Something’s off.
Yin Chen thought.
Zong Cheng has been acting weird lately!
He was certain of it.
He glanced at his phone.
Case solved!
Zong Cheng had been cutting back drastically on their gaming time together!
Before, they always played for at least two hours.
But ever since returning from the hot springs villa, Zong Cheng would log off precisely after two hours every day.
Yin Chen suddenly understood.
No wonder he was still stuck at Crown rank in Honor and hadn’t reached Ace!
Hiss—!
Yin Chen was annoyed.
Upset.
Even a little aggrieved. He opened the green app.
At times like this, only the recently double-updating author could lift his spirits!
“Looking for me? What is it? Copyrights are off-limits.”
Zong Cheng had an energy bar dangling from his mouth, fingers flying across the keyboard.
“…I know you’re not selling copyrights. I just wanted to ask… you… are you doing okay lately?”
The editor, tugging at his heart, silently cried countless times.
Why did Zong Cheng have to be so rich? So many companies had approached him about rights to this book, and he desperately wanted to see it sold for audiobooks, comics, anime—forget movies, those wouldn’t pass censorship anyway.
“Huh? Why ask that? I’m fine, of course.”
Crunching the energy bar, Zong Cheng glanced at the dense outline beside him, mind whirring, then quickly drafted a scene that would make readers squeal and cry.
“I mean… your recent updates!”
The editor admitted he felt conflicted even saying it!
Lately, it’s been so much fun!
This flaky king of authors had suddenly evolved into a double-update beast, dropping chapters every day. Yin Chen experienced joy and terror in equal measure with each chapter, dying over and over in the story!
At this rate…
One of us—my poor heart—will break first.
The editor patted his timid little heart, sighing meekly.
But…
“Have you been inspired recently? Or short on money? Suddenly bursting into double-updating mode—weren’t you saying you were stuck and out of ideas?”
How was he suddenly churning out content like there was no tomorrow?
“Huh? When did I ever say I was stuck?”
Zong Cheng scoffed. “Stuck? Me? Impossible. Could someone as awesome as me ever be stuck?”
Of course not!
Behold: the thick-skinned king of the internet has returned!
The editor was both stunned and thrilled. “Then… what about all that time you disappeared?”
“? Scholars have things to do. That’s not being flaky; that’s just temporarily unable to update.”
Fair enough. That plot twist would scare the readers silly—but what about Yin Chen…
Another spark of inspiration flashed through Zong Cheng’s mind. He grabbed a pen and paper and rapidly jotted down ideas for a new character.
“? You scholars really are something.”
The editor laughed angrily but couldn’t scold him.
He was trapped in this pit too!
And Zong Cheng was double-updating!
How could he complain? He’d rather carefully cradle him in his hands.
After some internal debate, the editor decided to coax him gently, subtly encouraging him to keep updating—ideally double updates until the story’s completion.
Once the call ended, the editor figured Zong Cheng would probably update soon. Double updates, the best!
After fixing the last typo, Zong Cheng glanced at the new chapter.
Not bad. Every line could make readers scream and cry in terror. Perfect.
He uploaded the update, then quickly opened Yin Chen’s WeChat.
“Game?”
“Game.”
“Now?”
“In five minutes.”
“√”
After this silent soul-connection, they both logged in five minutes later.
Zong Cheng signed in smoothly, eyes scanning the event tab—and noticed two new skins.
“New skins look pretty decent, huh?”
Skins?
Yin Chen glanced, then frowned.
“Green from head to toe… what’s decent about this? It’s practically glowing!”
Not appealing? Didn’t he like this?
Zong Cheng reasoned aloud: “The color matches the new map’s grass. In duo-queue, we often get surrounded. With this skin, we can play stealthy in the final circle.”
Sound logic.
Ah, so Yin Chen’s thoughts shifted. He looked at the green skin and actually liked it.
This skin might just save his life!
All good skins are winners!
This season, he’d reach Ace!
“Fine. I’ll get it. How much? Can I get it with 10k? Or is it luck-based?”
Yin Chen asked boldly without thinking.
“? Shouldn’t be that bad…”
Zong Cheng paused a second, checked the rules. This game was indeed a cash trap.
60 tokens per spin, rewards random—could get the skin outright, or just fragments ranging 1–8.
888 fragments to get the full skin.
Meaning…
Quick math in Zong Cheng’s mind: if you’re unlucky, at least 600R. Minimum.
Good. Truly a pay-to-win game.
