Ch 26: How To Be A Good Lackey

After Shao Ye and Xi Guanming confirmed their relationship, time seemed to pass especially quickly. In the blink of an eye, the semester was over; in another blink, Xi Guanming had graduated, and Shao Ye had moved up to his final year of high school.

Just as Xi Guanming had told him before, there was almost nothing Shao Ye couldn’t do at this school, even though Xi Guanming was no longer the student council president. Still, aside from occasionally showing off a bit among his classmates, Shao Ye didn’t cause any major trouble. That left Xi Guanming feeling faintly disappointed.

It was also that year that Old Master Xi learned his grandson had found himself a boyfriend. He was so angry he didn’t eat for a whole day. In the middle of the night, he woke up and sat there holding his old companion—a thirteen-year-old Alaskan malamute—pondering when exactly their family had developed a “gay gene.”

Fortunately, after two nights, the old man came to terms with it. His grandson had always been emotionally distant; the fact that he had found someone at all was already good enough. No need to demand too much. It was a new era—man or woman, it was all the same.

After graduating, Xi Guanming chose a local university. His course load wasn’t heavy, and when he had time, he would still drop by Golden Laburnum—no one dared stop him. Shao Ye applied for day schooling and didn’t have to attend evening study sessions anymore. After classes, he would go straight home in Xi Guanming’s car. This happy routine continued until Shao Ye finished his college entrance exams.

Every year, about seventy percent of Golden Laburnum’s graduates went on to top universities around the world. As expected, Shao Ye fell into the remaining thirty percent.

After the graduation ceremony, Shao Ye and Xi Guanming returned home. They messed around from the living room to the bathroom, and from the bathroom to the gym, the pink yoga ball bouncing up and down.

In the end, Shao Ye lay on the soft carpet in the living room, bright red cords draped over his body. Under the bright lights, he had to squint. Xi Guanming held both ends of the cords and, in no time, finished arranging them into a new design. Original translation at HololoNovels dot com. The red cords crisscrossed over Shao Ye’s chest, tied deliberately tight so they pressed into his skin. Afterward, Xi Guanming stood back and admired it for a while, clearly pleased.

But later, when they moved into the bedroom, the cords somehow turned into a dead knot. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t untangle them.

Shao Ye panicked. If this stayed wrapped around him, wouldn’t people think he was some kind of freak if he wore less clothing outside? Was this some kind of scheme by the president?

He cast a suspicious glance over, only to see Xi Guanming grab a pair of scissors and snip the cords apart with a clean cut.

Oh. Right. Scissors existed. He must’ve been shaken senseless earlier.

After showering, they went back to bed. Before sleeping, Shao Ye glanced at his phone—it was almost three in the morning. The moment he lay down, he fell asleep, but his rest was anything but peaceful.

He dreamed endlessly, one dream after another, without a moment to breathe. Eventually, half-asleep, he felt as if he were lying in a stark white laboratory. People nearby were reading out data he couldn’t understand.

His heart began to race faster and faster, an overwhelming sensation sweeping through him. He jolted awake.

Xi Guanming hadn’t fallen asleep. Seeing him suddenly sit up, he asked, “What’s wrong? A nightmare?”

“Not a nightmare,” Shao Ye said, clutching his chest. Even now, his heart was pounding uncontrollably. “I don’t know what’s happening. I feel really uneasy, like something big is about to happen. President… could it be an earthquake?”

Didn’t dogs usually start barking first before an earthquake?

The feeling intensified. Shao Ye thought he could hear someone calling his name from far away, as if trying to pull him out of this world. And faintly, he seemed to understand.

Xi Guanming reached over and turned on the bedside lamp. Shao Ye looked at him with attachment, his eyes slightly damp.

“President… I’m leaving,” he said.

Xi Guanming had always kept his darker side well hidden, only revealing glimpses of it when they were together in bed. Shao Ye was tall and strong, like nothing could bring him down. Xi Guanming had always liked teasing him until he cried from sheer overwhelm. But now, seeing him on the verge of real tears, all he felt was a sharp ache in his chest.

He pulled Shao Ye into an embrace. “I know. I know.”

He had long sensed that one day, they would part in this world—but also that one day, they would meet again.

Gently patting Shao Ye’s back, he comforted him, “Baby, don’t be afraid. Don’t be sad. Trust me—we’ll see each other again very soon.”

The night was silent, the moonlight flowing across the sky.

Under the pale glow, Golden Laburnum revealed a quiet beauty different from the daytime. Marble statues pointed toward the artificial lake in the north, where two swans played on the shimmering water.

And with that, the grand live broadcast came to a perfect end.

When Shao Ye opened his eyes again, he found himself lying inside a game pod. Everything around him was stark white, just like in his dream. A staff member from Neverland stood nearby and congratulated him:

“Congratulations, Mr. Shao. You are the only winner of this game.”

Shao Ye froze for a moment.

Then he remembered. He had participated in Neverland’s project as a volunteer. Everything he experienced at Golden Laburnum had only been part of a game. By successfully graduating, he had won.

He should have been happy—but for some reason, he couldn’t feel it.

Still, he remembered what Xi Guanming had told him: they would meet again soon.

