Chapter 1 — My In-Game Husband is a CEO

After spending three thousand yuan to purchase a gaming account, I discovered that the previous owner already shared a couple badge with another player. I messaged the seller, asking if her husband no longer wanted the account. The seller replied casually that she was dating seven or eight people at once and could hardly keep track, telling me to just keep him. Right as I was contemplating dissolving the relationship status, the mysterious partner sent me a ranked match invitation. After he carried the game with a staggering thirteen-to-zero score and boosted me all the way to the Grandmaster tier in a single night, I put on my sweetest, most seductive voice and cooed:

"You are so amazing, hubs. Give your wife a kiss."

A low, slightly husky male voice drifted through my headset:

"A kiss for my wife, too."

I had shelled out three thousand yuan for the gaming account simply intending to score a massive bargain. The seller had sent over a flurry of screenshots: over seven hundred skins, countless rare and limited-edition Honor Collector items, and even a few leftover Honor Crystals.

"Is it really this cheap?" I asked, feeling rather suspicious.

"I am quitting the game, just selling it off casually."

I immediately placed the order. Once the payment went through, I logged into the account to take inventory of my new digital assets. The number of skins matched, the Honor Crystals matched, and after a thorough inspection of the storage, the relationship tab seemed fine at first glance. Wait. I reopened the in-game friends list, my pupils dilating in shock. Pinned right at the top of the intimate relationships list, a glaring couple badge hung prominently. I tapped to inspect it: level fifteen. Huh? A level fifteen couple badge? I clicked on that profile picture; the profile was entirely blank, the match history was hidden, and it looked very much like a dormant account. I messaged the seller.

"Hey, does your husband not need this anymore?"

The person replied almost instantly: "Who?" I took a screenshot and sent it over. She replied: "Ah, this guy? Who knows where we even linked up from, I haven't logged in for so long I completely forgot." I breathed a sigh of relief: "Should I just dissolve it then?"

"Dissolve it. I haven't been online in years, so we might as well consider it broken up."

That sounded reasonable enough. Just as I was about to open the relationship menu, she sent another message:

"Right, since this account is sold to you, I won't be logging in anymore. Handle it however you like."

"Got it."

"My phone is about to die, leave a message if you need anything else."

With that, her profile avatar went dark. I opened the relationship dissolution page, and just as I was about to hit confirm, a notification suddenly popped up at the bottom of the screen. Chen invited you to join a 5v5 ranked match in the Honor Canyon. I froze. I tapped on the ID; this was precisely the person sharing the couple badge with me. The avatar was gray, the profile was empty, the match history was hidden, and the displayed rank was Diamond IV. Diamond IV? I checked the time: eleven o'clock at night, with only three days left until the end of the season. Then I looked at my own current rank: Star III, and I desperately wanted to climb to Grandmaster to secure the season badge. Then I looked at the invitation again. Oh well, I might as well go in and see what happens.

At the loading screen, I glanced at his most-played heroes: Hou Yi, Arthur, Daji. The rookie starter trinity. I fell silent. A three-thousand-yuan account paired with a Diamond IV couple partner, what kind of mortal suffering was this? The match began. He locked in Hou Yi. I chose the jungle role to cover the position. Three minutes in, he was zero-and-three. Five minutes in, he was zero-and-five. I watched him swagger across the river for the sixth time, only to be ambushed and instantly obliterated by the enemy jungler from a bush, and silently began to type. Eating Two Bowls of Rice – Li Bai: Hou Yi, stop leaving the lane. He didn't reply. At the sixth minute, he crossed the river again and got ambushed once more. Zero-and-seven. I took a deep breath. Just as I was about to turn on my microphone to unleash a torrent of abuse, a voice suddenly echoed through my headset.

"Sorry."

It was very deep and slightly husky, as if he had just woken up. The voice itself was surprisingly pleasant. My hand, hovering over the keyboard, froze in place.

"Haven't played in a while, feeling a bit rusty."

I remained silent. Did he call this a bit rusty? This was outright feeding. But I didn't say anything; I truly was a good person. I used the speech-to-text function. Eating Two Bowls of Rice – Li Bai: Follow me. This time he complied, trailing behind me like a decorative ornament. Ten minutes later, I secured a dragon, turned around, and realized Hou Yi had wandered off who-knows-where. A notification flashed at the top of the screen: Hou Yi has been slain. Zero-and-eight. I closed my eyes. Fifteen minutes later, the main crystal exploded. I stared at the defeat screen, quietly opened the intimate relationship page, and prepared to sever ties. Whoever wanted this husband could have him; I certainly didn't. Just at that moment, a notification popped up. Chen invited you to join a 5v5 ranked match in the Honor Canyon. Accompanied by a private message: Chen: Sorry, let's try one more match, I won't throw this time. I stared at those words for three whole seconds. Sigh, could I ever stand firm and refuse just once? Why was it that as soon as someone apologized, I immediately compromised? Oh well, I had nothing better to do tonight anyway. There were still three days left; at worst, tomorrow and the next day I would just grind harder. I tapped accept.

This time he instantly selected the jungle role. I picked a support hero, wanting to see just how well he could actually play. On the loading screen, his hero was Jing. I blinked in surprise. Jing? A rookie starter player actually picking Jing? The match started, and right from the get-go, he charged straight into the enemy jungle. Two minutes in, a double kill. Four minutes in, a quadruple kill. Six minutes in, the enemy jungler went AFK. For the entire match, I simply followed behind him without doing much of anything, yet I effortlessly scooped up seven or eight assists. He started tower-diving for kills, fighting three people at once, and still walking away unscathed after finishing them off. I watched his mechanics: item swapping, bush camping, vision locking—it was so proficient that he looked nothing like a Diamond player. Twelve minutes in, the opponents surrendered. Final score: thirteen-zero-five. MVP, a supreme jungling god. On the settlement screen, his rating was a staggering sixteen-point-zero. I stared intently at that number sixteen-point-zero, with only one thought crossing my mind: Was this guy match-fixing in the first game? My hand trembling slightly, I pressed to exit the room. Luckily, he sent another invitation. This time, I pressed accept immediately.

