At a completely unexpected moment, the bait game made its grand return.
Viewers in the livestream chat finally remembered—before teaming up with Qingzhou, Chen Bai had been a professional bait master.
【Hahahaha, I’ve been watching Erbai’s streams for so long—finally, I got to witness a full fishing strategy in action!】
【WOC! Baizhou, you two! 】
【Even Qingzhou isn’t immune—when playing with Erbai, everyone eventually becomes bait. (smoke)】
【No wonder this felt familiar! This is how Erbai used to play bait games before!】
【Erbai, how did you convince Qingzhou to be the bait? ()】
Now that the bait game was over, Pink Hair no longer needed to stay silent.
Overcome with the joy of liberation, he finally spoke freely:
“Ugh, I was dying keeping quiet!”
Then, cheerfully—
“Don’t move! Let me help Big Fish sort out his loot.”
“Look at this guy—not very strong, but carrying so much gear… Oh, someone’s coming! Let’s go say hello first.”
He added, “Not everyone is as polite as Chen Erbai.”
The familiar voice echoed in his ears, and Qingzhou instinctively followed along to greet the approaching player.
The result of their “greeting”?
+1 kill.
Compared to their previously silent, ultra-cautious selves, they now looked like a pair of completely different people.
Gaming wasn’t just about mechanical skill—strategy mattered too.
By the time they had reached the quarter-finals, Team Baizhou realized something crucial—
If they kept playing aggressively, they would definitely be targeted in the finals.
So, they made a tactical shift.
They deliberately created a conservative playstyle persona—making their gameplay appear safe and defensive, while secretly spreading out enemy firepower.
Since other teams likely analyzed past matches, any unnecessary chatter could expose their real intentions.
So, the two of them chose to speak as little as possible, keeping their communications brief and vague.
It felt odd, but the plan worked flawlessly.
This strategy completely misled their enemies.
Even the second-place team, who had just been eliminated in the woods, never expected—
That the bait in the game would actually be the sniper.
And that the “defensive” player with a broken sniper rifle would be the one setting the trap.
Their lack of in-game conversation didn’t mean a lack of coordination—
In reality, their teamwork was incredibly polished, something only achievable after many practice sessions in private.
Finally, netizens pieced it together.
The day after the semi-finals, Chen Bai had been missing from his livestream.
People assumed he was sulking in a corner somewhere.
But in reality?
He was probably practicing bait games with Qingzhou in duo matches.
【What an evil psychological trick! I never expected you two to be like this! (bushi)】
【Hahaha, I was wondering why Erbai—who loves money so much—would just throw away his prize money. Turns out, he wouldn’t!】
【Even your fans weren’t safe from deception! Cold-blooded!】
【Erbai has mastered psychological warfare beyond saving. But Qingzhou—you, with your serious face, playing mind games too?!】
【Qingzhou has been completely corrupted by Erbai. You two are a perfect match. (sighing cat emoji)】
With the second-place team eliminated, the third-place team surged forward, racking up kills and gaining points rapidly.
But then…
They ran into Team Baizhou.
A quiet, simple greeting later—
The third team’s run was over.
By the time the final circle arrived, almost everyone else had been eliminated.
Decked out in fully looted gear, Team Baizhou dominated the battlefield—collecting kills left and right.
The last remaining enemy had taken cover inside a building.
But with a well-placed grenade—
BOOM.
Game over.
Team Baizhou—CHAMPIONS!
They had secured first place with an absolute landslide victory.
The livestream chat—previously silent from tension—exploded into chaos.
As soon as the chat reopened, the screen filled with colorful reward notifications, creating a blinding, dazzling mess.
Chen Bai, ever the dedicated money-lover, immediately paused the game, pulled up the chat, and began thanking viewers seriously for their gifts.
Meanwhile, the official livestream had so much traffic that it started lagging.
Messages froze—then suddenly rushed forward in a chaotic blur, making it impossible to read anything.
Chen Bai leaned toward his screen, squinting to decipher the messages, but eventually gave up.
He sighed, sat back, and replied to the last few readable comments.
“Tonight’s stream is getting delayed—I need to eat first.”
Then, with exaggerated pain—
“…I have to split the prize money with Qingzhou. My friend, this hurts more than losing a match.”
The rewards kept coming in, but with the stream completely frozen, he could no longer see who was sending them or what was being said.
After an entire day of typing, his wrists were aching.
So, he shut down the stream without hesitation.
As soon as he removed his headphones, the room fell into complete silence.
His ears instantly felt more comfortable.
7:30 PM.
He had completely missed dinner time.
Most of the nearby restaurants had already closed.
Even worse—
The buns he had planned for dinner?
Already eaten at noon.
Now, he had two choices:
- Spend money at a fast-food restaurant.
- Cook for himself.
Between saving money and spending money—
Pink Hair chose to save money.
Grabbing his coat, he picked up the two apartment keys from the entrance and headed out.
At this hour, the only option for groceries was the supermarket.
