The news that "Holy Spirit Jianghu" had hired the recently viral internet streamer "Cat Paw's Top Beauty" as their promotional cosplayer wasn't announced until the game's poster was released.
"Cat Paw's Top Beauty" had initially gained fame for her stunning looks—her transformation videos switching between sweet JK uniforms and sultry red dresses had captivated countless viewers. Yet, she rarely wore exaggerated outfits during her livestreams, often appearing barefaced in loungewear while solving elementary-level Olympiad math problems. She had never once attempted the elaborate cosplays other streamers flaunted.
No one had ever seen "Cat Paw's Top Beauty" in cosplay.
That was, until "Holy Spirit Jianghu" launched its open beta, and users stumbled upon the game’s promotional poster on their feeds.
This poster, which the official account had hyped up with unwavering confidence—only to be mercilessly mocked before its reveal—was finally unveiled.
At first glance, people intended to scroll past it, but their eyes lingered, transfixed. When they finally snapped out of their daze, they were struck by a terrifying realization: the game company, once ridiculed and boycotted… hadn’t been lying.
Not only had they not lied, they had understated the truth. No wonder the official account had dared to hype it up. No wonder they had refused to back down despite the backlash. Their confidence came from one undeniable fact—it was that good.
Unlike other game-promoting cosplays where heavy makeup made female characters look lifeless, or the bland, ethereal aesthetic of many fantasy dramas, every detail in this poster meticulously recreated Xing Yao’s in-game model—yet every detail also carried something more: the vibrant energy of a real, living person.
Just like in the original "Holy Spirit Jianghu" novel, Xing Yao wasn’t some flat, cold character. She was witty, optimistic, and brimming with the lively spirit of a real girl.
This breathtakingly authentic portrayal came from none other than "Cat Paw's Top Beauty," the viral sensation who had earned her title through her transformation videos.
Now, she was Xing Yao.
As beautiful, spirited, and vivid as the character from the book—a living, breathing Xing Yao.
Who knew a cosplay could fit this perfectly?
Book and character fans weren’t hard to please. They’d just been burned too many times by adaptations that butchered the source material. To protect themselves, they instinctively rejected any live-action portrayal of their beloved 2D characters. But if the production team put in the effort—carefully selecting the right actor and preserving the character’s essence—fans would be the first to celebrate the result.
The power of a single stunning image was immense. The moment the poster dropped, the previously overlooked "Holy Spirit Jianghu" promo post went viral. Xing Yao’s fans were overjoyed to see their favorite character brought to life so flawlessly. Truly, the essence of humanity was the inevitability of falling for something you once mocked. The game’s official comments section was flooded with awestruck reactions:
[HOLY SHIT I’M DEAD—THIS IS XING YAO HERSELF, RIGHT? RIGHT?!]
[I owe the official account an apology. You weren’t lying, and you weren’t a secret hater either. Nothing could’ve been more worth the wait! Your company is a beacon of hope for games!]
[This is insane. Where did the game company even dig up "Cat Paw's Top Beauty" for this cos? I’ve mentally run through every actress and influencer, and no one else could’ve pulled this off!]
[The first cosplay I’ve seen that’s even better than the in-game model. I never knew realism could be this mesmerizing. Unreal.]
[It’s her… my Yao Yao. Just thinking about it makes me wanna cry again.]
[How is it that a game company’s cosplay outshines big-budget TV adaptations? Unbelievable.]
[It’s not just the outfit and accessories—her expression is spot-on. Our Yao Yao always smiled like this, even when she was fading away… (sobs)]
[No amount of styling can compensate for lackluster visuals, but her face is next-level. Thank you, Gu Ran, for making the impossible feel real. Thank you, game company, for giving us this Xing Yao!]
[Enough talk. I’m downloading the game right now.]
[Official account, I mocked you before, and I was wrong. Any chance you’re doing a poster giveaway? (cries)]
…
That day, with the overwhelming support of Xing Yao’s fanbase—conquered by that god-tier poster—"Holy Spirit Jianghu," which everyone had expected to flop, skyrocketed to the top of app download charts. Gu Ran’s face was plastered across every platform, and her follower count exploded.
When Gu Ran saw her cosplay shared on her own feed, she braced for backlash from Xing Yao’s notoriously picky and fierce fans. But instead of criticism, they flocked to follow her. She finally let out a sigh of relief.
Though a small fraction of Xing Yao’s fans still preferred the purity of the written character—some people simply adored the beauty of words—even they admitted this was a flawless cosplay.
The "Holy Spirit Jianghu" official account then announced that "Cat Paw's Top Beauty" would livestream playing the game in full cosplay that night. A flood of new subscribers poured in.
At 7:30 PM, Gu Ran, now dressed and made up as Xing Yao, turned on her stream.
The chat was instantly filled with:
[See? I told you Gu Ran was perfect for Xing Yao!]
Gu Ran took a deep breath, introduced herself to the new fans, and started streaming "Holy Spirit Jianghu." The game company had given her an early access version. She wasn’t a pro gamer—her skills were average at best—but since this was for promotion, it didn’t matter.
She focused on playing the game.
…
Nan Chen Mansion.
Ji Shiyu found himself here again, in the absence of his little canary.
Perhaps it was because of that night—the night Gu Ran refused to go home with him, her words leaving him stunned.
The man closed his eyes, sitting on the cold, empty living room sofa, telling himself to stop dwelling on it. But when he opened a random app, an ad for "Holy Spirit Jianghu" appeared on his homepage.
Don’t think about her. Yet he couldn’t help it.
