Chapter 5 — My In-Game Husband is a CEO

An image of grilled squid resting on an iron skillet materialized on the screen, accompanied by a caption typed in a neat, familiar font: This place added plenty of cilantro, no scallions, absolutely perfection. I quietly set my phone down on the polished wooden table. What business did this man have browsing through my private moments?

Fifteen

The meal concluded, and he drove me back to my residence. The sleek vehicle came to a smooth halt beneath the towering shadow of my apartment complex. Just as my hand hovered over the door handle, eager to step out into the cool night air, his deep voice broke the stillness:

Are you still playing tomorrow?

I paused, blinking in genuine astonishment.

Didn't you say you rarely play?

He remained silent for a single, heavy second.

I play often now.

I turned my head to study his profile cast against the dim illumination of the dashboard. The interior lighting was too subdued to decipher the subtle nuances of his expression clearly.

Director Tran, I began, carefully weighing each word to ensure the proper professional distance, are you playing with me because of that matching couple avatar?

He offered no immediate response.

After all, that was originally your younger sister's account. Since she abandoned it, it is only natural that you would log in to see...

It is not.

I froze completely.

What?

He slowly turned his head to look directly at me. His eyes were intensely dark, concealing emotions that danced just beneath the surface, entirely beyond my comprehension.

It is not because of the avatar, he said.

Then why?

Silence stretched between us, lingering for so long that I began to suspect he would offer no further explanation at all. Then, softly, he spoke:

I will tell you next time.

Always next time. A sudden, irrational urge to strike something—or someone—flared within me. Yet, with calm efficiency, he had already reached over to unlock the door for me.

Sleep well, he murmured.

Standing alone on the cold pavement outside, I watched through the tinted glass as the window slowly glided upward. The dark luxury sedan melted seamlessly into the sprawling night. I stood rooted to the spot, my thoughts colliding in a chaotic storm. What on earth was going on inside this man's mind?

Sixteen

At precisely eleven o'clock that night, I booted up the game. He was already online. A shimmering invitation popped up on the interface, and I pressed accept without hesitation. His familiar, resonant voice flowed straight through my headset:

You are here.

Mm-hmm.

The match commenced. He locked in Jing, while I chose to supplement our lineup with Dao. As the battle raged on, a sudden recollection pierced through my concentration.

Director Tran.

The line remained silent for a heartbeat.

When we are gaming, do not call me Director Tran.

Then what should I call you?

Again, a lingering pause. Then came his reply:

Whatever you wish.

I recalled that he had used those exact words once before, back when we first began playing together.

Then shall I call you Chen?

Mm.

Chen, allow me to ask you a question.

Speak.

Have we ever met before? Long ago, I mean.

The other end went completely still. I stared intently at the glowing screen, waiting anxiously for his verdict. Truthfully, the question had lingered in my mind for several days now. Ever since our unexpected encounter in the conference room that afternoon, I had sensed something peculiar in the way he looked at me. It was not the casual glance of a superior recognizing a familiar subordinate; rather, it carried the distinct weight of someone who knew me intimately. My instincts rarely proved wrong.

Several slow seconds ticked away before he finally answered:

We have.

My fingers stiffened over the controls.

When?

Last summer, he stated calmly. Your company hosted its annual year-end banquet at the XX Hotel. You became thoroughly intoxicated and sat alone out in the corridor.

I caught my breath. Last summer, the year-end banquet, the XX Hotel... The memories flooded back in a sudden wave. I had indeed drunk far too much that evening, stepped out for a breath of fresh air, and eventually slumped onto a bench in the hallway. But wait—

How do you know that?

I was there as well, he explained. I happened to be attending a business meeting that day and walked past that very corridor.

My mind raced at lightning speed. So the young master of the parent corporation had strolled down a hotel hallway, spotted a completely sloshed female employee slumped against the wall, and then what? Did he simply burn the image into his memory ever since?

What happened next? I pressed.

After that, you asked me if I had any strawberry-flavored Want Want QQ gummy candies.

I stared at the screen in utter speechlessness. I did not remember that part; please, do not continue!

I did not have any strawberry-flavored Want Want QQ gummy candies.

I remained frozen, realizing that no normal person walked around carrying such specific childhood snacks in their pockets anyway.

You sat there for a very long time, he added, pausing briefly. I simply stood nearby and watched over you.

Silence enveloped me.

Why?

Two seconds of quiet.

I was afraid something might happen to you.

My grip on the phone tightened until my knuckles turned white. Afraid something might happen to me. Was that the sole reason he stood guard by my side?

How long did you stand there?

Twenty minutes.

I stared blankly at the colorful display, completely at a loss for words. Twenty minutes. A total stranger, driven purely by concern for my safety, had stood watch for a third of an hour. And he had remembered it all the way until now?

Chen, I murmured.

Hm?

Are you always this kind to everyone you meet?

A single beat of silence passed.

No, he replied.

Seventeen

After logging off for the night, I lay flat on my back in the darkness, staring up at the blank ceiling. My mind was an absolute labyrinth of tangled thoughts. So he had laid eyes on me as far back as last summer? Did that mean my purchase of this gaming account and subsequent encounter with him was not pure coincidence after all? No, that could not be right. He had no way of knowing I would buy this specific account; he only discovered the truth when his sister decided to sell it. The more I analyzed the situation, the more convoluted it became, so I decisively abandoned the mental exercise.

The following morning at the office, I arrived carrying heavy, dark circles under my eyes. When concerned colleagues inquired about my appearance, I muttered something about staying up late playing video games.

During the lunch break, my phone chimed softly with an incoming message.

[Chen]: Are you playing tonight?

I stared down at the glowing screen, and a sudden, startling realization bloomed in my mind. Did this man wait online for me every single day without fail?

I typed back: Playing.

His response arrived instantaneously: Good.

Before I could stop myself, I added a follow-up question: Do you not have to go to work during the day?

He replied: I do.

Me: Then how is it that you reply so impossibly fast?