He inhaled deeply.
“Try 1,000 first?”
Yin Chen didn’t care. “Sure.”
Zong Cheng nodded. “I’ll top up your account. Consider it a little thank-you for last Winter Solstice.”
His palms sweated. First time saying something like this.
Did it sound natural? Would Yin Chen accept?
Yin Chen’s eyes lit up.
“So this is what it feels like to have someone top-up your account? I wanna try!”
“Fine, log into my account; I’ll watch yours.”
Yin Chen immediately logged off.
Zong Cheng relaxed—but then heard Yin Chen say he wanted to check his account.
Wait… that meant logging into WeChat first!
Zong Cheng’s fingers flew.
He cleared and temporarily blocked WeChat friends, pinned work chats, cleaned up his Moments, then calmly logged in with Yin Chen.
He noticed something surprising—Yin Chen only had a few friends, the rest labeled as work contacts.
Brows furrowed.
Why so few friends?
Anyway, Yin Chen had been gaming with him every night after work, even at the villa during Winter Solstice.
Zong Cheng spent 8888 on Yin Chen’s account, then messaged “Done” to his own, logging off.
Already?
Yin Chen logged in, excited, ready to try it.
Spending someone else’s money on yourself—never done that before!
He saw: 8888!
Whoa—!
Truly CEO-level spending!
Obsessed with novels and quick to analyze fun, Yin Chen gasped.
He snapped a screenshot and posted on Weibo: “I’m being sponsored by a CEO! This is happiness!”
“Not enough? Want me to top up more?” Zong Cheng asked, voice deeper than usual.
“Sure!” Yin Chen said, and immediately did a ten-spin.
Green-tier helmet, nice.
Another spin! Green-tier backpack, also good.
Next spin!
Hiss—small frog charm???
Yin Chen stared at the tiny frog with eyes bigger than its body.
Well… it’s a gift, so okay.
Still… the green all around gave him an odd feeling.
Ah, it’s like a vast green meadow!
“Enough fragments?” Zong Cheng asked.
“Not yet…”
As he spoke, the BGM played, and a 20-second animation appeared: a golden treasure chest opened, revealing the green skin he wanted.
Ah—?
“Did I… get it in one spin?”
Yin Chen wasn’t sure. He had only done forty spins!
Zong Cheng’s 8888 covered less than a tenth.
For some reason, he felt a little less joy.
So this is the curse of a lucky god?
“Got the skin directly?”
Zong Cheng was stunned. Official probability: 0.01.
“Yep.”
Yin Chen equipped the helmet, backpack, skin, and frog charm.
In-game, they looked like stealthy ninjas.
So green.
Zong Cheng thought, then congratulated him:
“Nice luck. Want to try spinning for other items? Or the wooden warehouse skin? You’ve got plenty left.”
!
Zong Cheng is such a good guy!
I’m happy again!
Yin Chen eagerly spun ten after ten.
Zong Cheng joined in.
Spin one: fragment.
Spin two: fragment.
Spin three: fragment.
Spin four: fragment +1.
Zong Cheng’s face turned green.
After 3,000 spins, he saw only 200 fragments!
Gritting his teeth, he spent another 3,000, increasing fragments to 600.
Zong Cheng’s expression slowly ground down.
1,000 → 650.
3,000 → 810.
1,000 → 820.
Ha.
60 fragments left. He sneered.
Why do I earn money? To be scammed?
Challenge accepted—2,000 more. Ten spins.
Special BGM played. Zong Cheng froze.
Next second: golden chest animation—skin obtained!
…
@##￥￥# game!
You win!
Zong Cheng slammed the desk.
“Not done?” Yin Chen asked.
Zong Cheng took a deep breath, low voice: “Done.”
“Great! Tonight we play longer! I wanna try everything now!”
Yin Chen grinned mischievously behind the screen.
Even if he couldn’t question Zong Cheng, he could find an excuse to play longer!
Zong Cheng froze, then quickly agreed.
“Fine, all yours.”
As for the usual two-hour gaming, then writing the next day’s chapter?
Forget it. Skip it.
Author’s note: Zong Cheng: Life’s about priorities! Yin Chen’s requests and secretly making him happy—obviously the former comes first!
Readers being left hanging: Miss, you have no heart QAQ
Regarding these pay-to-win segments…
I can’t help but recall being scammed by the Ice Queen back then.
Especially discovering her bulky model after spending money—I vowed never to pay for that trash game again.
Not worth it!!!!!!