the right, where a boy about the same age was standing next to him.

They were likely taking the driving test together; just now they were gathered, chatting and laughing. Xie Yu lowered his eyes, thinking that Lin Qiusu usually seemed more restrained and less relaxed in front of him. I haven’t even put on airs with him, am I that scary? Xie Yu thought.

“Do you want water?” Xie Yu asked.

Seeing that he had stopped specifically to talk to him, Lin Qiusu looked up a beat late, forgetting to reply immediately.

Then, Xie Yu took it as a “yes.” He pulled a bottle of mineral water from his bike rack and tossed it steadily into Lin Qiusu’s arms.

Lin Qiusu muttered, “Thank you.”

Xie Yu chuckled, “No problem. ‘Respect the elderly and love the young.'” He then looked at Liang Feng: “Sorry, I couldn’t tell which category you fit into, so I won’t be handing out charity.”

The road was filled with the sound of honking horns; some drivers were cursing in a hurry to avoid being late. Across the flower-filled barrier, the non-motorized lane was completely clear, with only a few delivery riders zooming past.

Xie Yu didn’t linger. He nimbly mounted his bike and rode unhurriedly toward the office building. His posture was casual but his back was straight, showing no sign of lethargy—he looked very youthful, like a university student who hadn’t left campus yet.

Liang Feng watched Xie Yu’s tall figure, unable to guess his age or identity. He only felt that the man’s words were sharp—not necessarily aggressive, but full of underlying meaning.

“Damn, you count as a ‘young person’ and I don’t? Do I look that old?” he said. “That’s your brother’s friend?”

Lin Qiusu nodded, thinking silently: Not just that… he is also Clear’s direct superior.

The white student driver car arrived at the intersection. They stopped chatting and went to greet the instructor. The instructor cheerfully asked if they were hot; while waiting at the red light, he had seen the two students chatting excitedly instead of hiding from the sun in the security booth.

Liang Feng said they were talking about games. The instructor, who was about thirty, mentioned that he also played Liaoye often. However, his ranking wasn’t as good as Liang Feng’s; he hadn’t encountered any developers with public IDs, so he didn’t even have the chance to be “beaten up.”

Lin Qiusu shrunk into the corner, feeling that everyone around him was becoming increasingly absurd. Why would someone feel regretful about NOT being beaten up by Lin Guanqing?!

“Was Clear’s record suppressed by Island in the last version?” the instructor asked.

Liang Feng said excitedly, “Yes, yes! Island’s ranking in the last version was terrifying. If you weren’t in the top 100 domestically, you wouldn’t even see him.”

“I heard he lives around here.”

“Really? I really want to know what he looks like! Every time there’s a public appearance, they either send someone from the art team or pull Clear to fill in.”

“He probably only dares to be wild online. In reality, he’s probably socially anxious, right? In the very first interview Island did, he wouldn’t even turn on his mic; he typed the whole time.”

As they chatted among themselves, Lin Qiusu leaned against the window, his mind completely blank. Along the way, the instructor and Liang Feng got excited, discussing various rumors about Island.

Since the game launched, its popularity remained high, making it the undisputed dark horse of recent years. The development team received a lot of attention as a result. There were plenty of promotional and media activities, so the producer would inevitably have to appear before the public.

But Island was the exception.

His deliberate avoidance only made people more curious. After all, making games isn’t the same as being a celebrity; even if he looked “eccentric,” players wouldn’t care. It was just a matter of coming out to say a few words, yet he was so hesitant to cooperate—anyone would think there was some “unspeakable secret.”

The mainstream guess was that Island was too ugly to be seen, was self-conscious, and had an introverted personality that couldn’t handle the spotlight.

“The Lead Planner is so prominent while the Producer hides away. I don’t believe for a second that there isn’t some jealousy or conflict,” Liang Feng speculated, stroking his chin.

The instructor chimed in, “Oh, it’s hard to survive in those big companies. How could there not be internal fighting? They’re probably punching each other in private.”

Lin Qiusu gripped his water bottle and took a sharp breath: “.”

He didn’t know about the punching, but Island was effectively… helping Clear raise his brother.

…

Honni, 12th Floor.

“Why is the Great God Xie on a killing spree today? The other side is so miserable; the hand holding the mouse is shaking.”

“A new punishment mechanism for accidents must have been created. If you cause a Level 3 accident, you get bloodily crushed by the producer for five rounds personally?”

“Then wouldn’t the masochists be thrilled, hehe.”

A few people were whispering in the pantry. The main responsibility for this bug lay with a new intern. Because he hadn’t become a full-time employee yet, it was his mentor whose monthly bonus was docked. Usually, the protocol was for the intern to write a self-reflection and pay for a pizza for the team.

Unexpectedly, Xie Yu went to his workstation first thing this morning.

