15: Chapter 15 Master and the Substitute Loser

This was very awkward.

The air seemed to be suddenly sucked dry, leaving only a suffocating sense of stagnation. An Ran, who had been about to slam the table and stand up, froze in mid-motion the instant that cold, clear voice fell.

Her neck turned stiffly, her movements as slow as a rusty, long-neglected robot.

Leng Qingxuan.

Even with the thick nerves of someone from the Sports Department like An Ran, she couldn't keep her composure in the face of that name.

There were simply too many legends about this "Iceberg Campus Belle" in this university, so many that it made people feel like she wasn't even on the same plane of existence as ordinary students.

At this moment, this legendary figure was standing by the table, holding that pack of wet wipes, her expression as indifferent as if she were looking at weeds by the roadside, completely lacking any self-awareness of being an "eavesdropper."

An Ran's brain crashed, her CPU fried.

She had anticipated countless possibilities.

But she had never imagined it would be someone like Leng Qingxuan.

Is this reasonable?

It was like you were fighting slimes in the newbie village, and suddenly a Demon King descended from the sky saying they wanted to fight you for the loot.

An Ran subconsciously looked down at herself.

To make the physical fitness test this afternoon easier, she had deliberately worn this loose sportswear, and because she had run over so hurriedly, her pant cuffs were even stained with a bit of dust.

Although her hair was tied up high, loose strands from running were sticking messily to her forehead.

Then look at the person in front of her.

Even wearing the simplest casual clothes, that sense of refinement seeping from her very bones couldn't be covered up at all.

Her long, straight black hair was as smooth as if she had just had a professional treatment, her skin was so white it reflected light, and that cold, aloof temperament turned the surrounding few square meters directly into her home turf.

She lost.

Before the fight even started, her health bar was already half empty.

An unprecedented sense of frustration, mixed with the sour taste of lemons, burned all the way down An Ran's throat into her stomach.

She felt like an unpolished tomboy, while the other was a fully evolved goddess.

How could she compare?

With her head?

Huang Mao sat in his chair, his eyelids twitching twice.

This wasn't right.

According to the original script, this young lady should be outside looking at the scenery, or in a toilet stall scrolling through her phone—in any case, she absolutely shouldn't be here, and certainly shouldn't have jumped into this Shura field voluntarily.

He looked up at Leng Qingxuan, his eyes full of the question, "What the hell are you doing?"

Leng Qingxuan received his gaze.

She didn't avoid it; instead, meeting Huang Mao's eyes, the corners of her mouth curled up ever so slightly.

The smile was very faint, so faint that if you didn't look closely, you wouldn't notice it at all, carrying a hint of slyness from a successful prank.

She ignored the petrified An Ran beside her, very naturally handed a wet wipe to Huang Mao, and then spoke in a tone only the two of them could understand.

"Master."

The moment those two syllables were uttered, Huang Mao almost couldn't keep his expression together.

Leng Qingxuan's voice wasn't actually loud, but in this eerie silence, it was terrifyingly clear.

"Actually, last night I was just watching you play and forgot there was still a high-difficulty level in Chaldea I hadn't cleared. The mechanics are too complex, and I haven't cleared it before; after school, when we get home, can you help me?"

Huang Mao: "..."

This woman was doing it on purpose.

Absolutely on purpose.

"Chaldea," "high-difficulty level"—these were indeed slang from that 2D mobile game.

If it were any other time, this would just be a perfectly normal request for help.

But in this context, at this point in time, calling it out in front of An Ran... this was simply asking for trouble on purpose.

Sure enough.

An Ran, beside him, shuddered, her face instantly turning two shades paler.

Although she didn't play that game, she had done her homework to get closer to Huang Mao.

She knew what that word meant and that it was gaming terminology.

But setting the game aside, the meaning of the word "Master" itself was...

If this were put in some strange context...

An Ran's brain uncontrollably began to play some content that I could only see on paid channels.

The Iceberg Campus Belle, in private, calls Huang Mao "Master"?

And at night?

And she wants to go home and have him "help her"?

The amount of information was so massive it could crush her worldview and reassemble it eight hundred times.

She looked at Leng Qingxuan in horror, as if meeting this famous school-wide highland flower for the first time.

What happened to not eating the food of mortals?

What happened to keeping strangers at a distance?

Is this the legendary contrast?

This is too foul!

Seeming to have enjoyed the expression of world-view collapse on An Ran's face enough, Leng Qingxuan slowly turned her head and looked directly at this childhood sweetheart.

"Hello."

She nodded slightly, polite to a fault, her tone as calm as stating "The weather is nice today."

"As you can see, I am the 'friend' who stayed at his house last night."

"Due to some family reasons, I have temporarily run away from home, and Student Huang Mao kindly took me in for a few nights. We are just ordinary classmates, please don't misunderstand him."

Every word and sentence was an explanation.

Every word and sentence was a distancing.

It sounded so magnanimous, so sensible, so considerate of others.

But to An Ran, this translation was:

—I am the one who lives at his house.

—I am the one he takes special care of.

—You are an outsider, don't think too much; although we live together, we are very "innocent."

What is this feeling of a main wife soothing an ignorant concubine?

And that phrase "Student Huang Mao kindly took me in," paired with her expression of taking it for granted, was practically saying, "This man is under my management."

Huang Mao listened from the side, wanting to cover his face.

He finally understood.

This young lady, who was usually stifled, wasn't here to explain at all.

She was treating this as a live-action RPG game, playing the role of the "scheming main wife" to have some fun.

That "Master" from just now was probably a line she had prepared long ago, just waiting to deal critical damage at this moment.

This girl, if you cut her open, she's definitely black inside.

An Ran's hands on her lap gripped the fabric of her pants tightly, her knuckles turning white.

The advantage of being a childhood sweetheart for many years seemed as fragile as a soaked tissue in front of this bombshell that had fallen from the sky.

Living together.

A shared secret.

A term of address only they understood.

Every single point was frantically stepping on An Ran's landmines.

The retreat drum in her heart started beating again, and it was deafening.

Run.

Just like before, when encountering a situation she couldn't handle, run first, go back, hide under the covers and cry, and pretend nothing happened.

She couldn't win anyway.

She was the campus belle, a goddess, and what was she? A tomboy who only knew how to run behind his butt?

An Ran's butt had already lifted slightly off the chair, a physical, instinctual reaction to run.

But at that very moment.

She saw the eye contact between Huang Mao and Leng Qingxuan.

Huang Mao frowned helplessly, Leng Qingxuan blinked innocently.

That unspoken tacit understanding, that atmosphere that felt like an air wall had been erected around them, isolating her outside.

If she didn't do something.

If she didn't do something right here.

Then in the future, there might truly be no place for her in Huang Mao's world.

Once this thought appeared, the bit of cowardice in An Ran's heart was suddenly burned away by a surge of inexplicable, wicked fire.

Why?

It was clearly me who came first.

It was clearly me who accompanied him for so many years.

Why should you, someone who fell from the sky and stayed for a few days, be able to ride on top of me?

An Ran took a deep breath and forcibly suppressed the urge to run away.

No retreating!

This time, there is no retreating!