【This Match Has Ended】

【Competition Winner: 【Yunjianyue】 – Won Without Trying】

【Total Damage Dealt: 0 (Believe it or not, 0) 

Physical/Magic Attacks: 0

True Damage: 0 

Highest Single Hit: 0】

【Summoned Player Rating: Little Prince】

【Highly Rated Comments from Audience Members: “Victory Without a Fight,” “Kitty’s Scraping Therapy,” “Truly Beautiful”】 

Actually, at first, the top-rated keywords for this book about Tang Mian were pretty harsh—things like “useless,” “fragile,” and “trash.” But after Tang Mian took off his hood, those comments turned into more refined terms. 

Though they’re still not very flattering.

Midway through its announcement, the system glanced at Tang Mian’s tear-streaked face. Seeing no new tear streaks, it continued: 

【Overall Rating: F】

【Reward Settlement: 500 exchange value points】

【Current Rank】: Bronze

……

【Play Again】 

【Return Home】 

【Share Results】 

Tang Mian thought for a moment and selected 【Share Results】

System Reminder:【Are you sure you want to share this to your card log? Sharing match results is not required】

Dealing 0 damage is a complete disgrace for a battle card. Sharing a result like this will make it a total black mark.

Tang Mian nodded: “Although I didn’t do very well this time, it’s not as if only perfection is worth recording.” 

“My first time in the arena was a very memorable event. I’m taking it one step at a time!”

Tang Mian took a deep breath, switched his all-in-one card to photo mode, and got ready to strike an energetic pose—and then he saw…

“Why didn’t anyone tell me I had dust on my face!” 

In the frame, the beautiful N card, his face covered in dust, stared wide-eyed in disbelief.

System: 【That’s just how battles go】

It watched as Tang Mian quickly wiped his face with the relatively clean back of his hand, but there was just too much dust to wipe off in an instant; instead, he ended up wiping away those tear streaks completely.

Transformed from a little tabby cat into a slightly more evenly soiled mess, Tang Mian flashed a bright smile at the camera. He thought for a moment, added the photo he’d sent to the Battle Angel before leaving, and then edited the post: 

【I’m back from the fight (Pic 1) (Pic 2)】

【Card Space is coming back… 】

【Scanning Card Status… Current HP: 8… Do you want to spend 2 exchange values to restore to full health?

No: Spend 1 exchange…to restore to a dust-free, pristine state…………….. 】

【…】

Tang Mian returned to the card space with his small knapsack.

The Agility Talisman with an exchange value of 2,000 points came in handy; the Bloodthirsty Dagger with an exchange value of 1,500 points failed to break through his opponent’s defense; and the heart-shaped bento box he’d made with his own hands was blocked by an invisible protective shield, so he couldn’t deliver it. 

With his bright smile now faded, Tang Mian crouched alone in a corner of the card space, scrolling through the comments on his card log. He was already slender, and curled up in the corner, he looked even smaller.

With his long, curled eyelashes slightly lowered, Tang Mian watched the comments pouring in on the card log. Many of them were likely from players who had watched his arena match and then rushed over:

【So this is what Baby looks like without a smudged face—so cute! Even with a smudged face, he’s still cute!】

【This card is totally useless. Combat value 1—whoever draws it is just unlucky. By the way, has anyone been kind enough to capture a nice screenshot of him taking off his hat? Need it.】 

【Holy cow, this is the worst-stats card I’ve ever seen. How come it’s still getting so much attention? Aren’t you guys afraid it’ll drag down your win rate if you end up drawing it? I suggest you all unfollow him.】 (The player who posted this comment is following you) 

“Ding-dong~”

Battle Angel: “Baby, aren’t you leaving the arena?”

Tang Mian: “…Sorry, I’m feeling a little melancholic right now, so I might not be in the mood to chat.”

……

The moment the keyword “melancholy” appeared, the halo above Battle Angel’s head trembled.

That tremor felt just like when he saw that single tear fall from Tang Mian’s eye on the big screen.

Battle Cards have always adhered to the principle of “bleed and sweat, but never shed tears,” but the Battle Angel believed that Cards do not shed tears lightly—only when they are truly heartbroken. 

His Muse Baby wasn’t weak; his seduction abilities were even stronger than those of an SR Succubus.

When the Battle Angel saw the Baby appear in the arena, he asked himself: If one day he were to face Tang Mian in the arena, could he do better than that foolish R card?

—Of course, he would never let Baby shed a tear, nor would he dare to touch Baby’s hand with his filthy hands.

But when it came to resisting Baby’s charm, would he be able to?

The Battle Angel, ever vigilant, set a photo of Baby winking as his desktop wallpaper, determined to look at it every day to build up his resistance as soon as possible.

Unfortunately, charm—that elusive and mysterious quality—wasn’t included in the combat value assessment, so based solely on stats and card level, his Baby was severely underestimated. 

