My Unconventional Online Romance - Chapter 2
The woman in red gazed at Xiao Nianyuan with a smile, waiting for her praise. Xiao Nianyuan lowered her head and stared for a moment before suddenly shaking off the woman’s hand. Confused, the woman asked, “Are you angry?”
Xiao Nianyuan frowned. “No, I just don’t like physical contact with others.”
She clutched the hand that had just been touched, hesitating for a long while before finally forcing out another sentence: “Thank you. I’m leaving.”
With that, she turned and walked away. The woman in red called out, “Hey—” and quickly followed. But every time she took a step closer, Xiao Nianyuan’s frown deepened, forcing her to keep her distance. “My name is Lian Qiushui,” she said. “What’s yours?”
“We won’t meet again.” Xiao Nianyuan didn’t even want to share her name. This was her first time logging in—and the last. She would return the items later and never cross paths with Lian Qiushui again. Since that was the case, there was no need to exchange names.
“Don’t be so absolute. We might see each other again sooner than you think,” Lian Qiushui replied, either oblivious to Xiao Nianyuan’s rejection or choosing to ignore it. “Whether we meet again or not doesn’t change the fact that I want to know your name.”
Xiao Nianyuan paused. “If I tell you, will you stop following me?”
Having Lian Qiushui beside her made her skin crawl. She disliked talking to others, yet her body inexplicably wanted to draw closer, as if Lian Qiushui possessed some magnetic pull.
This feeling was unbearable. Xiao Nianyuan hated it.
Lian Qiushui blinked, then grinned. “Isn’t that a bit unfair?”
Xiao Nianyuan remained expressionless. “No. It’s your choice.”
Lian Qiushui chuckled. “Even if I learn your name, I won’t leave.”
“Do you realize,” Xiao Nianyuan inhaled sharply, unable to hold back, “how annoying you are?”
Lian Qiushui froze—just for a second—before countering, “Do you really find me annoying?”
She seemed unable to believe Xiao Nianyuan could dislike her.
“Yes.”
“Is that so?” Lian Qiushui sighed. “Then could you let go of my sash?”
“Wh-what?”
Lian Qiushui lowered her gaze, and Xiao Nianyuan followed her line of sight—only to see her own fingers clutching the sash, the tips of her pale fingers flushed from the tight grip.
Xiao Nianyuan yanked her hand back, hiding it behind her, and stared awkwardly at the ground, lips pressed tightly together.
“If you like it, I don’t mind,” Lian Qiushui said, offering the sash to her. “But it’s better to be honest. You clearly like me.”
“I don’t,” Xiao Nianyuan retorted. She didn’t want to, yet sometimes she unconsciously did strange things. That was one reason she avoided prolonged contact with others.
Lian Qiushui studied her quietly before asking, puzzled, “Why deny it?”
Xiao Nianyuan opened her mouth, instinctively ready to refute—but wouldn’t that just prove Lian Qiushui right?
At a loss for words, she chose silence. In the past, this tactic had always worked—those who tried to engage with her, whether well-meaning or not, would eventually leave. She had relied on this method for over a decade, and it had never failed.
But the person before her suddenly fell still. Lian Qiushui tilted her head, circled her twice, then simply stood beside her, as if perfectly content to accompany Xiao Nianyuan in her silence.
After standing for ten minutes with no sign of the person beside her leaving, Xiao Nianyuan subtly took a small step to the side. Her feet had gone numb from staying still for too long, and she gingerly lifted them, afraid to put them down fully.
Lian Qiushui was stubborn, but Xiao Nianyuan was even more so.
In the end, it was Lian Qiushui who broke the silence: “Are you planning to stay silent forever?”
Xiao Nianyuan: “Don’t you have anything better to do?”
Lian Qiushui thought for a moment and said, “I do.”
Xiao Nianyuan sighed in relief—until Lian Qiushui continued, “I want to be friends with you.”
Xiao Nianyuan: “…”
It seemed Lian Qiushui had even more free time than she’d imagined. Xiao Nianyuan changed the subject: “I’m logging off.”
At this point, even if Lian Qiushui wanted to stay in the game longer, she shouldn’t keep pestering her.
“Alright,” Lian Qiushui replied, but she didn’t leave. Her striking peach-blossom eyes remained fixed on Xiao Nianyuan.
After a long wait with Xiao Nianyuan still there, Lian Qiushui said considerately, “Go ahead and log off. Don’t worry about me—I’ll be fine on my own.”
Though she said that, there was a hint of grievance on her face.
Xiao Nianyuan wanted to log off too, but she had to complete a task first—she needed to successfully find a master before she could leave.
The task was strange, but Xiao Nianyuan had no choice. The system wouldn’t let her log off, and she couldn’t find another way around it.
Lowering her head, she muttered, “I have to find a master first.”
Xiao Nianyuan didn’t explain why, and Lian Qiushui didn’t ask. Instead, she pointed at herself and asked, “Can I be your master?”
“No.”
Xiao Nianyuan didn’t want to get too involved with others, whether in real life or in the game.
Before Lian Qiushui could ask why, Xiao Nianyuan explained first: “I don’t want to play with other players.”
She wouldn’t take a player as her master, nor would she team up with one.
Lian Qiushui nodded. “I know where to find NPCs.”
Since entering the game, the so-called system had provided no tutorial, no guide, not even a basic map. Xiao Nianyuan genuinely had no idea where to find NPCs.
Having Lian Qiushui lead the way would be faster than wandering around aimlessly. Finishing the task sooner meant logging off sooner.
