The Young man in Online Romance (8): 

Zhou Qinghao gave Zhou Lin a few words of advice before returning to his own office.

Zhou Lin watched him leave with a deep, shadowed gaze, and when he was gone, he turned angrily toward his own programmers.

He had gone to great lengths to drive Zhou Qinghao away, yet these people were still thinking about him and even taking his side.

The dungeon information leak really was a small matter. He hadn’t planned to use it to harm Zhou Qinghao—his goal was to use it to make the company aware that Zhou Qinghao had feelings for that “Heavenly Emperor.”

That way, when the Heavenly Emperor’s real identity was exposed, Zhou Qinghao would lose all face.

But in the end, it was he himself who lost face.

With a cold expression, Zhou Lin went back to his office and opened the video Heavenly Emperor had posted yesterday.

He rarely played games and wasn’t good at them, but he could still tell that Heavenly Emperor’s gameplay was excellent. The entire monster-fighting process showed no signs of cheating.

Just as the technicians had said, even if that team hadn’t cleared the dungeon the first time, they would certainly have done so the second.

The comments under the video proved this point as well:

“This is supposed to be a guide? This is a damn show-off video!”

“This isn’t a guide—it’s just showing off skills!”

“If I had skills and gear like that, why would I need a guide?”

“I’ve known about Heavenly Emperor for a while, but I didn’t expect his skills to be this good. Is he a pro gamer?”

“He’s not a pro gamer, he’s a rich second generation.”

“I’m trying to learn his moves… nope, I’m failing hard.”

…

Zhou Lin took screenshots of these comments and sent them to Little Lamb. “Didn’t you say he only cleared the dungeon because Zhou Qinghao leaked the information to him?”

He didn’t follow games or read game forums. The reason he believed the leak theory was simply because of what Little Lamb had told him.

When questioned, Little Lamb was stunned.

He had just watched the video himself and hadn’t expected Heavenly Emperor’s gameplay to be this good.

But now wasn’t the time to dwell on that—Little Lamb began coaxing Zhou Lin.

To him, Zhou Lin was the most important person.

Eventually, Zhou Lin was “coaxed” back into a better mood.

This Little Lamb influencer knew a lot about Zhou Qinghao, as well as some things about Zhou Lin’s half-brother Zhou Qi and his three sisters.

Zhou Lin suspected that this person had a relative or friend working close to Zhou Qinghao—possibly even one of his trusted aides.

To get more information about Zhou Qinghao, he could only tolerate this person for now.

Thinking of this, Zhou Lin turned back to the video.

During the dungeon run, Heavenly Emperor had privately messaged Bright Sky several times. None of those private chats were recorded in the video.

But it was clear that whatever Heavenly Emperor said made Bright Sky happy—the two seemed to be flirting.

Zhou Lin went out and told someone to pull up yesterday’s game logs—he wanted to know what Heavenly Emperor and Bright Sky had said.

“Young President Zhou, according to the privacy agreement, while we can log everything players say and do in-game, only the police can access private chat messages.”

Player conversations and actions in-game were definitely recorded, but unless the AI detected something illegal, they couldn’t look at them.

Especially private chats—only law enforcement could view those.

For example, if someone scammed money in-game and the police opened a case, then they could provide the relevant logs.

They also couldn’t casually give out user information—there had to be a legal complaint against the company first.

Heavenly Emperor had spent over ten million in the game and was flagged as a top-tier user. Across all of Cultivation, there were only a handful like him.

Bright Sky’s account had even been personally registered by Zhou Qinghao.

If they were to peek at private chats between the two, what would that even be?

In fact, even if Zhou Qinghao really had given dungeon info to Heavenly Emperor, they wouldn’t see it as a big deal.

A customer like Heavenly Emperor? Giving him a Dragon Scale set for free wouldn’t be an issue at all.

If Heavenly Emperor didn’t log in for a few days, they would even call to check why—though he was basically online every day anyway.

Before Cultivation, Qida Technology had another, far less popular game. Back then, to keep premium customers from leaving, employees had boosted their drop rates, used female avatars to play with them, and done all sorts of things.

Rejected, Zhou Lin grew even more irritable.

Just then, the programmer who had first spoken up for Zhou Qinghao earlier suddenly said, “Young President Zhou, someone found a bug in Cultivation and wants to talk to the person in charge.”

“If there’s a bug, fix it yourselves. Why come to me?” Zhou Lin disliked this person and didn’t even want to entertain him. “Does Qida pay you to sit around doing nothing?”

