Chapter 111: You Have Come to Love Me

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Xiaohuan enjoyed a sumptuous dinner and found herself increasingly satisfied with Gu Qianyan. The more they talked, the more common ground they discovered—it was almost as if she was ready to hand over Xu Nuo to Gu Qianyan herself.

“Sister Xu,” Xiaohuan said earnestly before leaving, “though I call you sister, in my heart you’ve always been the little sister who needs care.”

Xu Nuo was remarkable—not just skilled with her hands and feet, but resilient enough to weather the storms of society alone, returning safely from a turbulent time in K country... Over more than twenty years, her spirit had grown so strong that no matter how dire her circumstances, she never succumbed to despair; she always managed to rise again from adversity.

She was a survivor, accustomed to trudging through hardship and misery, but she never learned how to properly care for herself in a normal environment. Even after living more than two decades, she still hadn’t learned to cook. For her, as long as the food was edible and kept hunger at bay, that was enough. She wasn’t good at improving her quality of life—she simply got by.

If asked to spend time preparing a rich and delicious meal, she’d rather eat plain steamed buns with pickled vegetables.

Xiaohuan valued Gu Qianyan’s ability to cook, do housework, and care for Xu Nuo, which was why she tried hard to persuade Xu Nuo to accept him. Yet Xu Nuo’s subtle concealment from her was palpable.

The young couple didn’t seem like they were quarreling or sulking. Watching Xu Nuo and Gu Qianyan interact so naturally, it was clear there was an emotional foundation—they must have known each other for some time.

So what was the real reason Xu Nuo didn’t want to be with Gu Qianyan?

Was it financial?

No, Xu Nuo wasn’t short on money—she just didn’t know how to spend it. She could easily support herself, and even if Gu Qianyan stayed home as a househusband, Xu Nuo’s finances were more than enough for a comfortable life for a family of four.

Moreover, Gu Qianyan didn’t seem poor. He spoke with poise, appeared well-read, held at least a bachelor’s degree, and his clothes were certainly not cheap street market wares.

Could it be that the couple just hadn’t adjusted to each other yet? When Gu Qianyan called himself her boyfriend, Xu Nuo didn’t object.

Maybe Xiaohuan was overthinking it? With a head full of questions, she left Xu Nuo’s home.

Only the two of them remained inside.

Xu Nuo nervously asked, “Um, how do you usually rest?”

Gu Qianyan replied, “I don’t need to rest.”

“Then, what do you usually do?” Xu Nuo felt uneasy everywhere, unable to figure out how to interact with this person who was clearly real.

Gu Qianyan said, “Stay with you. Usually, you’re playing games at this time, teasing me.”

Xu Nuo: “...” That’s true, but could you not say it with such ambiguous wording?

Playing games now was a good excuse not to face Gu Qianyan directly.

Xu Nuo opened her computer, untouched for almost half a month, and started her usual livestream.

But the moment she began, the audience voiced their dissatisfaction.

“Why aren’t you playing Gu Qianyan anymore?”

“Disappeared for half a month, and now you’re just ignoring our Gu Ge? That’s women for you—too much.”

Xu Nuo: “...”

“Trying something new,” she explained, “I can’t just play one character. How would I compete in tournaments then?”

Xu Nuo also participated in some gaming contests, sometimes forming temporary teams. Although mostly for fun, sticking to one character wasn’t ideal, as teamwork required versatility.

Still, this excuse didn’t hide Xu Nuo’s intentional neglect of Gu Qianyan.

Not only did she avoid playing him, she didn’t even bother with the usual segments where she customized his skins and equipment—previously, those parts often lasted almost as long as the matches themselves.

Many viewers came just for the miraculous sight of Xu Nuo’s Gu Gu.

Facing the barrage of comments, Xu Nuo feigned maturity, “Ahem, we’re adults now—we shouldn’t be playing childish dress-up games.”

Who would believe that?

Everyone could see the change in Xu Nuo’s attitude toward Gu Qianyan. Once cherished like a queen, he was suddenly banished to the cold palace, no longer showing up.

