LSDWTWHA chapter 61

Chapter 60

After leaving the【White Scale Guild】, Su Su noticed that a name that had been absent for several days on his friend list lit up.

【Rebellious Tide & Lost Soul】, after disappearing for many days, finally came online.

Su Su immediately contacted the other party and they arranged to meet at a beverage shop in a supply point.

“Where have you been all this time?” Su Su held a cup of strawberry milkshake, took a small sip, and grinned, showing a mouthful of shark teeth. “I haven’t had the chance to thank you; this competition was all thanks to the information you gave me.”

Qi Hanyi smiled gently, “I only played this game on a whim. We share similar personalities, and it’s convenient to help you. I’m very happy to see you excel in your performance.”

As Su Su spoke, he generously transferred a portion of his points over. “You deserve part of the prize money; I owe you half.”

However, Qi Hanyi did not accept it. “No need, I’ll be busy with other matters in the coming days, and I might not play the game much anymore. These points won’t be of much use.”

Hearing that his good friend might not come to the game again, Su Su’s smile faded. “Then does that mean we won’t be able to see each other anymore?”

“…Probably,” Qi Hanyi didn’t expect Su Su to feel so attached to a virtual identity. He was at a loss for how to comfort him.

This identity was originally created to connect with Su Su, but now that Su Su was finding his footing in the competition, he planned to quietly erase the presence of this account. Plus, his recent busy schedule with selecting mermaids for pilot training meant he would be online even less.

“What am I supposed to do when I miss you?” Su Su asked without thinking, and then he paused for a moment after saying it.

He had never been the clingy type, easily making friends and rarely seeing them, like Yan Bai; he wouldn’t feel any longing. He used to think of【Rebellious Tide & Lost Soul】as merely a well-connected online friend, but hearing that the other party wouldn’t be online in the future made him realize he was indeed reluctant to let go. He even felt like the game itself lost a lot of its charm.

Looking back, the happiest moments he had while playing games were spent with that person.

Su Su pondered if it was because he cared too much about someone special that he would feel such an inexplicable sorrow. Although this person wasn’t chatty, their personality resonated with him. He found several similarities between Qi Hanyi and himself, including their speaking tone and the way they approached problems. The only differences were that Qi Hanyi wasn’t adept at piloting spaceships and had a relatively gentler character.

Suddenly, he felt a warm touch on his head. Su Su looked up and found the other party gently patting his head through a shark costume.

That sensation was familiar; it immediately reminded Su Su of Qi Hanyi.

Could someone have a head-patting touch so similar? Su Su thought fleetingly, and a bold speculation emerged: Could it be possible that this account belonged to Qi Hanyi?

Initially, Su Su thought this was merely an absurd association arising from his reluctance for the other party to leave. After all, how could Qi Hanyi not know how to pilot a spaceship? The account name didn’t seem to fit Qi Hanyi’s style either.

However, upon deeper reflection, he found more and more doubts. The times the other party appeared matched perfectly with the signing-up period for the preliminary competition. They always logged in during the evening, which perfectly aligned with the time Qi Hanyi was free every day. Their apparent purpose for logging in seemed solely to accompany him in the game. Although claiming not to be able to pilot a spaceship, he always seemed to understand what Su Su intended to do while piloting and would occasionally provide incredibly accurate driving advice.

It seemed he had never asked why Su Su didn’t look the information up online, as if he knew Su Su’s mermaid identity would preclude him from accessing it. After Su Su entered the competition, everyone in the game was speculating about his background, but the other party appeared completely disinterested.

The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became. His heart raced uncontrollably. Did Qi Hanyi really hide his identity to join the game just to keep him company? When did he realize that【White Scale Shark Shark】 was him? Was it the time he had confided about playing the game?

Yes, if he could connect through Yan Bai, it wouldn’t be difficult to guess Su Su’s identity by contacting his player account from Yan Bai’s guild.

No wonder in real life, Qi Hanyi never asked about his game account and likewise didn’t inquire about his real identity in the game. With that thought, everything began to align.

In his heart, Su Su calculated everything, and he had a seventy percent certainty about this speculation. He decided to test the other party and deliberately said, “It’s rare for me to make a friend; I wouldn’t want to lose contact like this. How about we meet in person somewhere and get to know each other offline?”

Qi Hanyi hadn’t expected Su Su to make such a request. “I fear it’s too inconvenient since we live far apart.”

Su Su mentally noted his refusal; his suspicions had risen to ninety percent. He said, “Wait for me a moment, I have something urgent.” He then directly exited the nutrient pod and logged out.

He hadn’t completely transformed into a shark yet; some scales had merely emerged.

Su Su quickly wiped his body dry, not bothering to tidy up. He simply put on some clothes and hurried to the study.