With that, Zhou Lin walked away.

The programmer he’d snapped at didn’t say anything back, but his temper flared instantly.

He was highly skilled, respected as a legend online. In the company, even Zhou Qinghao treated him with courtesy, and even Chairman Zhou—Zhou Qinghao’s grandfather—knew him and would praise him when they met.

Who did Zhou Lin think he was, daring to give him attitude?

It wasn’t like he had no other job prospects outside Qida!

This programmer’s name was He Jingming.

People with his level of ability often had short tempers, and right now he was fuming.

Even though Zhou Qinghao didn’t understand tech either, he had always been humble, willing to ask questions and actively play games to understand them.

Zhou Lin, in contrast, just handed them a plan and demanded they make it happen, constantly wearing them down without ever trying to understand Cultivation.

Working under a leader like this was suffocating!

As he was thinking this, the person who had somehow gained access to the game’s backend and messaged him about the bug sent another few messages: “I didn’t want to do this either, but I’m short on money. Could you help me contact the person in charge of this game?”

The Cultivation backend wasn’t something just anyone could enter!

This person definitely had real skill—possibly the worthy rival he had been seeking for so long!

If Zhou Lin hadn’t just given him attitude, He Jingming might have praised this person and suggested Zhou Lin talk to him. But now…

He Jingming replied, “Add me so we can talk properly.”

The other party agreed, and soon He Jingming had them added. The username was “Filling the Hole.”

Was he trying to fill a financial hole caused by a failed business or some other accident?

Thinking that, He Jingming started chatting with him—and the more they talked, the more convinced he was that this person had real ability.

He Jingming said, “Brother, you really understand holographic games well. Do you work on them overseas?”

Filling the Hole—who was actually Gu Juntian—didn’t answer.

Taking that as confirmation, He Jingming said, “Cultivation is already stable. What’s the point of patching it up? I’ll introduce you to our boss—he’s working on a new game. If you have ideas, you can talk to him.”

With that, He Jingming directly recommended Filling the Hole to Zhou Qinghao.

After their conversation, he suspected the man was from one of the first companies abroad to develop holographic games.

Maybe something had happened to him, so he was reaching out to a domestic company for extra income.

Recommending him to Zhou Qinghao seemed like a good idea.

At the same time, He Jingming sent a resignation letter to Qida’s president, saying he wanted to quit.

Zhou Qinghao and Zhou Lin were both general managers—the president was someone else, surnamed Wang.

President Wang was older and usually didn’t interfere much, currently waiting for the two to determine a winner, after which the victor would take his place.

He Jingming figured the position would inevitably go to Zhou Qinghao.

That’s why he introduced Filling the Hole to him—he also wanted to work under Zhou Qinghao.

A top talent like He Jingming resigning was enough to alarm even President Wang, who personally came to talk to him.

He Jingming said bluntly that he couldn’t stand Zhou Lin and was determined to quit.

Even when Wang offered him a raise, he wouldn’t budge.

After much persuasion, Wang finally suggested transferring him to Zhou Qinghao’s team. Only then did He reluctantly agree, packed his things, and went to find Zhou Qinghao.

At that time, Zhou Qinghao was chatting with Filling the Hole.

Gu Juntian had looked up information on Qida Technology and learned the president’s surname was Wang, so he said, “President Wang, I’ve always worked in the field of holographic games and have extensive experience. Whether it’s foreign holographic games or your company’s Cultivation, I understand them deeply…”

The original owner’s game knowledge was indeed profound—he wasn’t lying.

Zhou Qinghao realized the other party had mistaken his identity and intended to explain, but was quickly drawn in by the messages the man was sending.

This person seemed to possess technology more advanced than Qida Technology’s own.

Where had He Jingming found such a master?

Zhou Qinghao immediately called in his technical staff and projected the chat with Filling the Hole so everyone could see.

When He Jingming arrived, he was brought into the discussion as well.

The conversation went on until six in the evening.

Filling the Hole said, “I need to rest now. Can we talk again tomorrow?”

“Of course. Have a good rest,” Zhou Qinghao replied.

They were about to finish work for the day, but he and his team would stay overtime to analyze whether what Filling the Hole had given them was real and usable.

If it was, he would pay any price to buy it!

Meanwhile, Gu Juntian was in a very good mood.

President Wang of Qida Technology clearly had a good eye—he would probably be willing to buy his technology.

Hopefully, he could make money soon.