The audience protested, and the game’s official team even reached out—after all, Gu Qianyan was their top-streamed character, and Xu Nuo was a streamer with a million followers. Her recent streams featuring Gu Qianyan had driven traffic to the game and boosted skin sales—a win-win situation.

Could it be that Xu Nuo was unhappy being their game’s free advertisement? That was negotiable—they could sign another contract.

The officials politely expressed their willingness to collaborate further, even offering to create a custom skin for Xu Nuo with naming rights and significant input on the design.

It was a golden opportunity. Xiaohuan wanted to sign on Xu Nuo’s behalf, but Xu Nuo just wanted to refuse. Xiaohuan pleaded with her to hold off on deciding and take time to think.

“My sister,” Xiaohuan implored, “what’s wrong with you? Don’t you like Gu Qianyan?”

“Yes, I do,” Xu Nuo admitted plainly—she couldn’t lie about that.

“Then why are you acting so awkward?” Xiaohuan was truly baffled. Xu Nuo might be clumsy in love, but bringing those emotions into work was another matter.

“I don’t know,” Xu Nuo replied.

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Xiaohuan felt a pang in her chest. She calmed herself, silently reciting a few Buddhist mantras, then asked, “Can’t you tell me why?”

“No,” Xu Nuo said bluntly—her words as direct and candid as ever.

Xiaohuan: “Haven’t you thought about whether you want to be with him or just break up quickly?” Xu Nuo was never indecisive; she was always straightforward, decisive, and efficient.

“I don’t know,” Xu Nuo answered helplessly but honestly.

Xiaohuan clutched her chest and took a deep breath of fresh air. Fine, she had no right to meddle in her sister’s love life.

“Xu Nuo,” Gu Qianyan naturally noticed her unusual mood, “you’ve seemed down all this time. Why is that?”

Originally, he thought it was because of the airplane hijacking incident, but Xu Nuo hadn’t returned to her usual self even now.

“Gu Qianyan, I...” Xu Nuo closed her eyes, her tone resolute, “I have something to tell you tomorrow morning.”

“Okay,” Gu Qianyan said, “I also have something to tell you.”

Xu Nuo sensed trouble: “Let me speak first tomorrow.”

“I want to tell you now,” Gu Qianyan said seriously, “Let’s get married.”

Xu Nuo: “...” AAAAAHHHH!!!

Happiness and anticipation lit up Gu Qianyan’s face. “We’ve been together long enough.”

Xu Nuo thought: No, not at all.

“Xiaohuan told me love means giving someone security,” Gu Qianyan said earnestly. “We’ve been together this long; it’s time to marry.”

Xu Nuo smiled bitterly. Xiaohuan, please be quiet.

Gu Qianyan thought Xu Nuo’s stiffness came from being startled by the news, so he continued, “I thought you didn’t like me.”

Xu Nuo painfully covered her face—actually, he could keep thinking that.

“No matter if I was Gu Xingze or Lu Ciyuan,” Gu Qianyan suddenly said, “you left without a trace.”

“Do you remember Lu Ciyuan when we were in the Jade Book Illusion?”

“That was me, with Gu Xingze’s memories,” Gu Xingze’s face showed a hint of nostalgia. When he became Lu Ciyuan, he initially had no memories of Gu Xingze until awakened inside the Jade Book Illusion.

The awakened memories told him his purpose in this world was Xu Nuo. To avoid detection by the heavens, he continued interacting with Xu Nuo as Lu Ciyuan. Despite his caution, his cover was blown and he had to erase his memories within the illusion.

“You still have Gu Xingze’s memories,” Xu Nuo said, looking at Gu Qianyan’s youthful face with mixed feelings. Gu Ge was usually a dependable, mature man, but Gu Qianyan seemed a bit childish and simple.

“I am Gu Xingze,” Gu Xingze emphasized, “and also Lu Ciyuan.” Both men she’s been with are me, not just memories.

Xu Nuo took a deep breath. “Do you know why I came to your side?”

“I know,” Gu Qianyan, awakening self-awareness as Gu Xingze, had known since leaving that world.

“You came to love me.”

Xu Nuo was stunned, eyes wide as she looked at Gu Qianyan, who wore a serious and candid expression.

