This match went incredibly smoothly.
When the game settled, Qiao Liuyue's Galo had secured the title of Gold Marksman with the highest damage output in the entire match and zero deaths.
Meanwhile, "Thanks, Goodbye"'s Zhuang Zhou had also earned the Silver Support title.
As they returned to the lobby screen, a message arrived almost instantly.
Thanks, Goodbye: [Boss, still playing?]
Qiao Liuyue was about to reply, her fingertips already hovering over the input box.
But Dong Jiaoyan—perhaps stirred by their smooth teamwork in that round—felt a sour, bitter churning rise in her chest.
She nudged Qiao Liuyue's arm with the light pressure of her elbow.
Her voice carried a faint, subtle hint of jealousy.
"Liuyue, I'm getting sleepy. You can play with my boyfriend again tomorrow."
"Okay." Qiao Liuyue responded agreeably.
She lowered her head and typed a line in the game interface.
The World's Cutest Support: [I'm tired today. Let's continue tomorrow.]
Thanks, Goodbye: [OK.]
Dong Jiaoyan had just felt satisfied that Qiao Liuyue had obediently followed her words.
But seeing that her boyfriend responded to the "play again tomorrow" suggestion so readily and without hesitation—
Not even a hint of reluctance—
That bitterness she had just suppressed surged back stronger than before.
She let out a soft huff.
The sound squeezed out through her nose, carrying a hint of resentment. Then she grabbed her phone, pushed open the balcony door of the dorm, and stepped outside to make a call.
It was probably to her online boyfriend, "Thanks, Goodbye."
Through the gap in the dorm’s window and door, Qiao Liuyue could vaguely hear Dong Jiaoyan, as if checking up on him. Her voice fluctuated, sometimes loud, sometimes soft.
She was asking what he had been doing just now.
Qiao Liuyue couldn't make out exactly what he said in response, but his voice was clear.
Deep, magnetic—it sounded very pleasant.
On Monday during class, Dong Jiaoyan, as usual, couldn't get out of bed.
Qiao Liuyue had already finished washing up and was sitting quietly at her desk eating breakfast.
She was holding a vegetable-stuffed bun in her hand.
Dong Jiaoyan poked her head out from the upper bunk with effort, her hair messy, her eyes half-open.
Her voice carried a drowsiness that hadn't yet shaken off the dreams.
"Liuyue, I'm so sleepy!"
"Take the roll call for me in the big lecture today, okay?"
In the past, Qiao Liuyue would have agreed without a second thought.
But now, she paused briefly mid-bite into her bun. Then she swallowed.
She spoke.
"Last time I took attendance for you, that teacher already caught me once."
"Jiaoyan, we're good friends. You wouldn't keep getting me in trouble, would you?"
Fight fire with fire—so Qiao Liuyue quoted Dong Jiaoyan's most frequently used line.
Her tone carried a kind of sincere, innocent, even slightly wounded confusion.
Still lying in bed, Dong Jiaoyan heard this and the weariness on her face was instantly replaced by an irritable scowl.
She tossed and turned, climbing out of bed with such force that she nearly yanked down her bed curtain.
Her face was sour.
"What do you mean, getting you in trouble? You never told me you got caught by the teacher last time."
"If you'd told me earlier, I wouldn't have asked you to help, obviously."
She scratched her tangled hair as she spoke.
Then, with a resigned look, she said:
"Fine, fine. I'll just get up and go to class with you, okay?"
Her tone had shifted into a kind of magnanimous "I'm accommodating you."
With that, Dong Jiaoyun reluctantly climbed down from the bed.
She began rummaging through her things, looking for what to wear today.
By the time Qiao Liuyue had cleaned up the breakfast crumbs from the table, packed her backpack, and picked up her textbooks to head out, Dong Jiaoyan had only just put on her clothes—slowly and grudgingly.
She was still in her slippers, about to go wash up.
As she saw Qiao Liuyue's hand already on the doorknob, she quickly called out, "Liuyue, wait for me!"
Qiao Liuyue turned her head and glanced at the fuzzy slippers on Dong Jiaoyan's feet.
Her tone was calm.
"Jiaojiao, if I wait for you, by the time we get to the classroom, we'll both be late."
She paused, shifting her gaze from the slippers to Dong Jiaoyan's unwashed face.
"We're good friends. You wouldn't make me late too because of your own reasons, would you?"
Dong Jiaoyan hadn't noticed anything before, but this line made her pause mid-step.
She couldn't help but size up the best friend she had known for over a decade.
Yep, it was still the same Qiao Liuyue.
Thick bangs, black-rimmed glasses perched on her nose—the whole look was introverted, quiet, and completely unassuming.
Though today, she wasn't wearing that old-fashioned yellow hoodie. Instead, she had on a white shirt with light-wash jeans, her collar neatly turned out.
Even so, the outfit was still ordinary—the kind that, if dropped into a sea of university students, would take three seconds to lose sight of.
Dong Jiaoyan felt reassured again.
Maybe it was just that her bookworm of a friend was a diligent student—
Afraid of being late, afraid of leaving a bad mark on her transcript—that was why she was so rigid about it.
She waved her hand impatiently, the gesture carrying a hint of disdain.
"Alright, alright. You go ahead."
Qiao Liuyue shot her a glance, deeper than before. Then she turned, cradling her textbooks, and pushed the door open to leave.
The teacher hadn't arrived yet. Many students were already seated in the classroom.
The atmosphere of university lectures was completely different from high school or middle school. Relationships were loose. Aside from a few fixed friend groups in the class, most people's connections were quite superficial.
They'd nod when they met, but wouldn't necessarily remember each other's names after nodding.
Qiao Liuyue found her usual seat and sat down, looking at her phone.
At that moment, the boy in front turned around. He tapped her desk lightly with his knuckle three times.
Qiao Liuyue looked up.
The boy in front had soft, dark hair that fell loosely across his forehead, single eyelids, paired with a pair of metal-framed glasses.
He exuded a strong, almost heavy bookish aura.
But his expression was too serious—his mouth was practically a straight line, giving off an air of being hard to approach.
He was their class monitor, Chu Xubai.
"Monitor, what's up?" Qiao Liuyue asked.
Chu Xubai didn't rush to speak. Instead, he tapped his phone screen a couple of times.
Then he finally spoke.
"Did you forget to fill out the volunteer information form?"
In college, there were many projects that earned credits. One was a visiting-the-elderly-home activity, announced openly in the class for volunteers.
Chu Xubai happened to be the head of the college's Young Volunteers Association, so he naturally posted a notice in his own class asking if anyone wanted to join.
Qiao Liuyue had originally wanted to sign up.
But recently, that whole "testing the online boyfriend" mess with Dong Jiaoyan had thrown her attention into chaos. The matter had slipped her mind.
"Thank you." Qiao Liuyue gave Chu Xubai a smile.
She lowered her head to search for the group message, but that recruitment post had been sent last week, and by now it had been buried under a pile of casual chatter from classmates.
She flipped through several pages but still couldn’t find it, her bangs almost brushing against the screen.
Just as she was about to give up, a voice came from above her head again.
“You can add me,” Chu Xubai said. “I’ll send you the volunteer registration form separately.”
His tone was perfectly natural, as if he were stating something completely ordinary.
