My Unconventional Online Dating - Chapter 52

“Snake?” Xiao Nianyuan froze, speaking softly, “It’s okay, come out slowly. Don’t startle it.”

Xiao Nianyuan had never soaked in a hot spring in real life and wasn’t sure if snakes could appear in them. She could only rely on instinct to comfort Lian Qiushui, thinking first of how to get her out of the water.

Lian Qiushui reached out and grabbed Xiao Nianyuan’s hand, her fingers still trembling. Just as Xiao Nianyuan began pulling her up, Lian Qiushui suddenly yanked her into the hot spring. Warm water splashed everywhere, instantly waking her up.

There was no snake in the hot spring—Lian Qiushui had deliberately tricked her into coming closer just to pull her in. Xiao Nianyuan stared at her speechlessly. “Where did you learn this?”

The old Lian Qiushui would never have done something like this. She wasn’t just bad at pranks; she could barely even joke properly.

“Let’s soak a little longer.”

“I’m tired,” Xiao Nianyuan said, already moving to get up.

Lian Qiushui held her tightly. “Just a little longer.”

Amused, Xiao Nianyuan asked, “Do you have some kind of quota to make sure I soak for a set amount of time?”

“No, it’s just that hot springs help relieve fatigue. You looked so exhausted earlier—if you stay in a bit longer, you won’t feel as tired.”

From Lian Qiushui’s perspective, her intentions were good. But Xiao Nianyuan couldn’t help pointing out, “Sleeping also helps relieve fatigue.”

Lian Qiushui blinked at her, as if this possibility had never occurred to her.

“You don’t usually sleep?” Seeing her expression, Xiao Nianyuan vaguely guessed the truth and asked in disbelief, “They didn’t program a sleep system for you?”

“No…” Lian Qiushui’s voice was small.

Xiao Nianyuan sighed, though on reflection, it made sense. Allowing NPCs to think was already a breakthrough—why bother with something as seemingly insignificant as a sleep system? Whether NPCs dreamed or not had no impact on the game.

Pityingly, she stroked Lian Qiushui’s head. “I’ll give feedback and ask them to add a sleep system for you.”

Whether the game company would actually implement it was their concern. The most Xiao Nianyuan could do was relay the request.

“If there’s a sleep system… will I share a dream with you?” Lian Qiushui asked hopefully.

“Probably not the same dream, but you might dream about me.”

Lian Qiushui gazed at her. The hot spring was small, leaving them sitting so close their limbs brushed against each other. With a slight movement, Lian Qiushui wrapped an arm around Xiao Nianyuan’s shoulders, half-embracing her. The contact with her smooth skin lifted her mood further. “Do you ever dream about me?”

Did she dream about her?

Xiao Nianyuan hesitated. Though dreams were uncontrollable, the question made her think—if she dreamed, would Lian Qiushui appear?

Her sleep quality was poor, often filled with strange dreams. For her, dreaming was a common occurrence.

But she had never considered dreaming of something specific. Dreams were just dreams—everything in them was fake. Knowing that, why chase after unrealistic fantasies?

If it was a good dream, waking up would only bring a crushing sense of loss. If it was a nightmare, there was even less reason to wish for it.

Now, Lian Qiushui was asking if she dreamed of her.

If she answered that she wanted to dream of her, Lian Qiushui would probably be delighted. But Xiao Nianyuan didn’t respond that way.

“If I want to see you, I’ll log in to meet you. Why rely on dreaming about you?”

Lian Qiushui stared blankly at Xiao Nianyuan, who pulled down the hands clinging to her and gently squeezed her fingers. “The you in my dreams could never compare to the you right here.”

Xiao Nianyuan was simply stating a fact based on her own feelings, but to Lian Qiushui, those words sounded no different from a confession. Xiao Nianyuan had said she would come to see her if she wanted to, that she preferred standing before her in reality rather than meeting in dreams.

Lian Qiushui pressed her lips together, a pang of regret settling in. The longing to be with Xiao Nianyuan every moment was hers alone—who could she confide in about these feelings? Who would understand?

“Sleep. I won’t log off tonight.”

Xiao Nianyuan stood, wrapping a nearby towel around herself. Lian Qiushui still hadn’t gotten up, so she extended a hand. “Don’t pull me back in this time.”

Holding Xiao Nianyuan’s hand to stand, Lian Qiushui had no intention of dragging her back into the hot spring. She had only wanted Xiao Nianyuan to soak longer to ease her fatigue. If sleep could do the same, why trouble her further?

After the hot spring, they needed to rinse off. They took turns, one after the other. By the time Lian Qiushui stepped out, Xiao Nianyuan was already lying in bed, eyes closed in sleep.

Moving quietly to the bedside, Lian Qiushui climbed onto the spacious bed—more than enough for two—her gaze never leaving Xiao Nianyuan, careful not to disturb her rest.

She didn’t need sleep. In the past, when Xiao Nianyuan wasn’t around, she would occupy herself with tasks, setting them aside an hour or two before Xiao Nianyuan was due to log in, waiting in silence for her arrival.

Now, with Xiao Nianyuan asleep, she could have busied herself as usual—earning money, perhaps, or finding ways to boost her combat strength.

