Couple's gaming booths—what’s so great about them?
Well, it’s all about the two computers placed side by side in a snug little room, radiating big-time ambiguous vibes.
Close the door, and it’s just the two of you—no outsiders allowed.
Su Bai knew some classmates with serious gaming addictions loved going to internet cafes for dates, turning their meetups into sweet duo-queue sessions.
The bolder ones even saved on hotel expenses.
The more upscale evolution of this? E-sports hotels, though naturally, the price tag climbs accordingly.
Su Bai wasn’t worried about money these days, but given Chen Yusheng’s socially awkward nature, an e-sports hotel was probably off the table. A couple’s booth, though? After a bit of hesitation, she followed him in.
Mainly because Su Bai had just topped up 5,000 yuan at the counter—with a promotion running: "Top up 5,000, get 5,000 free."
Then he casually mentioned that from now on, their gaming sessions here would be on his tab.
At first, Chen Yusheng refused, but Su Bai coaxed her with logic: "Since I’ve hired you, I should provide decent working conditions. Spending my money at the internet cafe is no different from a boss paying office rent—it’s only natural.
Since when do employees cover the rent for their workspace?"
Chen Yusheng paused. Huh. That actually made sense.
As a straight-laced STEM girl, she valued logic. And since Su Bai had logically convinced her, she obediently followed him into the couple’s booth.
Boot up.
Clock in… wait, no—log in.
"You went to pick up a car this morning?"
"Yep."
"What’d you do this afternoon?"
Chen Yusheng glanced at Su Bai, her cheeks faintly pink, and added, "Not trying to pry or anything. Just curious. You know, casual chat. No pressure to answer."
"No worries, we’re friends. Sharing daily stuff is normal. I went shopping in the afternoon, grabbed some pastries. Brought them here—snacks for when we get hungry mid-game."
Su Bai placed the box of artisanal Chinese bakery treats on the desk, right between their monitors.
Say what you will about internet-famous desserts, but one thing’s undeniable: they look damn good.
Chen Yusheng audibly swallowed but kept her face stoic.
"I’m not hungry."
"Okay."
"Logging in."
"Me too. Let’s go."
And so, the fun began.
Time flies when you’re immersed in battle. Before Su Bai knew it, their two-hour gaming session was almost up.
The room-service dinner they’d ordered earlier hadn’t been filling, and now, barely past 9 p.m., his stomach was growling.
He reached for the pastry box—only to find it empty.
…Huh?
Seriously? When did you—?
Su Bai hadn’t noticed a thing. Impressive stealth, Chen Yusheng.
When his gaze landed on her, she feigned innocence. Under his stare, she finally cracked, murmuring, "Sorry. I kinda… ate them all."
"Hey, no big deal. Did you skip dinner before coming?"
"No, I ate."
"Then you didn’t eat enough."
"…Yeah."
"Things that tight financially?"
"It’s not like I can’t afford food. Just been busy, no appetite… But those pastries were amazing."
Chen Yusheng licked her lips, looking like a starved kitten who had just discovered cream. The contrast between her cool demeanor and that adorable expression was striking.
Su Bai grinned. "Let’s fix that appetite. Come on, late-night snacks on me."
Chen Yusheng almost refused. Su Bai treating her again meant more spending—even if money wasn’t an issue for him.
But her pride was a stubborn thing.
Ever since her mother fell ill, Chen Yusheng had faced too much cruelty from the world. Su Bai, though? He’d shown her nothing but kindness.
Good people shouldn’t be taken advantage of, and good men shouldn’t be treated like ATMs.
Watching her hesitate, Su Bai’s solution was simple:
He opened WeChat and transferred her 400 yuan.
Chen Yusheng: "?"
New gig: Keep me company for hot pot. Two hours, same rate as gaming.
"…This feels wrong."
"Why? I won’t bite."
"That’s not what I—ugh, fine."
Chen Yusheng surrendered.
Hot pot with Su Bai couldn’t be that expensive, right?
Then they reached the underground parking lot.
The Mercedes GLE’s unlock chirp echoed, its headlights flashing as the imposing black silhouette emerged from the shadows.
Luxury cars—especially tall SUVs—carry an unspoken intimidation for the uninitiated.
"This the car you picked up today?"
"Mm."
"It’s gorgeous." Chen Yusheng hesitated, then asked, "Can I sit in the passenger seat?"
"Of course. Why not?" Su Bai chuckled.
"I heard that seat’s reserved for girlfriends or wives. Not just any girl."
"So? I don’t have a girlfriend."
As he said it, an image of Zhou Jialu, his senior, flickered in his mind.
Technically, he’d never called her his girlfriend.
Why stick to old-school romance when you’re living the high life?
More close companions, each in their own lane—wasn’t that the dream?
