AFM Ch 6 Part 3

Jing Mian was somewhat bewildered. He casually killed a minor monster, grabbed his backpack, and with a flashlight in hand, decided to enter a supply room on the third floor of the haunted house. According to his memory, that room was usually rich in resources, making it an ideal spot for replenishing health and stamina.

However, as soon as Jing Mian opened the door, his pupils shrank in shock. The room, which should have been nearly devoid of ghosts, was now packed with them! Upon hearing the door open, they all turned their heads in unison, hissing menacingly.

Jing Mian was stunned. In the darkness, his flashlight became the only source of light illuminating the ghastly figures. What was going on? From his rookie days to now, having mastered the map after about forty runs, Jing Mian had never encountered such a bizarre situation. Why would the ghosts gather inexplicably in one room… and in what was statistically the safest supply room?

The live audience watching through Mianmian’s perspective saw their chat explode in that instant:

“Damn, that scared the hell out of me.”

“I’ve been gaming for over six years, and it’s the first time I’ve seen so many ghosts in that room.”

“A spectacle indeed, but how do you even play when so many ghosts gang up? Just surrender.”

“Run, Mianmian, run!!!”

“Is this a bug or what??”

At the moment the door opened, Jing Mian made a split-second decision to flee… without looking back. Although he was well-equipped, he could at most handle three monsters simultaneously on a good day. Surrounded by such a horde, they would surely leave nothing of him but bones.

As Jing Mian sprinted through the corridor, he didn’t dare look back, yet he wasn’t running blindly; he deliberately headed towards the staircase. The third floor had turned into a veritable hell on earth. During his frantic escape, Jing Mian caught a fleeting glimpse of a human figure. It was just a brief flash before it vanished. Narrowing his eyes, Jing Mian realized it wasn’t his imagination. It was another player, and by the looks of their uniform, likely from the opposing team.

Jing Mian’s mind raced, recalling a skill he had seen before—where a player, upon encountering ghosts, would choose not to fight but to run, leading the ghosts to a desired location before drinking an invisibility potion. At that moment, the ghosts would suddenly lose their target and stand still. This skill was rare and required a hefty investment, typically used in darker maps. Due to its unfair advantage over other players, admins often banned those who used it, leading to its decreased usage and near disappearance from the market.

Could someone from the opposing team have used this skill?

Then, the truth was revealed through the chat:

【Li Shengwen!!】

【Damn, I switched to the other team’s view, and it was Li Shengwen who used the invisibility potion. Isn’t that banned in competitions?】

【Bro, it seems that rule only applies to national competitions, not cross-server ones…】

【Classic loophole exploitation.】

【I watched the whole thing! Li Shengwen targeted Mianmian on purpose. His teammates told him Mianmian was on the third floor, so he went there first, used the invisibility potion to attract all sorts of ghosts, and gathered them in the room with the most supplies, just waiting for Jing Mian to fall into the trap.】

【So infuriating, why pick on our Mianmian?】

This tactic clearly incited the audience’s anger.

Meanwhile, Jing Mian’s escape continued. Relying on his instincts, he navigated the corridors, leaping over numerous barriers with the floorboards creaking beneath him, and his character’s breaths coming in panicked, rapid gasps. Jing Mian made several sharp turns, but none slowed the ghosts’ relentless pursuit. Each ghost moved at different speeds; some were slow, but others matched human speed, and a few were even capable of catching up after just a few steps.

It was a no-win situation. Facing such a multitude of ghosts, not just a single player, but even a whole team, if they couldn’t replenish their supplies and potions fast enough to restore stamina and health, would undoubtedly be wiped out.

Jing Mian was running out of hope as he fled.

Where could he possibly run to?

Sooner or later, he would be caught.

Just now, whether Jing Mian thought to go upstairs or downstairs, he found ghosts guarding every staircase, and upon making eye contact, they joined the horde chasing him.

Jing Mian: “…” It was all because I glanced at you one more time among the ghosts.

What a predicament.

As things progressed, Jing Mian realized that someone had deliberately set this trap for him.

But clearly, the opponent had succeeded, and the situation was now irreversible.

In a moment of desperation, Jing Mian stumbled into a dead end, then suddenly turned and burst through the wooden door of a room.

After entering, he discovered a conspicuous, worn notch in the room’s wall, just big enough for a person to pass through—clearly leading to another room.

And that room’s floor had a rotten, collapsed section that led directly down to the second floor.

Moreover, ghosts couldn’t cross between floors.

Although this move would cause the player to lose a significant amount of health due to the fall, Jing Mian had no other choice at this point.

He quickly crouched and slid agilely through the gap into the next room.

The ghosts hurriedly followed.

“…”

But as soon as he entered, Jing Mian was stunned.