Upon entering, Qi Hanyi was sitting at the desk, holding a water cup and operating his terminal, looking like he was working. He showed a bit of surprise when he saw Su Su.

“Rebellious Tide & Lost Soul?” Su Su blurted out.

“Cough!” Qi Hanyi choked on a mouthful of water. Some names are fine to see online, but actually saying them out loud is quite embarrassing.

“It is you, isn’t it! I figured it out; you can’t fool me anymore,” Su Su leaned over the table, his gaze locked onto Qi Hanyi.

“The name was randomly generated by the system,” Qi Hanyi said, justifying his aesthetic sense even though it wasn’t necessary. It also served as a veiled admission of Su Su’s guess.

“It really is you. Living far? Too inconvenient? With those thick brows and big eyes of yours, how did you get so good at deceiving people?” Su Su grinned, “I was still thinking about surprising you when the finals ended, but it turns out you already knew.”

Though he complained, the corners of his mouth were nearly touching his ears.

Qi Hanyi didn’t quite understand Su Su’s silly grin. After guessing the other party’s identity, he didn’t tell Su Su because he was afraid it would upset him.

“What are you laughing about?”

Su Su himself didn’t know why he was so happy; he simply was.

“So the person who played with me for a month was actually you! No wonder I felt such a connection,” Su Su rambled on, “I feel so happy knowing that the person I enjoyed the most online is actually the one I’m closest to in reality. Now you can’t say anything about being far apart or how it’s inconvenient to meet, right?”

Finding someone relatable with him? This was the first time Qi Hanyi had heard someone say something like that. Throughout his life, people only described him as cold and difficult to approach. When he started working, subordinates referred to him as being too stern. How could someone think they were compatible with him?

Even when Su Su previously expressed his feelings, Qi Hanyi thought it was merely admiration due to his looks and status; he assumed Su Su confused that admiration with genuine liking because he was so inexperienced in matters of the heart.

Resting his elbow on the table, Su Su propped his face up with one hand. “Come clean, why did you create this account? Did you discover my extraordinary potential as a stellar pilot? You didn’t know it was me back then, right?”

Qi Hanyi tilted his head to the side. “If I knew, there would be no need for all this trouble.”

“Is there!” Su Su insisted. “Otherwise, why didn’t you disclose your identity once you found out it was me and continued playing with me for half a month?”

Why? It was naturally because in reality, they couldn’t interact freely, so he donned a virtual identity and secretly stole moments together.

That day, Qi Hanyi didn’t answer Su Su’s question. Instead, he used the excuse of Su Su’s side effects wearing off to distance himself again. He began getting busier with training mermaids; sometimes he had to stay late at the military headquarters and would directly sleep there. Su Su was imprisoned in the fish tank and couldn’t find Qi Hanyi, while the game lost its prior companionship. He felt lonely and his spirit sank.

He had tried to make other friends, but since his fame grew, his mailbox was flooded with friend requests in the game.

However, upon careful conversation, they were either gossips inquiring about his identity, streamers attempting to ride his coattails, or players wanting to gain skills by leaning on him.

Some of them had interesting personalities and seemed somewhat compatible with Su Su, but it felt different when compared to being with Qi Hanyi. Su Su didn’t worry when he couldn’t see them, nor did he feel gloomy due to their distance.

Bad moods were like a cold. Su Su felt as if he had fallen ill. Nothing tasted good, his spirit was not as high as usual, and even when piloting a spaceship, he would drift off.

“Why do I feel unhappy because I can’t see someone and want to be with them all the time?” Su Su asked many people in the game, and their answers were the same:

“Do you even need to ask? You must like him.”

“Tell me, which girl do you fancy? I can give you tips… If it’s a guy, that works too; it’s the current era, no discrimination against homosexuality.”

“Is it unrequited love? Have you confessed?”

“If you like him, go for it boldly.”

After logging out of the game, Su Su was still a bit dazed, looking through the glass wall of the fish tank at the person sleeping not far away.

He undoubtedly liked Qi Hanyi, liked his appearance, admired his abilities, and appreciated his work style.

But these weren’t the kind of “like” that those people referred to. The “like” they spoke of involved desire, the primal mating urge between a female shark and a male shark for reproduction.

He wished to be close to Qi Hanyi, liked to stick to him, enjoyed his scent, voice, warmth, and the sensation of their lips touching.

But more than that…

Su Su recalled the Qi family’s old residence, Qi Hanyi’s uncontrollable kiss, that feeling that was both pleasurable and terrifying. He remembered Qi Hanyi fiercely asking him if he wanted to continue.

He recalled how the next day Qi Hanyi explained to him somewhat helplessly, “You don’t understand human emotions.”

In the late-night fish pond, a shark rolled back and forth in the water, restlessly grinding its teeth, murmuring indignantly, “Who says I don’t understand?”