Chen Yusheng, cute and gaming-savvy; Zhou Jialu, alluring and full of surprises.
Legs for days here, curves for days there.
No overlap, no drama.
Perfection.
Romantically, Su Bai was a staunch reformist.
"You don’t have a girlfriend? …Okay, then."
Chen Yusheng climbed in, relieved.
Had Su Bai been taken, she’d have kept her distance. But he wasn’t.
And that stirred something unnecessary in her chest.
Her musings ended as they pulled up to their destination.
Staring at the restaurant’s grand entrance, Chen Yusheng deadpanned, "This looks like a place for hot pot?"
"What does it look like to you?"
"Some overpriced, tasteless Western joint."
“Ha! Accurate.” Su Bai laughed. “But a friend recommended this place. It’s sour soup hot pot—a regional specialty from the southwest. Great for reviving your appetite.”
"Oh."
Inside, the tangy aroma hit Chen Yusheng immediately.
Her stomach growled in approval.
Nervous in unfamiliar upscale settings, she stayed quiet, eyes down.
Social anxiety at work.
No matter—Su Bai ordered the works: every appealing item on the menu, a lavish spread.
High-end hot pot, a trend popularized by Shanghai’s "foreign-style" hot pot spots, had reached Jiangcheng. The presentation might differ (like this sour twist), but the core of its premium pricing remained unchanged.
"Upscale" dining ambiance, "upscale" service, and "upscale" ingredients.
nto another world, I bought a slave for the first time, never expecting the silver wolf girl to be so cute... Lin Feng: I know it's cold, but you don't have to sneak into my bed! Yuna: Just sharing body warmth, if you dare do anything naughty, I'll definitely...
transmigrates into the world as the sect master of the Heavenly Yan Sect, which is on the verge of being wiped out. He binds a system that grants him cultivation power based on the number of disciples he has: for each disciple, he automatically gains a year's worth of cultivation every single day! Take one disciple: every day he gains 1 year of cultivation power. While others struggle through a year of bitter training, he gets the same just by sleeping through a single night. Take ten disciples: every day he gains 10 years of cultivation power. Foundation Establishment, Core Formation, Nascent Soul—he breezes through all bottlenecks without lifting a finger. Take one hundred disciples: every day he gains 100 years of cultivation power. Even a Soul Transformation Venerable before him can’t survive a single blow. Take ten thousand disciples: every day he gains 10,000 years of cultivation power! With a wave of his hand, he topples empires. With a single step, he crushes the sacred grounds of the universe. ... While others fight tooth and nail for secret techniques, Lin Yan casually hands out Nascent Soul-level cultivation manuals as beginner textbooks. While others strain to find talented recruits, Lin Yan opens his doors to anyone—so long as they’re human. In just three short years, the Heavenly Yan Sect went from a backwater sect made up of three crumbling huts to a sacred land that every cultivator under heaven would kill to enter. ... One day, otherworldly demon gods invade, with a million demon soldiers pressing down upon the realm. Lin Yan, yawning, rises from his lounge chair and glances at the system panel: [Current Disciples: 1.28 million] [Daily Cultivation Increase: 1.28 million years] He waves his hand casually, and the countless demon soldiers are reduced to ashes in an instant. “So noisy… interrupting my fishing.”
he colors of other people’s emotions. Light red meant anxiety. Gray meant exhaustion. Orange meant excitement. Yellow... meant repression. At the same time, he could gain unlimited control over one of those colors. Pale cyan: relaxation. Using this ability, he started offering “two-yuan hugs,” spending an afternoon exchanging emotional-color experiences with others. Then came his final female customer of the day— a girl whose emotional color was pure black... —— A week later, Xu Chuan had become skilled at using pale cyan—Relaxation—treating it like a bottle of menthol balm whenever he needed it. That was when he discovered he had unlocked another unlimited emotional color: Purple, the color of fear. So these emotional colors refresh every week? Fine, I take it back—I’ll never call you useless again... —— Much later, after Xu Chuan had accumulated countless emotional abilities, one night, he suddenly found himself inside someone else’s dream. There, he could use the emotional colors he possessed to paint. And in her dream, he painted her a shower of pink shooting stars, spreading across the depths of the night sky...
ions, keeping it grounded and realistic】 After quitting his job, office worker Su Yang accidentally binds with the "Enjoy Life System." As the name suggests, simply by indulging in life's pleasures, he can earn random rewards from the system—no need to spend money on beautiful women or grovel before anyone. Just enjoy, and the money follows, making it all about effortless fun. The system comes with a scanning feature, allowing him to establish a favorability bond with women rated 85 points or above. Every 20-point increase in favorability unlocks additional rewards. After suffering through over twenty years of hardship, Su Yang trembles with excitement, his dull eyes suddenly gleaming with newfound hope. "Enjoy life? How hard could that be?"