For reasons he couldn’t explain, even if someone told him now that the president had only been an NPC, Shao Ye still trusted him completely. He believed every word Xi Guanming had said would come true.

He quickly adjusted his emotions, sat up in the pod, and asked the staff member, “I’m the only winner?”

“Yes. You’re the only player who successfully graduated from Golden Laburnum,” the staff member replied.

Shao Ye was surprised. Graduating from Golden Laburnum hadn’t seemed that hard to him. The project hadn’t required them to get into top universities either.

“So… did the others’ families go bankrupt?” he asked.

For five families to go bankrupt at once would be impressive… Could it be that Tang Qichuan had secretly pulled some strings for him? If so, that guy wasn’t bad—maybe he deserved a promotion someday.

Staff: “……”

He briefly explained the outcomes of the other volunteers to Shao Ye. Aside from No. 3 and No. 4, who had been eliminated early:

No. 1, the top student, couldn’t stand the learning environment at Golden Laburnum. It was all fighting and chaos, nothing like a proper school. In a fit of anger, he transferred.

No. 2, the “little sun,” was accidentally pushed down the stairs during a student brawl, broke a leg, and took a leave of absence.

No. 5, the rich young lady, openly pursued Jin Feng. Not wanting Jiang Yan to misunderstand, Jin Feng went directly to her father to explain. Her father found it embarrassing and arranged for her to transfer schools.

After listening, Shao Ye asked in confusion, “Why does that school feel like it’s at war every day? Doesn’t the president do anything about it?”

Staff: “……”

Could it be because he interfered too much?

So next, Shao Ye learned from the staff all the things Xi Guanming had done. He suddenly understood. In the end, it was still the president helping him behind the scenes. As for Tang Qichuan, he could go cool off somewhere else.

“Um…” Shao Ye spoke up.

The staff member asked, “Mr. Shao, is there anything else you need?”

Shao Ye asked hesitantly, “What will happen to Golden Laburnum in the future?”

The staff replied, “We’ll temporarily seal the Golden Laburnum scenario and reopen it during the public beta.”

Shao Ye nodded, climbed out of the simulation pod, looked around, and asked if there was a gym nearby.

There was. The staff led him there, and once inside, Shao Ye immediately started an intense workout.

After learning that Shao Ye had awakened, the Supervisory Bureau sent people to check on him. After all, he came from their organization, so they had some responsibility to look after him.

Shao Ye had been lying in the pod for over a month. On the surface, his physique hadn’t changed much, but he felt weaker and was determined to build himself back up. If not for this project, he wouldn’t be in such a rush now. The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. Turning around, he glared at the Supervisory Bureau staff and snapped, “What are you looking at? When His Majesty wakes up, none of you are getting off easy.”

Everyone fell silent.

After the livestream ended, Tang Qichuan personally called the Neverland project team. Not to congratulate them, but to sneer and question whether this was how they stimulated Shao Ye’s hippocampus to help recover his memory. What kind of memory could that possibly recover?

The project team felt wronged. As soon as Xi Guanming and Shao Ye had their first intimate interaction, they had checked all backend data. Everything was normal. Xi Guanming’s self-awareness had simply developed fully. Maybe he just liked muscular men like Shao Ye. What could they do? It wasn’t like they could hide his muscles.

Still, they weren’t the Supervisory Bureau. They were a bit worried that once His Majesty woke up, they’d be in trouble.

Shao Ye’s successful “graduation” pushed Neverland’s popularity to another peak. Discussions exploded everywhere, from serious analysis to shipping to conspiracy theories. If people could imagine it, someone online was already saying it. The traffic they were getting far exceeded expectations.

But the team didn’t have time to celebrate. They were already preparing for the next livestream.

A staff member asked the person in charge, “Should we adjust the data settings for the next session?”

Logically, some adjustments were needed, especially to reduce the chances of volunteers forming romantic relationships with key NPCs. However, after the Golden Laburnum scenario ended, they discovered that His Majesty’s long-dormant consciousness had finally shown signs of activity, likely triggered by certain events in Golden Laburnum.

If they accidentally altered the wrong data and affected His Majesty, that would be disastrous. Unfortunately, due to Xi Guanming’s interference, they couldn’t determine which NPC His Majesty’s consciousness had been projected onto, nor which event had triggered it. So they kept this information confidential.

After careful consideration, the supervisor finally said cautiously, “Increase Q-058’s charm value to the maximum. Don’t change anything else.”

This time, there absolutely wouldn’t be another case of an NPC “falling for someone else.” If everything went smoothly, by the end of the next livestream, they would definitely identify His Majesty’s true identity.

Shao Ye knew nothing about their plans. After each livestream, there was a half-month break. He spent that time training hard, occasionally browsing the network during rest. At one point, he saw people on the forum calling him a “chief eunuch.” He immediately registered an account to correct them, saying it should be “chief palace administrator,” only to be met with a flood of mocking laughter. He was so mad he wanted to jump through the screen and unplug their internet.

Half a month later, Shao Ye reluctantly set down his dumbbells and left the gym. Walking down the corridor, the bright lights cast his shadow onto the smooth, mirror-like floor beneath his feet. Looking at the closed door ahead, he suddenly thought that he might soon see the president again.

His pace quickened.

He jumped into the simulation pod, ready to begin his second livestream.

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