Quick Transmigration: The Sweetheart Everyone Loves Is Stuck in Romantic Chaos Every Day - Chapter 173

“Tangtang, are you really going to add him?”

Ruan Tang answered without hesitation.

“Mm. He’s pretty fun, and he’s good at games too.”

Of course, that wasn’t the real reason.

The most important part was what the system had just told her: he was one of her mission targets.

Another name for her “scumbag collection list.”

Adding him as a friend would only make it easier to keep “raising her fish.”
(t/n: “raising fish” is Chinese internet slang for stringing along multiple admirers at once, like keeping fish in a pond.)

Wen Yan fell silent.

After a while, his voice came out low, slightly muffled.

“Sorry… Am I too dull and boring?”

In the past, he had indeed been a complete workaholic.

Other than work, nothing could capture his attention or stir his passion.

Naturally, he wasn’t used to chatting about lighthearted or fun topics.

On top of that, Tangtang was still in college—he was a full decade older than her.

In a young girl’s eyes, did he already count as an uncle?

The more Wen Yan thought about it, the more insecure he became. His hand clenched hard around the phone.

But then he heard Ruan Tang’s soft, gentle voice:

“Brother Yan, you’re warm and reliable. With you around, I feel like I never have to worry about anything. I really like that kind of personality too.”

Wen Yan’s face flushed red in an instant.

His clear, handsome features were tinged with color.

She said she liked it?

Overjoyed, he didn’t even notice the key detail: Ruan Tang had said she liked it too…

And so, Yan Ri joined Ruan Tang’s team.

They played together and won game after game all night.

By ten o’clock, Ruan Tang let out a little yawn.

The soft, kitten-like sound made both men on the team feel their ears burn hot.

Wen Yan, ever thoughtful and gentle, reminded her:

“Tangtang, are you sleepy? You should rest early. We can play again tomorrow.”

“Eh…”

Ruan Tang’s voice turned drowsy, sticky-sweet, with a touch of grievance:

“But I haven’t played enough yet…”

Yan Ri had originally wanted to tell her to sleep too, but Wen Yan beat him to it. Irritation bubbled in his chest.

He muttered darkly:

“Tangtang can sleep whenever she wants! I’ll always be here to keep her company! If you’re tired, then hurry up and leave.”

Wen Yan frowned.

“Staying up late is bad for you.”

Yan Ri snorted.

“Ten o’clock isn’t late at all!”

He lived on an upside-down schedule himself and rarely slept before dawn. To him, ten o’clock was nothing.

Ruan Tang yawned again, then said:

“Brother Yan, don’t you have to wake up early for work tomorrow? You should go sleep first.”

Yan Ri laughed maliciously.

“So you still have to wake up early for a job? Then yeah, you’d better hurry and get to bed.”

Wen Yan’s tone stayed cool and unhurried.

“It doesn’t matter. The company belongs to me. I decide when work starts.”

Yan Ri: “…”

…Shit. He was the big boss?!

At that moment, Wen Yan gently reminded her:

“Tangtang, don’t you… still have something tomorrow morning?”

Ruan Tang blinked, not immediately catching on.

“Huh? Tomorrow morning…”

Wen Yan softened his voice, smiling indulgently:

“The event at eight o’clock. Did you forget?”

He was referring to a collaborative streaming event on her platform.

Since Yan Ri still didn’t know Ruan Tang was a streamer, Wen Yan kept it vague.

Ruan Tang suddenly remembered.

“Oh right! I almost forgot! Thanks for reminding me, Brother Yan! I’d better go sleep now! Brother Yan, Yan Ri, goodnight!”

And just like that, she logged off before either of them could reply.

Wen Yan sighed helplessly, lips curving in a faint smile.

“Always so fiery and impatient.”

Yan Ri muttered sourly:

“What event tomorrow? How do you even know? Are you two that close? Are you her friend offline?”

Faced with his rival’s barrage of questions, Wen Yan dropped his usual gentleness. His tone turned cold and distant.

“Why should I tell you?”

Yan Ri: …wanted to curse.

But before he could, Wen Yan had already quit the team—completely cutting him off.

Yan Ri ground his teeth in rage.

Damn it! That bastard of a big boss! May your company go bankrupt!!!

What he didn’t realize was—if Wen Yan’s company really did go bankrupt, the game Final Showdown would have to shut down too.

And as a professional player, Yan Ri would instantly lose his career.

In cursing Wen Yan, he cursed himself as well.

Yan Ri couldn’t bring himself to log off yet.

He opened his chat with Ruan Tang, struggled for a long time, then finally sent a long voice message—serious, embarrassed, and hesitant all at once.

【Can I add your WeChat? It’s just to make it easier for us to play together later, nothing else, don’t be scared or misunderstand! I swear I’m not some creepy weirdo! I absolutely don’t want to do anything strange to you! …Shit, what am I even saying… Anyway, I, I, um… I li—】

The message cut off.

The last two words didn’t make it through.

Yan Ri’s handsome face was burning red.

He cursed loudly: “Shit!”

Then squatted down, clutching his head, sinking into deep emo-mode.

He nearly scared the crap out of a teammate who had gotten up to use the bathroom.

“Holy crap, what the hell is that?!”

All they saw was a dark, shadowy lump squatting under the desk—creepy as hell.

The shadow stirred, and a low, muffled voice came out:

“You’re the damn ghost.”

His teammate’s mouth twitched hard.

“Brother Yan, what, are you planning to switch careers and become a mushroom?”

“Get lost. Don’t bother me.”

“What, lovesick? Want me to give you some advice?”

Yan Ri thought about it seriously—then nodded.

He explained his situation.

His teammate nearly died laughing.

“Pfft! Brother Yan, I thought you’d be some veteran playboy, but you’re actually this pure? You’ve never even seen her in person, and you’re already this far gone?”

Yan Ri’s voice was deadly serious:

“It’s not just liking.”

His teammate froze. “Oh, so it’s not… I knew it—”

But Yan Ri’s fist tightened. His voice rang out, firm and absolute:

“It’s love!”

Teammate: “…”

“…Brother Yan, did you get your head stuck in a door? You don’t even know what she looks like, and you’re calling it love?”

The words struck a nerve. His teammate sighed, patting his shoulder with exaggerated gravity.

“Listen. You can’t trust people online. Photos can be photoshopped, videos have filters, voices can use changers. How do you even know if she’s human, not a ghost?”

Yan Ri’s brows furrowed.

“Don’t you dare talk about her like that.”

Then, after a pause, his tone dead serious again:

“Besides… no matter what she looks like, I’ll still love her.”

Silence.

Clearly, Brother Yan was too far gone.

So the teammate threw in the nuclear bomb:

“What if she’s a guy?”

He’d fallen for that trap once himself—still scarred from it.

Yan Ri fell silent.

His teammate chuckled smugly.

“See? You’re hesitating.”

But Yan Ri’s brows only furrowed deeper as he gave it serious thought.

“That’s true… it could happen. I don’t know much about that. Maybe I should start studying this stuff ahead of time?”

Teammate: “…………”

…Bury him. No saving this guy.