Earlier, the scenery had tempted Xiao Nianyuan to stay a little longer, but the sudden transformation of the rabbit had killed her mood.
There was nothing worth lingering for in this game.
As they walked, Lian Qiushui asked, “Do you like rabbits?”
“…Not really.” The memory of the rabbit from earlier made Xiao Nianyuan shudder. Claiming she wasn’t scared would be a lie—she rarely played games, let alone horror ones. A cute rabbit turning into a monster in an instant? If given the choice, she’d prefer to be scared offline automatically.
Lian Qiushui nodded vaguely and didn’t press the topic, awkwardly switching to another: “What kind of master are you looking for?”
Though the question was forced, it wasn’t entirely out of place. Xiao Nianyuan glanced at her before looking away. “Anyone.”
“If it’s anyone, then I—”
“No.”
“Oh.”
They passed many players along the way. A few asked Xiao Nianyuan if she wanted to team up, but she shook her head in refusal. They were probably just asking casually, so they moved on after being turned down.
Strangely, no one invited Lian Qiushui to join them. Xiao Nianyuan suddenly stopped walking and hesitantly asked, “You’re not a player?”
Lian Qiushui was idly twirling a tree branch in her hand. Hearing this, she nodded. “Nope.”
She admitted it so readily that Xiao Nianyuan suspected she was a player pretending to be an NPC just to mess with her.
“Really,” Lian Qiushui said with a hint of embarrassment but mostly pride. “Does it not seem like it?”
Xiao Nianyuan looked Lian Qiushui up and down. Her tone of voice, movements, and expressions were all incredibly natural.
Could an NPC really be this advanced?
Before playing the game, Xiao Nianyuan had heard that the NPCs in this game were built using vast amounts of reference data, making them different from older games. They weren’t just models that mimicked human speech—they could think independently, truly qualifying as real AI.
Xiao Nianyuan hadn’t taken it seriously. The topic of AI had been hyped for years. Every time some marketing account claimed that a certain AI was the “real deal,” crowds would rush to test it, only to find it was still just basic data. Most couldn’t even remember what had been said moments earlier.
Xiao Nianyuan had never been easily fooled. Unless she saw something with her own eyes, she wouldn’t believe it. AI? She had never bought into it.
“Prove it.”
Lian Qiushui scratched her head. “You’re the first person to ask me to prove I’m not a player.”
Xiao Nianyuan stared at her. Lian Qiushui clasped her hands behind her back and said, “Simple—I don’t have a social account.”
“Social account?”
“Mm.” Lian Qiushui grabbed Xiao Nianyuan’s hand. Xiao Nianyuan tried to pull away, but Lian Qiushui tightened her grip. “If I were a player, doing this would prompt you to add me as a friend.”
Xiao Nianyuan yanked her hand back. “I’ve never added anyone else. How would I know if that’s true?”
Lian Qiushui shrugged. “You could try with someone else?”
Xiao Nianyuan: “…”
If she were willing to test it with someone else, she wouldn’t have asked Lian Qiushui directly. That would be no different from admitting she knew nothing.
“Why don’t you ever believe me?” Lian Qiushui pouted, looking hurt. “I warned you about that rabbit earlier, and you didn’t listen then either.”
“You’re an NPC. Why should I believe you?”
Lian Qiushui looked baffled. “But you didn’t believe I was an NPC?”
Xiao Nianyuan: “Now I do.”
Lian Qiushui let out an “oh” and pointed ahead. “We’re almost there.”
Xiao Nianyuan didn’t move. Lian Qiushui asked, “Something else on your mind?”
“…No.” But Xiao Nianyuan still didn’t move, just kept staring at Lian Qiushui.
If Lian Qiushui was telling the truth, wouldn’t it be even more convenient to take her as a master?
Thinking of the advantage, Xiao Nianyuan lowered her voice. “Does what you said earlier still count?”
“What did I say?” Lian Qiushui blinked, confused. “That I wasn’t lying?”
“Before that.”
“Before?” Lian Qiushui froze, brows furrowing as if trying to recall.
That hesitation didn’t seem like AI behavior at all. Even if an AI didn’t know the answer, it would quickly deflect.
“You’re really not a player?”
Lian Qiushui laughed. “Whatever you want. If you’d rather I be one, then sure, I am.”
“I’m serious. If you really are an NPC, there’s something I need from you.”
“Just name it. If I can do it, I will.”
“I want to—”
Just as Xiao Nianyuan started speaking, the long-absent system suddenly chimed in:
“Master-disciple bonds cannot be undone once formed. Choose carefully.”
The system’s warning didn’t sound like a mere reminder—it felt more like a caution against choosing an NPC.
Xiao Nianyuan ignored him and continued, “I want you to be my—”
“Please note, please consider carefully.”
Interrupted twice, Xiao Nianyuan fell silent.
Lian Qiushui pressed, “What?”
“Wait a minute, now I believe you’re an NPC,” Xiao Nianyuan said sincerely. “Give me a moment.”
Just as Xiao Nianyuan was about to ask, the system considerately said, “You can communicate with me just by thinking about it.”
“You’re invading my privacy?”
System: “No, I only hear you when you want me to.”
Xiao Nianyuan didn’t have time to verify if the system was telling the truth. “I want to log off. To log off, I need to take a master. I’m going to take a master now—whether you’re an NPC or not has nothing to do with you.”
System: “You can log off without taking a master.”
Xiao Nianyuan was stunned. “Didn’t you say I couldn’t log off?”
System: “Just kidding. What kind of game would do something like that?”
Xiao Nianyuan: “…”
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