This mess had quite an impact—the team’s skill level was questioned, and internal losses were incurred; tens of thousands of players had claimed limited items by exploiting the bug. To compensate for other players’ psychological imbalance, the official account had to apologize and send compensation packages to all accounts.

The newcomer knew that mistakes like this never happened in the group. This was the first time things looked so ugly. His face turned pale, prepared for a scolding from Xie Yu. But Xie Yu’s tone was flat; he simply told the intern to log into his game account and then walked away.

Liaoye has a rich set of rules and a sophisticated 1v1 system. Within two minutes of logging in, the newcomer received a 1v1 invitation from “Island.” Seeing this message, his mental state collapsed completely.

For the next half hour, he was in a daze, constantly being killed and respawning, only to be headshotted again within two minutes. Throughout the process, Xie Yu didn’t say a word until the newcomer actively surrendered.

Xie Yu finally turned on his mic and said coldly, “The department assessment has a hard metric: the single-player PK score must reach 100,000 points. Your account has 130,000.”

It isn’t easy for a player to reach that score; it requires a lot of energy to study and practice. This was precisely the starting point for setting this assessment—everyone in the group, regardless of position, must have deep contact with the game they make. Anyone who genuinely reached the assessment standard would be familiar with the game’s controls; even if they couldn’t beat Xie Yu, they wouldn’t be crushed so absolutely.

Unfortunately, judging by the performance just now, the newcomer didn’t even have basic muscle memory.

“How much did you pay for a pilot (booster)?” Xie Yu asked.

The newcomer was almost breaking into a cold sweat: “I… I didn’t…”

Xie Yu let out a light snort: “Then did you use hacks usually?”

The newcomer quickly clarified: “I would never touch that red line! I was just… too busy with work, I really didn’t have time to play, so I asked a friend to carry me a few times.”

Xie Yu’s tone had no ups or downs, and his choice of words wasn’t harsh, but he absolutely dominated the rhythm of the conversation.

He said coldly: “I see. So, to thank your friend for helping you muddle through, you leaked a few vulnerabilities to him as a benefit?”

Fortunately, they weren’t facing each other. The newcomer sat in his chair, his legs shaking uncontrollably; if they were face-to-face, he would probably have cried from fear.

Vulnerabilities can be fixed, and unintentional mistakes can be forgiven. The workload of every game update is huge, and small errors are common. An accident handled that night didn’t need to be made so serious. But if it was intentionally leaked, the informant was a mole—the nature of the problem was entirely different.

The newcomer knew how serious the consequences of being proven guilty were, and insisted that he only had daily chats with his friend and couldn’t have leaked anything. Xie Yu didn’t waste another word; since he couldn’t get an answer, he stopped asking and went to the meeting room to call Lin Guanqing.

He summarized the situation in a few words and said, “Only someone with editor permissions would discover this problem; it’s impossible to reverse-engineer it from the external port.”

“Your man, your decision,” Xie Yu said. “Lest people think I’m stripping your power.”

Lin Guanqing knew Xie Yu’s style well—he had no tolerance for idiots. Firing the guy was a done deal. He said simply, “I’ll be the bad guy. I’ll call him for a meeting in a bit.”

Xie Yu didn’t like to wrongly accuse people. Even if he already had a hunch, he would find definitive evidence. Shortly after leaving the meeting room, the head of the PR department sent a message; they had made contact with the person who spread the rumor on the forum. Based on their inquiry, it was enough to prove that the newcomer was full of lies; he had stepped on both landmines: pilot play and leaking.

At 4:00 PM that afternoon, the newcomer received notification from Lin Guanqing for a remote call. Ten minutes later, he came out and sobbed on his desk.

Su Yingzhong heard a bit of it while passing by and joked with Xie Yu in private. “Can’t you be a bit softer-hearted? So cold… I’m starting to feel pity for Xiao Qiu living with you,” he said.

After saying that, Su Yingzhong asked curiously: “You two have been living together for a few days. Tell me your ‘parenting’ insights, Great God Xie.”

Xie Yu put on a very cold posture: “What insights? I hate kids the most.”

Su Yingzhong: “Really? I haven’t heard you complain about wanting to throw him out. I thought you were enjoying yourself.”

Xie Yu’s mouth was harder than stone: “I’d need a reason to throw him out, wouldn’t I? But he’s well-behaved and obedient, very good at housekeeping, and patient enough to go to the supermarket to redeem prizes.”

Even if the prizes were a bunch of mini-sized condoms and weirdly flavored candy.

“He’s very sensible. He’ll take the initiative to call me ‘Brother.’ When I drove him to his exam, he was incredibly moved.”

Even though calling him ‘Brother’ was a guilty tactic to please him and he hasn’t said it once since Xie Yu cooled down. And being ‘moved’ resulted in a face full of bubble gum.

But…

Xie Yu said righteously: “He hasn’t caused any trouble, so how can I find fault with him? Otherwise, I would have put him on a plane and stuffed him back to Lin Guanqing long ago.”