Thinking of Gu Xingze and Lu Ciyuan’s personas, Xu Nuo asked, “Because I treated you well—even if not from the heart but with a purpose—you like me?”

“Not just because you were kind,” Gu Qianyan gently embraced her. “Because you are Xu Nuo. You’re the person I like. You’re different from others.”

When he was just unconscious data, other players entered the game, but only Xu Nuo made his heart flutter enough to awaken self-awareness. Only Xu Nuo was the one he loved, willing to cross dimensions to pursue.

He had chosen and fallen for Xu Nuo—just that simple, with no other reasons.

“Will you marry me? I want to be with you forever.”

After Gu Qianyan’s confession, Xu Nuo remained dazed for a long time.

“Even if I don’t love you?”

Gu Qianyan’s expression flickered with disappointment, then firmed. “No, you love me very much.”

He cited examples of how Xu Nuo treated him in her real world: spending money on skins, giving him the best, letting him arrange her life...

Who wouldn’t call that love? Xiaohuan was convinced Xu Nuo loved him.

But what Xu Nuo didn’t say was that she thought she only liked a virtual game character, that the real-life Gu Qianyan was just a hallucination. Why argue with a figment of her imagination? Of course, she indulged him: if he wanted to sleep at eight, she bargained it up to ten; if he insisted on taking bitter medicine, she secretly spat it out.

That was, assuming he really was her hallucination.

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What a huge misunderstanding!

If Gu Qianyan knew she regarded him as a hallucination, as not real, how would he feel?

Would he still wear such a smile?

Such carefree, pure joy wasn’t often seen in Gu Qianyan—or Gu Xingze/Lu Ciyuan.

“Xu Nuo, can you say yes to me?” After waiting so long, Gu Qianyan’s heart wavered—was he too impatient?

“Maybe we should keep dating?” he suggested cautiously.

“Tell me where I fall short, I’ll change.”

“I don’t have money now, but I’ll work hard to earn.”

Within a minute, Gu Qianyan had exhausted every possible argument a man could muster when confessing to a woman.

Yet Xu Nuo still hadn’t agreed.

Finally, she said weakly, “Let me think about it.”

A game character coming into the real world to confess and take responsibility—such a bizarre thing was probably unprecedented. Xu Nuo couldn’t even find advice online.

Helpless, she went to an anonymous relationship forum for help, posting a modified version of her story.

“I checked, this isn’t the fiction section.”

“Downstairs.”

“Is the author next door looking for inspiration?”

“Too long, didn’t finish. Basically, break up.”

Replies came quickly but none were helpful. No one doubted her story’s authenticity—they all assumed it was fabricated.

“Write a cheap fanfic.”

“Did the original poster rip off a dream girl story?”

“Which character’s dream girl? I want to read it.”

Some netizens tried to dig deeper.

“It’s a game character. Which popular ones are trending?”

“Name them.”

“Gu Qianyan, next?”

“Gu Yuntian, next.”

The absurd original post sparked curiosity, but the poster never replied after posting.

“Who is it?”

“OP is cautious, key details are vague. Clearly well-prepared, very thorough.”

“Still not perfect—logic’s off. As a dream girl story, the highlight should be the bittersweet happiness of the confession, with a final line: ‘Thanks everyone, we’re together now.’ I’d rate this seven out of ten.”

“Great analysis, sister writer.”

“Guys, what if this is real?”

“Impossible. If it were, the heroine would love him but be uncertain, which is unrealistic. Such contradictions exist only in fictional plots.”

Xu Nuo silently scrolled through comments and paused at that one, feeling a sudden clarity.

That reply successfully shifted the discussion, with netizens seriously debating whether the heroine truly loved him.

Though many fictional villains and geniuses have more popularity than protagonists, in reality, normal people avoid dangerous types.

Though not dangerous, people fear the unknown most. Given such a magical appearance, Xu Nuo’s calmness was unnatural.

Who, after hallucinating and hearing voices, wouldn’t rush to the hospital, panic, or at least be afraid? Who would calmly interact with their hallucination, eat the food they cooked, and treat them like a housekeeper?

Unfortunately, Xu Nuo was indeed not a normal person.