Where was the promised hole in the floor?

The room’s floor was unexpectedly clean and even seemed freshly renovated.

Forget a hole; there wasn’t even a flaw to be found.

Jing Mian, now utterly hopeless, realized he had been completely duped by the system and the setup.

The room was bare, devoid of any supplies or even furniture, with only a window that cast the pale moonlight inside.

One by one, the ghosts surged through the gap.

Jing Mian sighed deeply as he turned to look.

If he was going to die, so be it, he thought.

But suddenly, he didn’t want to die at the hands of these fierce ghosts, as if that would somehow play right into the trapper’s hands.

This thought sparked a new resolve in Jing Mian.

Quickly, his gaze fixed on the window.

Without any hesitation or second thoughts, Jing Mian made his character leap towards the window.

In that instant, his sturdy arms, even through the fabric of his clothes, shattered the glass!

The ghosts let out furious roars, rushing towards Jing Mian, unwilling to give up, as if determined to drag him back.

Jing Mian’s feet were perched on the edge of the window, and just as the horde of ghosts was about to touch him, he made a resolute leap downward! With the enhancement of his latest headset, Jing Mian felt as if he were truly there, experiencing the whooshing wind in his ears, accompanied by the angry howls of the ghosts behind him. Normally, players couldn’t escape through windows mid-game, whether on the first, second, third floor or even higher. Jumping out a window meant certain death, a desperate last resort for cornered humans.

But as he fell, Jing Mian thought he heard a faint noise through his headset. It sounded like a fiercely intense wind, rustling quietly yet its direction indiscernible, only the sensation of it approaching rapidly, with a heavy pressure and an enigmatic warmth, as if it was drawing near.

Jing Mian’s heart skipped a beat. This feeling… he was familiar with it. Just a few days ago, during a live stream, he had experienced something similar. Jing Mian’s Adam’s apple bobbed involuntarily. He couldn’t be mistaken. That was… Ash!!

The fierce wind in his ears suddenly ceased. The legs of his avatar, which were plummeting down, were suddenly caught by a pair of arms. Although it was hard to see, Jing Mian could sense that…

Shadow Guard had arrived close by.

Then, Jing Mian felt it—his falling speed began to decrease! In such a dire moment, it seemed he was being carried princess-style by Shadow Guard. The descent slowed from a plummet to a gentle drop. Even as he landed, the close embrace allowed Jing Mian to get a clear view of Ash’s form.

Jing Mian heard his own heart pounding.

…

Meanwhile, this scene was also displayed on the live stream, sending the chat into an unprecedented frenzy:

【Holy shit, is that Ash??!】

【Ash!!!】

【The god’s Shadow Guard form has appeared ahhh!】

【Why don’t I get this treatment when I jump out of windows? I just get a restart screen, sob sob】

【I’m so excited I’m speechless…】

【Ash’s character in the game is so cool, I can already imagine him in real life.】

【Sob sob Ash look at me, I’ve been your fan for seven years】

【This scene feels like… a descent of a deity.】

…

Someone suddenly commented on that last line. Jing Mian held his breath, almost unable to speak.

The hand resting on the mouse seemed to sense its owner’s shifting emotions, the fingertips growing icy cold. This was a first. There had been times when Ash appeared to bail him out after a careless mistake, and times when Jing Mian deliberately courted danger to test his Shadow Guard. But in all those instances, he was lucid, without any hint of surprise deep within. Because he knew Ash would appear. But this time, without any premonition, his heart raced uncontrollably, disobediently.

After landing smoothly on the ground, Ash fell silent for a moment before slowly setting him down. Jing Mian’s hands on the keyboard stiffened, unsure of how to react. Just then—

The mechanical voice of the system announced, “Team ME. wins!!”

With the game’s conclusion, the Shadow Guard vanished instantly. Only their excited teammates remained, howling and standing up to celebrate the victory.

It turned out that the room at the end, which suddenly had no holes leading to the second floor, had a reason for being so. It had been deliberately modified. This was the creative twist in this cross-server match. Only by jumping out of this window could one achieve victory. What seemed like a dead end was actually the only door to success.

The match over, Jing Mian leaned back in his chair, his thoughts still not quite catching up. It was a thrilling and unexpected game. If he hadn’t joined Team ME., would he ever have had the chance to see Ash like this?

Jing Mian unwrapped a peppermint candy and popped it into his mouth. The cool flavor spread across his lips and teeth, helping clear his head. But then, suddenly, his phone rang. It was Ren Xingwan.

