The Moon Shines Upon Me - Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Game

That was how Gu Shiwei came to know Mingyue.

After meeting Mingyue, the difficulty of her game plummeted. Monsters that used to take her an hour to grind down were now silenced by a single stroke of Mingyue’s sword before they could even make a sound.

During that time, the thing Gu Shiwei looked forward to most every day was waiting for Mingyue to come online.

Being with Mingyue brought her a strange sense of happiness, even if they weren’t completing any quests at all.

However, this sweet world for two didn’t last long before it was interrupted by Lin Qinghuan. Upon hearing that the great academic star Gu Shiwei was actually addicted to gaming, Lin also registered an account. But she wasn’t as lucky as Gu Shiwei; after being slaughtered by monsters one hundred and fifty-seven times, Gu Shiwei finally made a grand entrance, bringing Mingyue along.

This time, however, it was Gu Shiwei who stole the spotlight.

With a few taps of her fingers, Gu Shiwei helped Lin Qinghuan drive the monsters away. Then, she and Mingyue worked together to drag Lin Qinghuan all the way to max level. Once at max level, Lin Qinghuan gradually got the hang of things and began joining Gu Shiwei and Mingyue on dungeon raids frequently.

A few months later, Wen Jian Jiang Hu (Sword Inquiry) released a new dungeon. It was because of that dungeon that they finally had the chance to “open their mics and communicate.”

The new dungeon was too difficult. They had tried over a dozen times, but their coordination remained poor. Fortunately, none of the three were the type to get angry over a game; even as their party was repeatedly wiped out, the chat log remained full of laughter.

Gu Shiwei was mainly responsible for the “giggles,” while Lin Qinghuan handled the “guffaws.”

Mingyue, meanwhile, was responsible for interspersing their laughter with highly professional tactical commands.

Later, perhaps because it was getting late, Mingyue typed in the team chat saying they’d try one last time if they didn’t pass, she’d log off and try again another time.

Gu Shiwei and Lin Qinghuan naturally had no objections. Just as they sent their “OKs,” a voice came through the computer. It sounded a bit distant but was very pleasant: “Zhaozhao, can you hear me?”

The moment she heard Mingyue’s voice, Gu Shiwei’s breathing suddenly went shallow.

Zhaozhao: “1111” (Signifying ‘yes/received’)

Mumu: “Holy crap, Mingyue, are you a broadcasting major?”

How could someone’s voice sound so good even through gaming software?

“No. As long as you guys can hear me, it’s fine.”

Mingyue’s voice was layered with some static; she was likely adjusting her microphone and looking for her headset.

Under Mingyue’s calm and organized voice commands, they cleared the new dungeon in just half an hour.

Afterward, Mingyue mentioned she had a “parental buff” (meaning her parents were around) and logged off. Gu Shiwei and Lin Qinghuan finally processed what had just happened.

Mumu: “She’s so calm and badass when facing problems. I’m actually catching feelings.”

Mumu: “A cute character model with a mature ‘big sister’ voice the ultimate contrast.”

Mumu: “I hereby declare her my new ‘waifu’.”

Zhaozhao: “???”

Mumu: “Don’t you think? Her voice is cool and indifferent, but it’s really beautiful. And her emotional stability is insane she didn’t say a word even though I messed up so many times.”

Gu Shiwei, of course, felt the same. Sometimes Lin Qinghuan’s blunders were so stupid that even Gu Shiwei wanted to scold her, but Mingyue never showed the slightest dissatisfaction, focusing only on how to fix the mistake.

Very calm. Seemingly very good-tempered.

Very emotionally stable.

And her voice… sounded very young.

Very beautiful.

Since Mingyue had a “parental buff,” she was likely around their age, perhaps even younger than her and Lin Qinghuan.

Gu Shiwei placed both hands on the keyboard and expressionlessly typed out a few words.

Zhaozhao: “Stop daydreaming. She’s my Master.”

Mumu: “It’s because she’s your Master that I’m interested. Surely you wouldn’t fall for your Master across a screen, would you? Hahaha.”

Zhaozhao: “Shut up. I don’t want you to be my ‘Master-mother.’ Logging off.”

After exiting the game, Gu Shiwei suddenly began to ruminate on Lin Qinghuan’s words. Does a normal person really fall for someone they’ve never seen across the internet?

Probably not. It was likely just the “imprinting effect” or perhaps the “suspension bridge effect.” They had all been excited when clearing the dungeon; Lin Qinghuan had been screaming, and Gu Shiwei’s heart had been racing while listening to Mingyue’s unflappable voice in her headset. Was it the game that made her nervous? Or was it Mingyue?

That night, Gu Shiwei suffered a rare bout of insomnia. No matter how she thought about it, she couldn’t figure out what that feeling was.

After that day, the three of them would occasionally open their mics to chat. Mingyue introduced them to her friends and started pulling them into mainstream “working” dungeons (raids to earn currency/gear).

Gu Shiwei and Lin Qinghuan were quite extroverted (E) in real life, but online they turned introverted (I). Once inside the dungeons, they felt overwhelmed looking at the dense sea of UIDs on the screen.

Wen Jian Jiang Hu had raid modes for 10, 30, 50, and 100 players. They joined a 30-player raid this time. About five or six people in the group were Mingyue’s friends. When Mingyue introduced Gu Shiwei and Lin Qinghuan, she described them as “two very smart friends I recently met.”

Her friends gave a warm welcome to these “smart friends” personally certified by Mingyue.

Thanks to Mingyue’s guidance over this period, Gu Shiwei and Lin Qinghuan’s gear wasn’t bad; they were capable of a 30-player raid. Although they were far from the top-tier players, they could at least deal decent damage. However, because neither of them knew the “Mall” (cash shop) existed and Mingyue hadn’t specifically mentioned it, they both entered the raid wearing tattered, basic starter clothes.