In a single night, we surged from Star III all the way to the Grandmaster promotion match. He secured MVP in every single match, while I was solely responsible for cheering him on. By the fifth match, he finally turned on his microphone.

"Can you turn your mic on?"

Just four words, and my ears suddenly felt an itchy sensation. His voice was extremely deep and steady, resembling a late-night radio broadcast that made people want to listen forever. I cleared my throat and turned on my mic.

"Yes, yes, yes, hubs."

He fell silent for a single second. It was only then I realized I hadn't adjusted my tone in time, and I hurriedly cleared my throat again, desperately trying to squeeze out a coquettish voice:

"Uhm, hubs is just so amazing~"

The other side fell silent for another two seconds.

"Do you usually talk like that?"

I paused: "?"

"Never mind," he said. "Let's keep going."

For the sixth match, he locked in Luna. In the first two minutes, he tower-dived to kill the enemy mid-laner, and then casually came back to take my blue buff. I watched helplessly as my energy bar emptied completely, not daring to utter a single word. In the seventh match, he selected Lan. The enemy jungler was a provincial-ranked Tiger. Early in the game, he went to counter-jungle and got ambushed, and I thought for sure this match was about to tank, but instead, he fought two against one, killed them both, and escaped with a single drop of health while conveniently clearing my minion wave along the way. Finally, I couldn't hold it in any longer.

"Hey, are you deliberately trying to starve me of economy?"

He fell silent for a second.

"Didn't notice."

"Could you pay a little attention then?"

"Alright."

In the very next wave, he wiped out the entire enemy jungle, left our entire jungle intact for me, and conveniently handed me the kill on the enemy jungler. I watched my economic net worth instantly skyrocket to first place in the entire match, feeling profoundly conflicted. Sigh. Actually, as long as we were winning, I suppose I didn't strictly need the farm.

By the tenth match, I had completely reverted from my cutesy voice back to my normal tone. Mainly because I truly couldn't keep up the act anymore. Putting on a baby voice was too exhausting; I might as well just relax.

"Hey, is there vision in the enemy red buff area?"

"No."

"Should I head over then?"

"Don't go."

My hand was already hovering over the dash button. The very next second, three people burst out from the enemy bush. My screen turned pitch black. He fell silent for two seconds.

"Listen to me next time."

I muttered: "...Okay." After respawning, I obediently followed behind him. He proceeded to clear another wave of my minions. I took a deep breath: "Hey, did you not pay attention again this time?" This time he was silent for a bit longer.

"I paid attention this time."

I asked: "?"

"Did it on purpose."

I exclaimed: "???"

"If your economy gets too high, you start playing recklessly."

I stared at the screen, momentarily at a loss for words. How could someone be so annoying when they spoke? But since he was carrying the team, I couldn't afford to get angry. I switched back to my cutesy voice:

"Understood, big brother~"

The other side fell silent for a second. Then he let out a soft chuckle. I thought: ...Was he laughing at me?

Our team composition countered us during the Grandmaster promotion match. He picked Pei Coinhu, dictating the pace of the entire match and pushing all the way to the enemy base within ten minutes. In the final team fight, I messed up my mechanics and got caught by the enemy's engaged skill. The exact moment my screen turned black and white, I thought for sure we had lost. Instead, he flanked from the side, took on three people alone, killed two of them, and used his remaining sliver of health to pull off a flashy kill on the third. Then, escorting the minion wave, he single-handedly destroyed the main crystal. Victory. I stared at the Grandmaster badge flashing on the screen, my heart rate still failing to return to normal. His voice came through the headset:

"We've reached Grandmaster."

I replied: "Yeah!"

"Still playing?"

I checked the time: three in the morning. I had to go to work tomorrow.

"No more, thanks for carrying me."

"Alright."

I figured he would log off right then, but unexpectedly, he spoke up:

"Did you buy that account?"

I blinked in surprise.

"...How did you know?"

"Just a guess."

I remained silent for a few seconds.

"Why didn't you ask where the original account owner went?"

"None of my business."

I thought: ...That logic was airtight. Just as I was about to say my goodbyes, he asked:

"That couple badge, do you want to dissolve it?"

It was only then that I remembered that whole situation.

"Yes, yes, I'll cancel it right now."

"No need."

"Huh?"

"Just leave it there," he said. "It's convenient for inviting each other to ranked matches."

I froze.

"But..."

"It won't affect you," he paused. "I don't play that often anyway."

I thought about it for a moment, and it didn't seem to pose any real problem. After all, he was just my human booster tool, and I wasn't actually dating him; if he wanted to keep it, we could keep it.

"Alright then, thanks a lot."

"Yeah."

He logged out of the game. I stared at his avatar, which had now turned gray, for a few seconds. Then I opened his profile page. It was still entirely blank, his match history remained hidden, and the intimate relationship tab featured only me. What on earth was his relationship with the previous seller? How could he have such a high tolerance for the account owner suddenly changing? I recalled what the seller had said: "Who knows where we even linked up from," "I haven't logged in for so long I completely forgot." Cyber romance? I pondered over it for a long time, and ultimately decided to ask the seller one more time. Opening the chat window, I discovered that her last message remained: "My phone is about to die, leave a message if you need anything else." I sent a single line: "Is the person named Chen someone you know?" There was still no response. I scrolled back through the chat history, discovering that her last active time was yesterday afternoon. She hadn't logged in since.