Pushing a shopping cart, he started picking out bok choy for dinner.
Just then, his phone buzzed twice.
He checked the screen—
A message from Qingzhou, his duo partner and co-champion.
“Got time to play tonight?”
As the long-time leader of the platform, Qingzhou had insider news—
The platform’s tech team was running emergency maintenance, but the livestream should be back up later tonight.
Chen Bai flexed his wrist, testing the soreness.
It felt fine after some rest.
He replied, “Should be good.”
As he headed to checkout, something caught his eye—
Low-gluten flour. On sale.
Perfect for baking.
He added a bag of flour to his cart.
Walking back to his apartment, he instinctively snapped a photo of the flour, intending to send it to his good neighbor.
But when he opened their chat, he realized—
The last message between them had been sent a long time ago.
Although he had told Xu Sinian to send more messages, they had both been busy.
And before he knew it, the person he talked to the most had become Qingzhou.
Even his trash talk—which he would have normally shared with Xu Sinian—was now being sent to Qingzhou instead.
Standing in front of the house, Chen Bai lowered his head, pulling out two keys.
He glanced at the two doors, hesitated for a second, then took out his phone and sent a message.
After that, he opened the next door.
Meanwhile, across the city—
The film set had shifted from quiet to bustling.
Xu Sinian had just finished filming.
As he took the towel from his assistant, he wiped the sweat from his neck, the movement revealing the tense veins in his arms.
The assistant reminded him, “Teacher Xu, your phone rang twice just now.”
Xu Sinian sat down, bent over, and picked up his phone.
There were two new messages, received ten minutes ago.
He glanced at them, then replied quickly.
“Teacher Xu, Director Chen wants to discuss something with you.”
Just as Xu Sinian sent his reply, the stage manager walked over and called him.
He put down his phone, then turned to his assistant and said, “Let me know if there’s any news.”
After a pause, he checked the time and added, “No rush.”
The other party was probably playing games right now—he wouldn’t reply during a match anyway.
The assistant hesitated, confused by the remark, but nodded in agreement.
Xu Sinian stood up and left.
During break time, the director rarely interrupted actors unless it was something important.
Since he specifically requested a discussion, there must be a serious issue to address.
The director, reviewing exported footage, had some concerns—
A lighting issue in a scene.
Technically, the shot was usable, but he believed it could be improved.
Since today’s filming was already running late, reshooting meant more overtime.
Xu Sinian simply responded, “Okay.”
The director nodded, then added, “There’s one more thing…”
And just like that, his short break ended.
After finishing his conversation with the director, Xu Sinian handed his towel to his assistant and returned to filming.
An hour later, it was break time again.
The moment they called “cut”, the stylist and makeup artist rushed in, surrounding him.
From outside the gathering crowd, the assistant struggled to push through, holding out the phone.
“Teacher Xu, there’s news.”
His movements were comically difficult, but Xu Sinian still thanked him and took the phone.
“…”
Those nearby watched closely—
The man who had maintained a cold, unreadable expression all day suddenly paused, his eyes flickering with something unreadable.
Then, he looked up and said, “I’ll be back soon.”
Without another word, he turned and walked away.
With his long strides, he covered a surprising distance in seconds—
And was soon headed straight for the set’s entrance.
Watching him disappear into the night, the crew members whispered among themselves.
“What happened?”
The assistant, completely lost, replied, “No idea. I’m just the phone courier.”
I may not know the reason…
But we can always investigate.
A group of people stealthily moved forward, hoping to catch a glimpse—
Only to realize—
He was already gone.
The set was located near an industrial park, still in early development.
At this hour, the streets were nearly empty.
Xu Sinian stepped outside the gate—
And at first glance, he saw no one.
But then, voices caught his attention.
He turned his head—
And saw a familiar pink-haired figure, poking his head out from behind a group of security guards.
The man who was supposed to be gaming halfway across the city had somehow appeared here instead.
When Chen Bai saw him, he waved cheerfully and hurried down the stairs in two or three quick steps.
It was the same way he had come down the overpass that day.
As soon as he reached the bottom, Xu Sinian instinctively reached out to steady him.
“How long have you been waiting?”
Chen Bai grinned.
“Not long. You guys are easy to find.”
Then, with a bright smile, he raised a small box in his hands.
“I brought you a perfect little cake.”
Xu Sinian lowered his gaze, then accepted the box.
“Weren’t you playing games tonight?”
Chen Bai shrugged.
“Wanted to give you some freshly baked cake.”
Then, without hesitation—
“You’re more important.”
Lowering his head, he fumbled with the sealed box while Xu Sinian helped him open it.
Looking up, he flashed another playful grin.
“So, I pushed it off.”
His clear voice carried a natural, matter-of-fact warmth.
Under the soft glow of the streetlamp, his light gray eyes sparkled beneath pink hair—
And the smile in them was absolutely dazzling.
For a moment, even the evening breeze fell silent.