A flashy “beauty” character in the raid noticed Gu Shiwei and Lin Qinghuan wearing the most primitive starter outfits. She began sending messages in the team chat, subtly mocking them for being poor and snidely wondering if Mingyue was going to have to pay for their gear later.

Mumu (Private to Zhaozhao): “Is she sick in the head?”

Zhaozhao: “I think so too.”

Mumu (Private to Zhaozhao): “How about I show her what’s what? I can’t take it, I really want to curse her out.”

Zhaozhao: “Don’t. Mingyue is still here.”

Because they were brought in as a package deal, everyone in the raid knew they were together. Gu Shiwei didn’t want to cause trouble for Mingyue, nor did she want to show an unpleasant side of herself in front of her.

Previously, Gu Shiwei and Lin Qinghuan hadn’t thought there was anything wrong with their characters, and Mingyue had never looked down on them. But after that person’s comments, they felt an indescribable sense of frustration.

Gu Shiwei had actually noticed early on that Mingyue had many outfits a different one every day, all glowing and beautiful. They must have cost a lot of money. Someone who could “all in” every season’s fashion must have significant financial power in real life. Since Mingyue was likely still a student, Gu Shiwei deduced that Mingyue, like herself, was a “rich second generation.”

Gu Shiwei didn’t know where this sudden competitive streak came from, but being taunted like that made her open her phone and scan the Mall’s QR code. Without blinking, Gu Shiwei topped up a six-figure sum.

After finishing the transaction, she put her phone down and began to “warm up.”

Five minutes later, the battle began. The 30 of them worked together to take down three bosses. With a one-hour time limit, the bosses and mobs took about 45 minutes, leaving the rest of the time for the leader to auction off the loot.

They were lucky this time; an “Ultimate Treasure Chest” dropped. It contained the best top-tier gear in the entire server. Because it was incredibly expensive, most people couldn’t afford it. Only three or four people in the 30-man raid were actually bidding.

The person who had insulted Gu Shiwei was also bidding. Lin Qinghuan glanced at her bid price and curled her lip in disdain. With such measly strength, she dares to look down on us? Does she think Gu Shiwei is a pushover? This entire game was a gift from Gu Shiwei’s mother; in the future, Gu Shiwei was set to take over the Gu Corporation.

As far as Lin Qinghuan knew, both Wen Jian Jiang Hu and Zhaoyang (the company) were founded the year Gu Shiwei was born. Zhaoyang was even named after Gu Shiwei’s childhood nickname. For such a “small fry” to look down on the eldest Miss Gu was truly a case of “wielding an axe in front of Lu Ban”—pure ignorance.

Mingyue (Private to Zhaozhao): “Do you want this? [Ultimate Treasure Chest]”

Zhaozhao: “What’s wrong?”

Mingyue (Private to Zhaozhao): “If you like it, I’ll give it to you as an apprenticeship gift.”

Gu Shiwei’s hands rested on the keyboard, her fingertips trembling slightly. She took a deep breath and typed out a few words.

Zhaozhao: “Thank you, Master. I do want it, but I want to win the bid myself.”

Mingyue didn’t reply for a long time. When Gu Shiwei checked the team chat, she saw that Mingyue was already bidding. What usually cost a few thousand RMB had already reached 30,000 RMB because there was a genuine buyer on the other side. But Gu Shiwei, driven by pride, directly typed “100,000” into the team chat and hit enter.

The moment the message was sent, the chat exploded with: “??????”

No one expected a teammate who had been silent since the start to suddenly jump in at the critical moment and multiply the price several times over.

Gu Shiwei’s private messages blew up. Some accused her of faking wealth, warning her that if she couldn’t pay she’d be blacklisted on forums and Weibo; others congratulated her. Amidst the chaos, Gu Shiwei found the message from Mingyue.

Mingyue (Private to Zhaozhao): “I’ll help you pay.”

Four simple words, no judgment. They instantly bolstered Gu Shiwei’s confidence.

Of course, Gu Shiwei didn’t actually let Mingyue pay. She was worried about how to spend the money she had just topped up anyway; she didn’t lack the funds and paid instantly.

After the question marks in the team chat came Lin Qinghuan’s sarcastic remarks back at the girl. Gu Shiwei’s move had made Lin feel incredibly smug; the earlier frustration vanished, replaced by a desire to laugh at the “clown” who had mocked them.

Stunned, aren’t you? Your Sister Gu has nothing but money.

After the payment went through, the team chat was flooded with “Congratulations, Boss.” The earlier insults were buried under waves of joy.

Mingyue (Private to Zhaozhao): “That was a bit of an overpayment.”

Zhaozhao: “It’s fine. Can’t let people look down on us.”

Mingyue (Private to Zhaozhao): “What do you want for your apprenticeship gift?”

An apprenticeship gift? Gu Shiwei was hearing about this for the first time. Did she have to serve tea to her Master too?

Zhaozhao: “I haven’t thought of it yet. I’ll tell you when I do.”

Mingyue (Private to Zhaozhao): “Okay.”

After that day, Gu Shiwei and Lin Qinghuan became different people. They bought out the entire Mall and became two incredibly flashy “newbie-vets.”

Mingyue continued to lead these two flashy players through trials and dungeons every day. They played and bickered together for two years.

Two years passed, and the bond between the three grew closer. Until one day, Gu Shiwei finally made a bold request for her apprenticeship gift.

Zhaozhao: “I want to meet you in person.”

Mingyue: “Why?”

Zhaozhao: “I’ll tell you why after we meet.”

Mingyue: “Okay.”

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