But why should his little Muse have to bear the burden of the flaws in this evaluation system and the faults of this world? He uses his own weaknesses to challenge his opponents’ strengths—all for the sake of self-challenge and self-improvement. This is a truly admirable act. Just look at how many battle cards focus solely on boosting their combat value while neglecting their artistic cultivation, image management, and poise. 

Winning a battle only to become aesthetically illiterate—is that really worth it? 

Yet his Muse Baby—such a graceful, well-mannered, and considerate little one who never abuses her beauty to harm others—is forced to accept rules akin to those of a gladiatorial arena.

He thought to himself, “Baby, I understand your melancholy.” 

When the Battle Angel is melancholy, he doesn’t feel like speaking either; more often than not, he prefers to pour his heart out to his instrument.

All that unspoken sorrow and melancholy are transformed into beautiful, melodious tunes. At moments like these, he doesn’t need to think about anything—he simply lets the notes fill the empty music room. 

It didn’t matter if he played a wrong note—after all, none of the cards in the light deck could understand him anyway.

Battle Angel: “I understand. Baby, would you like to hear a pipe organ right now? Or a piano, a violin, a recorder, or a guitar? Which one do you want to hear? I can play any of them for you.”

Tang Mian: “I don’t really feel like listening.” 

Battle Angel—sometimes, he preferred reading to playing music.

In the attic, he flipped through the yellowed pages of a book, reading about people from a century ago who had experienced loneliness and sorrow similar to his own. Then he carefully copied down the golden quotes, saving them for future use as copy for his card log.

Battle Angel: “I get it. Sweetie, do you want to see the collection of beautiful phrases and lines I’ve gathered over the years?” 

Battle Angel: “The colorless blood in my pupils, your eyes. The Xiao Xiang River I swim through. Out-of-focus tears made of ten thousand drops of bitter water. *I’ve got even more gems to share.”

Tang Mian: “I’d rather not.”

Battle Angel regretfully put away his notebook of excerpts and instead pulled out his photography collection. 

Many of the works here were emotional creations born from his melancholy—water streaks sliding down glass, withered autumn leaves, desolate wilderness devoid of people…

Many of these works had been adjusted to shades of black, white, and gray, while others had been processed to give them a vintage film texture. Vividly colored photos were few and far between—the rare exceptions included photos of Tang Mian winking, performing a cat stretch, and setting off with a small dagger in hand and a talisman pressed to his forehead.

Next up are photos he took on a large screen: Tang Mian shedding tears while draped in a cloak; Tang Mian removing his hood, his tear-filled eyes still smiling; and Tang Mian reaching out to touch a transparent box…

He plans to turn these photos into higher-end products, such as those featuring aluminum foil, cotton prints, refractive effects, thermochromic finishes, fabric textures, gold card, hot stamping, photolithographic paper, mother-of-pearl gold, and more. 

Of course, he won’t be sharing these with my little one just yet.

Battle Angel: “Okay, so, sweetie, would you like to see some of my photography from over the years?”

Tang Mian:“…” Is this ever going to end? 

Battle Angel: “I get it. You don’t really want to see them, do you, sweetie?”

A deep sense of frustration welled up inside him, and the Battle Angel grew melancholy. The thought of that crystal-clear tear sliding down his face, now covered in soot and grime—and knowing that he couldn’t catch it, neither then nor now—made his heart feel as if it were being torn apart. 

What else could he do?

Battle Angel sat in the SSR-exclusive VIP lounge. On the large screen in front of him, the text scrolled: “Shocking Upset! Miraculous Comeback! Congratulations on earning 500,000 exchange value!”

During the betting phase at the start of the match, Battle Angel had placed the maximum bet for a bronze tier match: 500 exchange values. As soon as the match ended, 500,000 exchange values were credited to his account.

Now, looking at the flashy celebration page on the big screen, Battle Angel just found it annoying.

Battle Angel: “Baby, I know the 500,000 exchange value won’t ease your sorrow, but could you give me your card number first?” 

Tang Mian:“… What?”

The Battle Angel said wistfully, “Today I bet that Baby would win, and sure enough, BaoBao won the match. After the competition ended, 500,000 was credited to my account. Ever since before I placed the bet, I’d planned to transfer this money to Baby. I’m sorry to bother you with such a trivial matter when Baby is feeling so down.” 

Tang Mian, who had been crouched in the corner drawing circles, suddenly stood up with a serious expression and sent a message solemnly: “Dear Archangel, thank you for your comfort all this time. I suddenly feel so much better.” 

Tang Mian: “May I ask if you could chat with me some more about your music, poetry, and photography collection?” 

Tang Mian: “I wonder if anyone has ever said this to you: ‘You’re so special—you’re unlike anyone I’ve ever met. Whenever I see you, I always feel a unique sense of detachment and an atmosphere of loneliness, as if you are the one who truly understands the essence of loneliness. I can sense your longing—to experience some adventure, some excitement, something elusive, and even some pain.*’”

Tang Mian: “The moment I saw you, I felt like these words were literally written just for you.” 

Tang Mian: “Oh, right, my card number is ……”