Chapter 49 – “Could You Stay Tonight?”

Li Huan‑huan bursts into apartment 150, breathless—only to find Qin Shi calmly practicing APM in his gaming room.

“Weren’t you yelling ‘Save me!’?” she pants, holding up the text.

“I’m starving, Jie. I crave that pickle‑duck soup you ordered once,” he says, silk pajama collar sliding off one pale shoulder.

She averts her eyes. “No pickles for fractures—too much sodium.”

“But I miss that taste.” He gazes at her like she’s the soup itself.

“Fine—plain vermicelli duck soup, no pickles. I’ll send you the link,” she sighs.

He orders two portions. “It’s only four‑ish; don’t claim you’ve had dinner already,” he adds—exposing her earlier white lie.

An hour later she returns with the delivery and eats with him. The meal passes peacefully; she takes out the trash, tends her cat, prepares for bed—

Buzz.

Star: “Jie, save me!”

She ignores it. Another ping:

Star: “I’m dying.”

Eye‑roll.

0.0: “What now, ancestor?”
Star (deleted): “Miss you.”
Star: “…slipped. Can you come over?”

0.0: “I’m already in bed.”

Silence. Anxiety gnaws; what if he really needs help? She throws on a jacket, slips across the hall, unlocks 150.

The apartment is dark and cold. In the bedroom moonlight outlines a figure on the window seat. She flips the switch—Qin Shi sits hunched, eyes dull.

“I thought something was wrong,” she murmurs.

No answer. Then a low request:
“Li Huan‑huan… could you stay tonight?”

Her face flames—then morphs to outrage. “Are you out of your mind?”

He rubs his brow. “Not that. Just… don’t leave. I’ve never slept alone before—parents, Barbecue, teammates… Now it’s empty and it’s—hard.”

The fierce esports star looks small, cast weighing his leg. Pity softens her.

“Can’t you, um, get used to it?” she tries.

“Eventually. But that takes time.” His eyes plead. “Jie?”

She remembers the promise to both mothers, exhales. “All right. Where do I sleep?”

With victory muted behind his tired smile, the long night—for both of them—begins.