Chapter 86: Did I Hit a Nerve?

The person before her wore a white undergarment, with bandages faintly visible underneath.

His long hair was casually styled high, though slightly disheveled.

Oddly, this messiness made him even more attractive.

One had to admit, the 3D character was indeed good-looking.

Su Jinshi was startled when someone suddenly patted her shoulder, approaching silently from behind.

She instinctively jumped, turning while taking two steps back.

“Mo Jizong?” Su Jinshi pressed her lips together. “Why did you sneak up on me like that?”

Su Jinshi noticed Mo Jizong’s gaze fall on her phone. Frowning, she lowered her hand holding the phone, avoiding his line of sight.

Mo Jizong had just been peeking at her phone screen from behind.

This behavior genuinely displeased Su Jinshi, prompting her to say, “Why were you silently looking at my phone from behind? That’s quite rude.”

“Sorry, sorry.” Mo Jizong’s playful demeanor showed no hint of genuine apology. “I saw you standing by the roadside and figured your ride wouldn’t arrive anytime soon, so I thought I’d ask if you needed a lift.”

“You still shouldn’t have stood behind me, looking at my phone,” Su Jinshi frowned. “Normally, you should greet someone and approach from the front, right?”

“Sorry, I didn’t think it would upset you this much,” Mo Jizong shrugged nonchalantly.

Su Jinshi pressed her lips together; it seemed like he thought she was overreacting.

“Anyone in this situation would likely react the same way,” Su Jinshi said coldly.

“Jinshi, I’ve already apologized,” Mo Jizong replied, his expression suggesting he was baffled by her continued frustration.

Su Jinshi knew reasoning with him was futile. He was self-righteous and oblivious to how rude his behavior had been.

“My ride will be here soon,” Su Jinshi stated frostily.

Mo Jizong dismissed her words, assuming she was just being petulant.

In the past, Su Jinshi had been too gentle and accommodating.

Now, however, she seemed much more vibrant with this attitude.

But a little attitude was fine; knowing when to stop was important. If she pushed it too far, it could become problematic.

Moreover, he was still Su Jinshi’s client. For her work to get approved, she needed to go through him; she should adjust her attitude accordingly.

Emboldened by this, Mo Jizong continued without restraint, “Are you playing a game? What game is it? The male characters look quite handsome.”

Mo Jizong had some knowledge of current trends.

Especially since their department had conducted market research on the female audience for short dramas.

He also had some understanding of otome games.

At that moment, Mo Jizong confidently said, “You’re not playing one of those popular otome games, are you?”

“It’s not a game,” Su Jinshi replied, her patience wearing thin.

While she usually referred to it as a game, it was more for convenience. She couldn’t think of a better term at the moment. But in her heart, she had long stopped thinking of it as just a game.

She believed that where Shen Shilang existed was another real world—a parallel universe.

Because apart from being unable to find any information about this game online, there wasn’t any game that could provide such real-time interactive feedback.

It wasn’t something pre-programmed systems could produce.

Every character in the Great Xi world—from the powerful nobles to the beggars on the street—reacted in ways that weren’t dictated by rigid programming.

Everyone inside had flesh and blood; their responses were genuine and human-like,

something beyond what programming could achieve.

Unexpectedly, Mo Jizong wore a knowing smile and said, “I get it. Our department once researched the female market. You otome game players, to enhance immersion, firmly believe the 2D men in the games are real—they’re your actual boyfriends. They just exist in different dimensions, like in a parallel world. They can’t break through the dimensional wall to meet you, but they’re loving you in another dimension. Isn’t that right?”

Mo Jizong’s voice traveled through Su Jingshi’s headphones to Shen Shilang’s side.

Although his voice wasn’t loud, it was clear enough for Shen Shilang to hear everything.

Shen Shilang frowned. Who was this man?

Why was he speaking so rudely to Su Jinshi with such an arrogant attitude?

And what were otome games and two-dimensional characters?

These terms were unfamiliar since Su Jinshi hadn’t explained them to him yet; he didn’t understand them at all.

A heavy feeling settled in Shen Shilang’s heart, as though the gap between him and Su Jinshi was growing even wider.

There were still too many things about her world that he didn’t know.

From Su Jinshi’s tone, it was obvious she was quite irritated with him.

Yet when Su Jinshi faced trouble and someone harassed her, he felt helpless—he could only worry anxiously.

Su Jinshi found Mo Jizong’s self-righteousness utterly disgusting and coldly replied, “Think whatever you want.”

She switched to the ride-hailing app to check where her car was located, only to find it still halfway down a congested road.

Su Jinshi impatiently pressed her lips together.

Traffic in Beijing really was terrible. With their company situated near the Third Ring Road—considered very central—it made congestion especially severe.

Suddenly recalling something, Mo Jizong spoke again: “Jinshi, you mentioned having a boyfriend before. You’re not like those otome players who think the men in games are their boyfriends too, are you?”

“Your so-called boyfriend…” Mo Jizong glanced unabashedly at Su Jinshi’s lowered phone. “He’s not from this game, is he?”

The more Mo Jizong thought about it, the more convinced he became.

He exclaimed in realization: “No wonder when I asked you to bring your boyfriend out before New Year, you refused. You simply couldn’t bring him out at all!”

“Mo Jizong,” Su Jinshi said, finally reaching her limit, “Has anyone ever told you how conceited you are?”

Mo Jizong was momentarily stunned, not expecting Su Jinshi to be so blunt, giving him no face at all.

“Jinshi, that’s a bit excessive,” Mo Jizong lowered his eyes but smiled after a few seconds. “I know—you feel embarrassed because I hit the nail on the head, right?”

“We’re classmates; we’ve known each other for years. Don’t worry, I won’t laugh at you.” Mo Jizong even winked, thinking he looked charming. “This matter will remain between us; I’ll keep your secret.”

“I just thought you were more mature. In our past interactions, you’ve always been gentle and composed. I never expected you to have such an unrealistic, girlish side,” Mo Jizong continued talking, completely oblivious to Su Jinshi’s increasingly dark expression.

…