Chapter 70: The Irritable Woman

There is a vast lexicon in gaming, and often, terms that seem perfectly ordinary to outsiders carry connotations worlds apart from their literal meanings.

"Not materialistic": At first glance, this sounds like a great trait—after all, what man isn’t wary of finding a girlfriend driven by material desires? Yet, according to some statistics, out of two hundred girls who claim not to be materialistic, perhaps only twenty truly live up to it. The rest, to varying degrees, will still ask their in-game husband to buy them this piece of equipment, or that pet.

Composite rating: Four black stars.
Overall reversal probability: 90%.

"Not a flirt": This means seeking stability and exclusivity. Though it's just a game, players often invest a great deal of emotion as well as money. Here you can experience the passion and excitement rarely found in real life. As the saying goes, heroes are always matched with beauties—something difficult to achieve in reality, yet easily attained in the game.

As long as you're wealthy enough, powerful enough, playful enough, and attentive enough, finding a "devoted" gaming wife is not much of a challenge.

But take note, this only applies to the exceptional few.

While "not a flirt" carries the same meaning, statistics show that very few, regardless of gender, can truly stick to it.

Composite rating: Four black stars.
Overall likelihood of being foolish: 85%.

As for other terms—like "Martian ten thousand years," "showing off the lowest bar," "trigger," "rookie tiger"—there are plenty that are equally foolish.

After a brief bout of idle chatter, Li Xin joined in with a few subtle and deeply meaningful replies, then finally turned his attention to analyzing the post in earnest.

Though the thread’s author and the other commenters still didn’t fully grasp what the Adventurers’ Guild really represented, based on their experiences with novels and games, they had a rough idea of its structure and significance.

However, none had guessed that this was the main core of the branch version, and their conversation was still limited to feelings and speculation.

Li Xin made a mental note of the username "Aristotle" before shutting off the computer, picking up his phone, and lying down on the bed. After dying once in "King of Games," a cooldown period had been imposed, and there were still forty-six hours left before he could play again.

At the moment he slit his throat, turning into a streak of light, Li Xin felt a pang of regret—he shouldn't have tried to show off.

The existence of King of Games was essentially no different from reality; in essence, it was a superpower, akin to some divine ability or immortal art. But in the real world, one hour equaled twenty-four hours in "Odyssey." With a forty-eight hour cooldown in King of Games, did that mean he’d have to wait twenty-four times forty-eight hours in "Odyssey"?

Nonsense, that couldn’t be...

Fortunately, after his character respawned at the resurrection point in Santiago City, Li Xin quickly checked and found that the cooldown times in both were synchronized, based on real time.

That was a relief.

He opened his phone to find three new text alerts.

The first, from an unknown number: "Brother Li, it’s Ke’er! Have you thought about what I mentioned last time? My cousin asked me to tell you that even if your health truly is an issue, you can still participate in the competition. She’ll make adjustments so you can balance work and rest. Take care of your business first. Love, your little Ke’er~~~"

This girl—who knew what favors she’d collected from her cousin. Instead of focusing on the game, she was only thinking of finishing her own little task.

The second, from Li Yao: "Brother Li, when are you coming back? Why haven’t you called? Did something happen? We’re all waiting for you at the store. Come back soon."

These folks in the shop were practically the only family he had left.

The third, from Er Gouzi: "Bro, having fun these days? I signed up for the game tournament—are you coming?"

"This guy, ha," Li Xin chuckled, and replied, "I’ll be there."

He then sent messages to Jiang Ke’er and Li Yao, turned off the lights, pulled the covers over himself, and soon drifted into sleep.

Early morning on the twenty-fourth, as the sky was just beginning to lighten, Li Xin rose, dressed in workout clothes, and went for his morning run. The villa complex where Wang Xiaoqian lived was only five hundred meters from the riverside park, and every morning he’d come here for a jog.

Now that his health was gradually recovering, he was determined to lose weight. Though not exactly overweight, he wasn’t in good shape either. He’d spent the last ten years shut away in a tiny room, practicing over and over—what a waste, now that he thought about it. Besides, Li Xin figured losing weight was a kind of cosmetic transformation; fewer people would recognize him.

The riverside park was vast, a full three kilometers around. It was late autumn, everything withering, leaves falling everywhere. Looking out, the bare branches stretched like swaying, skeletal ghosts. The weather had turned cold without warning, and Li Xin made a mental note to switch to long sleeves after he got back.

He spotted an empty stone bench and was about to sit down for a rest when a strong, sharp-eyed man appeared.

"Hello, are you Mr. Li Xin?"

The man’s voice was deep, carrying a faint but undeniable authority.

Li Xin frowned; the man was clearly a professional bodyguard. Here in Gaoyou, where he barely knew anyone except Wang Xiaoqian, he was unlikely to have attracted the notice of any other wealthy individuals.

"Hello, I’m Li Xin. What can I do for you?"

"Mr. Li, Mr. Zhou invites you to join him for morning tea." The man, named Zheng Pu, was Mr. Zhou’s personal bodyguard, thirty-two years old.

"Mr. Zhou? I don’t believe I know anyone by that name," Li Xin replied with a calm smile.

"That’s right, you don’t know him, but Mr. Zhou knows you. Please, Mr. Li." Zheng Pu was direct, making no effort to conceal his intentions.

Seeing that the man meant no harm, Li Xin thought for a moment, then followed.

They rode to Mr. Zhou’s home on the southern bank. As soon as he entered, Li Xin saw Mr. Zhou standing on the second-floor balcony, leaning against the railing, watching him approach. His complexion was rosy, his features kindly and dignified.

Striding upstairs, Li Xin clasped his hands in greeting. "Greetings, Mr. Zhou."

"No need for formalities, please sit," Mr. Zhou replied, his voice booming with vigor and authority. "I’ve prepared some breakfast; have a bite first."

Li Xin recognized it—the aura of someone long accustomed to power.

A pot of jasmine tea, fried dough sticks, steamed buns, tofu pudding, and a plate of northern-style mung bean cakes made for a sumptuous breakfast. Steam curled upward, freshly prepared.

"Eat while it’s hot," Mr. Zhou smiled.

"Thank you, I am rather hungry, so I won’t stand on ceremony." With that, Li Xin began to eat, devouring the food with gusto.

Suddenly, the crisp sound of footsteps came from upstairs. Li Xin looked up to see a beautiful young woman in a light green tracksuit, her ponytail swinging, her features radiating a spirited air.

He was about to speak when she suddenly let out a shriek and charged over, face twisted in panic and anger.

"You—you—you—you ate everything! You didn’t leave me any!"

"Uh..." Li Xin was speechless. He looked down—she was right, there was barely anything left.

"I’m sorry, truly, I didn’t mean to. I was just so hungry, and I had no idea you’d be coming down for breakfast."

"Yu Huan, he didn’t know. Besides, Mr. Li is our guest. Apologize to him," Mr. Zhou interjected gently. He knew his beloved granddaughter’s temper well—usually lively and endearing, but once angry, she was like a force of nature and wouldn’t calm down until she’d vented her frustration.

"Apologize? Why should I apologize?" Zhou Yuhuan frowned and snorted. "What kind of guest is this? He’s like a starving wolf—no manners at all. Let me teach you a lesson!"

Before her words had faded, Zhou Yuhuan whipped up her right leg, launching a powerful kick his way.