Ji Shiyu’s gaze locked onto the poster—Gu Ran, clad in cosplay, looking every bit like Xing Yao’s animated counterpart.
He had seen Gu Ran in lavish evening gowns, wrapped in haute couture, but never like this.
Playful, lively—not the canary who once bid 370 million for a painting, but simply a beautiful young girl in a cosplay outfit.
He had always avoided watching her streams. This time, he finally opened the Cat Paw app, buried in the depths of his phone.
And there, on the recommended page, was "Cat Paw's Top Beauty’s Livestream."
Ji Shiyu clicked into the stream.
He saw Gu Ran dressed in the same outfit as the game’s promotional poster, live-streaming her gameplay of the title she was endorsing.
“Ah, this monster’s too strong—we can’t beat it! Run!”
“The grass here is so thick—let’s hide in it. Maybe they won’t find us.”
“They spotted me! I’m gonna die—someone save me! Ah, I’m dead!”
“Wahhhhhh…”
As she played, the live chat flooded with comments:
【LMAO why is she so bad at this game yet I can’t stop watching? This is hilarious!】
【Three deaths in one hour. Thought she was a pro, turns out she’s a noob. Not even money can save her gameplay. I’m dying.】
【You guys are so mean! Ranran’s upset about dying again! Someone give her a hug and comfort her!】
【My Ran is so gorgeous prprprpr】
【Wanna cuddle with wifey】
【That pouty face got me hooked again. Serious question: how do I marry a girl like this?!】
Ji Shiyu frowned as he read the comments, irritation prickling under his skin. He exited the stream abruptly, staring blankly at the empty room before finally making a call. “Let’s grab a drink.”
…
It was barely 10 PM, and the city’s neon-lit nightlife was just beginning.
By the time Gu Mingjing arrived, several empty bottles already stood on the table in front of Ji Shiyu. The man’s shirt was unbuttoned at the collar, his cold gaze fixed on the writhing crowd on the dance floor. A few women had been eyeing him—his looks and style screamed “elite”—but his bodyguards intercepted them before they could approach.
“If you’re drinking, hurry up,” Gu Mingjing said as he sat down. A server promptly filled his glass.
Ji Shiyu glanced at his friend’s rushed demeanor. “In a hurry to get back to your college sweetheart?”
Gu Mingjing chuckled. “Married life, you know? Can’t compare to you—free as a bird.”
Ji Shiyu: “…”
Gu Mingjing swirled his drink but didn’t take a sip. “Gotta hand it to you. After that post Gu Ran made, I really thought you two were getting hitched next month. Then poof—it’s over. One day she’s dropping 370 million on a painting, the next she’s a streamer. Thought you’d spoiled her into helplessness, but turns out she’s doing just fine without you.”
Ji Shiyu downed his glass in one go. “Yeah. Just fine.”
Gu Mingjing took a sip, smirking. “Know what that proves? She never cared about the money—all those millions were just numbers to her. She really loved you.”
He had a rough idea why Gu Ran left. Xu Hui had mentioned the fight in Ji Shiyu’s office.
Ji Shiyu stayed silent, his nerves tightening at Gu Mingjing’s words.
“Really?” He laughed humorlessly.
Gu Mingjing studied his friend’s stony expression. They’d known each other since childhood, attended the same schools. He’d seen Ji Shiyu and Qin Wenyi’s high-profile campus romance, and he’d also spotted Gu Ran hiding in the garden outside the basketball court, watching games from the shadows.
He didn’t think Ji Shiyu still had feelings for Qin Wenyi. He’d never believed those two belonged together in the first place. But her return had undeniably stirred the pot.
“You still don’t get it, do you?” Gu Mingjing said. “You hated Gu Ran taking the initiative about marriage, right? Hated her showing up at your office demanding to register.”
“But have you ever wondered why she did it? I told you—she didn’t care about the money. She loved you.”
“The day she came to you was the day the news broke that Qin Wenyi wasn’t dead. You might think ‘so what?’ but you can’t expect Gu Ran to feel the same.”
“Your campus sweetheart—your ‘white moonlight’—is back. Everyone used to say you two were a match made in heaven. With your attitude, if I were Gu Ran, I’d want to lock you down too. Before your ‘white moonlight’ stole you away.”
“But hey, problem solved.” Gu Mingjing spread his hands. “No wedding needed. You’re free to run off with anyone now.”
“She even blessed you two in her post. Classy.”
Ji Shiyu stood abruptly.
Gu Mingjing rose with an amused grin. “Hmm?”
“That game deal of hers is solid. At her level, the endorsement fees must be hefty. She might not be buying million-dollar diamonds or billion-dollar paintings anymore, but she’ll live comfortably.”
“Congrats.” He clapped Ji Shiyu’s shoulder, then checked his watch. “Wives are such a hassle, though. Gotta be home by 11 to cuddle and sleep. I’m out. Enjoy your drinks.”
Ji Shiyu didn’t stay. He left the bar alone.
The chauffeur drove smoothly, the car silent until a call suddenly rang through the speakers—the driver had meant to decline but accidentally answered.
“Honey, when are you coming home?”
“Daddy, come tell me a story!”
A woman’s gentle voice and a child’s bright chatter filled the cabin.
The driver panicked, fumbling to end the call. “My apologies, Mr. Ji.”
Ji Shiyu leaned back, eyes closed. “It’s fine.”
Suddenly, he remembered—the relentless calls from Gu Ran when he worked late or traveled. And that day at Beiyi, her smiling promise to the old man: “We’ll have three kids after we marry.”