But watching Xiao Nianyuan’s peaceful face, Lian Qiushui felt an unusual calm. She didn’t want to do anything else, content just to watch her sleep.

Xiao Nianyuan slept soundly, lying perfectly still, barely shifting, her breathing steady. Her lashes occasionally fluttered but soon settled.

If only things could stay like this forever. The thought startled Lian Qiushui. She cherished the time they spent together, yet she knew this wish could never come true. Xiao Nianyuan couldn’t remain in the game forever, no matter how much time she was willing to spare.

And one day, whether the servers shut down or Xiao Nianyuan simply stopped playing, their separation would be final—irrevocable.

Lian Qiushui shook her head vigorously. Why dwell on such thoughts now? At least Xiao Nianyuan cared for her now, still played with her. That should be enough.

She told herself she should be satisfied—but deep down, she knew the truth.

Lying on her side, Lian Qiushui watched Xiao Nianyuan, her mind emptying until only her eyes remained fixed on her. If not for the slow rise and fall of her chest and the occasional blink, she might have been mistaken for a lifeless doll.

Fortunately, Xiao Nianyuan didn’t wake in the middle of the night. Had she opened her eyes to find Lian Qiushui’s gleaming stare in the dark, she would have been terrified, limbs trembling.

–

Xiao Nianyuan heard someone calling her to wake up. She slowly opened her eyes and paused for a moment upon seeing Lian Qiushui’s face before remembering where she was and what was happening.

“Good morning.” Lian Qiushui greeted her with a bright smile, more dazzling than the sunlight outside the window.

“…Morning.” Xiao Nianyuan mumbled sleepily in response.

“Don’t you have an early class today? Time to get up.”

It took Xiao Nianyuan a couple of seconds to process what “early class” meant before she abruptly sat up. Then she remembered she was still in the game—getting up and washing up here wouldn’t help; she needed to log out first. She looked at Lian Qiushui, about to speak, but Lian Qiushui stepped forward and hugged her first.

“Go on. Come back tonight.”

Xiao Nianyuan hugged her tightly in return before logging out.

When she woke up in the real world, she saw that all three of her roommates were already awake, staring at her as if watching something amusing.

She hadn’t closed her bed curtains when logging in last night, so the moment she opened her eyes, she met their gazes. Embarrassed, she asked, “Why didn’t you wake me up for class?”

Ji Rongxue replied, “We just woke up too and were about to call you.”

Xiao Nianyuan looked at her, then belatedly asked, “Weren’t you at the hospital yesterday? When did you get back?”

“I logged in after returning,” Ji Rongxue explained. “Did you forget we have a quiz today?”

Xiao Nianyuan hesitated. “…Your health is more important than a quiz.”

“The doctor said I’m fine. I’ll go back to the hospital after the quiz.”

Since she insisted, Xiao Nianyuan had no choice but to relent—after all, quiz scores counted heavily toward their final grades.

Tan Xialan asked curiously, “So? How did you sleep last night?”

“Fine.”

Xiao Nianyuan answered vaguely. In truth, she had slept incredibly well—unlike usual, when she often woke up in the middle of the night, last night she hadn’t stirred once.

“I slept really well too, though I don’t know if it’s just my imagination,” Tan Xialan sighed contentedly. “If sleeping in-game is actually better than real life, I might just log in every night to sleep.”

Du Xiaotong rapped Tan Xialan lightly on the head. “Games are games. If you sleep in-game, is that playing or resting?”

Rubbing her head, Tan Xialan pouted. “But I really felt more comfortable sleeping in-game. Maybe their tech is just that good—maybe it really helps you sleep better.”

“It’s all in your head,” Ji Rongxue said flatly.

“Let’s just get to class,” Xiao Nianyuan interjected helplessly. She, too, had felt that she slept better in-game, but she had no intention of making it a habit. Once logged in, unless someone manually turned off her device, she couldn’t sense anything happening in the real world. What if something urgent happened while she was in-game? She’d have no way of knowing.

The four of them dropped the topic, quickly freshened up, and headed to class.

On the way, Xiao Nianyuan noticed many people glancing at her—though their gazes held no hostility, most were filled with pity. The school must have already cleared her name, so now everyone knew she was the victim.

Xiao Nianyuan didn’t care how they saw her, just as she hadn’t cared before whether they suspected her of being the scammer.

She only needed to care about the people who cared about her.

At their university, each subject was taught in two consecutive class periods—one for lectures, the other for quizzes. The morning session would be no different.

After finishing the exam, students could leave once they handed in their papers. Xiao Nianyuan wrote quickly and was usually among the first three to leave. This time, even though many were still writing when she finished, she didn’t linger in the classroom and got up to submit her paper first.

Once outside, Xiao Nianyuan hesitated for a moment before finding a spot to sit down. Though Ji Rongxue and the others hadn’t asked her to wait, she decided to stay for them—after all, they were friends now.

Among her three roommates, Ji Rongxue came out relatively quickly. When she saw Xiao Nianyuan waiting, she seemed surprised. She sat down beside her and smiled, which Xiao Nianyuan returned.

After a brief silence, Ji Rongxue asked, “Are you looking for a place called Sky City in the game?”