Jing Mian paused, an involuntary nervousness seizing him. After all, it had only been four days since Mr. Ren had proposed to him. And just three days ago, they had registered their marriage at the Civil Affairs Bureau. From childhood friends to strangers who had grown apart, and then to bewilderingly becoming lovers upon reuniting…

Even now, it didn’t feel real. But that made sense. After all, they were a couple in name only, married for their families’ sake. Emotions were something he couldn’t afford to dwell on.

Answering the call, Jing Mian learned that Mr. Ren’s car was parked outside, asking him to come out for a moment.

Jing Mian: “?”

Without hesitation, Jing Mian hurried outside. He quickly recognized Mr. Ren’s car and jogged over. Opening the passenger door, he slid into the seat.

Jing Mian was somewhat puzzled by Mr. Ren’s sudden summons, so he remained seated, quietly waiting for Mr. Ren to speak. However, instead of speaking, the man handed him a beautifully packaged small round box. It was adorned with the shape of an ice cream scoop, looking lovely and exquisite, and was subtly labeled with vanilla flavor—his favorite.

Jing Mian was taken aback, his face slowly registering surprise and a barely noticeable delight. During their first meeting, aside from the delicious array of dishes on the table, his favorite had been that particular dessert… It seemed that Mr. Ren had quietly noted his preference back then and had made a special effort to bring it to him today.

But Jing Mian wondered, such an easily melting treat, and considering the considerable distance from the competition venue to here, how had Mr. Ren managed to preserve it?

With this thought, Jing Mian couldn’t help but ask. Mr. Ren glanced towards the back seat. Following his gaze, Jing Mian turned and noticed a portable mini-fridge on the seat, from which it seemed the ice cream had been retrieved.

Jing Mian exclaimed internally, “Wow, that’s pretty hardcore.”

At the same time, Jing Mian felt a small surge of astonishment and was touched. Mr. Ren seemed even more attentive than he had imagined. However, as Jing Mian continued to enjoy the ice cream, Mr. Ren suddenly remarked, “It’s gotten on your clothes.”

Startled, Jing Mian instinctively looked down. He was still wearing the coat borrowed from a senior team member. It was a new piece of clothing, and Jing Mian would feel terribly embarrassed if he dirtied it, so he quickly stopped eating and bent his head down to inspect his clothes, murmuring, “Hmm…? Where?”

“It fell inside your collar, take it off,” Mr. Ren’s voice was deep and calm.

Obediently, Jing Mian took off the coat and handed it to Mr. Ren, who took it and set it aside quietly. Before Jing Mian could react, he suddenly found himself draped in another coat—this one black, shielding him from the slightly chilly air outside, large and warm.

And it carried the familiar scent of Mr. Ren.

“Actually, it didn’t get on the coat,” Mr. Ren said, “Wear this one.”

Jing Mian was speechless…

Wrapped in Mr. Ren’s coat, Jing Mian held the mostly eaten ice cream and slowly made his way back to the competition venue, a bit dazed. He didn’t ride back with Mr. Ren because the team captain had mentioned needing to lead the members to meet with some club investors for a brief interaction after the match.

Moreover, as Jing Mian left earlier, he heard Mr. Ren mention that both families, upon hearing of their progress, decided to meet. Yes, they were going to meet the parents. Of course, no one yet knew that they were already married, giving off a vibe of ‘strangers in public, married in secret.’ The meeting was scheduled for the evening the day after tomorrow, and conveniently, Jing Mian didn’t have classes that day. As he pondered what to wear for the occasion, Jing Mian returned backstage.

Jing Mian neatly folded the coat he had borrowed from his senior, thanked him, and returned it. However, he was already wearing a new coat. A young woman on the team, responsible for finances, tilted her head slightly, her gaze landing on Jing Mian’s coat—it seemed to catch her attention. The dark coat was clearly too large for Jing Mian, looking as if someone else had draped it over him. And this coat… she felt she had seen it somewhere before.

Racking her brain, the young woman suddenly paused, her eyebrows lifting as she remembered where she had seen the coat—it was in a photo from a celebrity airport pickup she had seen on her phone that morning! Being a fan of the hottest male celebrity of the moment, she not only followed his airport photos but also kept tabs on his schedules and outfits. Thus, the coat had made a strong impression on her.

But the more she looked, the more uncertain she became. This coat—

Could it be… the one Ren Xingwan wore earlier today?

And it seemed to be the same one from this morning!

Moreover, she was sure that the coat on Jing Mian wasn’t one of those counterfeit celebrity styles that sellers quickly produce, as Ren Xingwan’s clothes were mostly custom-made, and this coat was no exception.

It had just been worn for the first time this morning, and now there was an identical one in the evening? How could that be possible?

…Clearly, it wasn’t possible.

A shocking suspicion suddenly dawned on the young woman.

Could Jing Mian be wearing… Ren Xingwan’s coat?!