Chapter 63: Oh, by the way, Wujiu was too tired last night and is still sleeping. I will tell him when he wakes up.
Shen Ti always thought of himself as someone who couldn’t be easily shaken.
Until An Wujiu sat in front of him, with an expression attempting to save him, asking him to live for him.
Shen Ti was unsure whether An Wujiu’s actions stemmed from kindness or an overflow of empathy. He regretted showing his desire to leave this world in front of him.
If he hadn’t done that, perhaps he could understand An Wujiu’s heart now.
“An Wujiu, you’re really a kind person.”
Shen Ti reached out with both hands and playfully pulled An Wujiu’s cheeks, clearly trying to skip over this topic.
“Don’t tease me.” But An Wujiu didn’t give him the chance to skip over it and firmly held Shen Ti’s wrists, pulling them down.
“Give me a straight answer.”
He struggled to say such words, not letting Shen Ti escape.
Those deep black pupils seemed unwavering, without any evasion.
Shen Ti had to concede, smiling. “Okay.”
“I’ll try my best.”
Even in a seemingly meaningless life, there should be certain crucial moments, like footnotes in an exceedingly boring book, always with a couple of annotations.
Shen Ti thought that the moment he met An Wujiu could be a small annotation.
The annotation’s definition would read: Learn to part ways with him quickly.
“Just agreeing is not enough,” An Wujiu said with a faint smile. “Your words have no credibility.”
“What should I do then?” Shen Ti sat cross-legged, supporting his chin with one hand. “Give you an IOU? Pledge my life on it?”
An Wujiu thought the suggestion was good. “Sure.”
After saying that, he opened a digital notepad, looking serious. “Write it down.”
Shen Ti had no choice but to comply. He thought for a moment and wrote a passage.
[I promise to make a sincere effort to clear the level at An Wujiu’s request, not seeking a dead end. In case of violation…]
“What if I violate it? I’ll be gone.” Shen Ti looked up at An Wujiu with his green eyes, appearing quite lost.
Yes.
An Wujiu blinked slowly.
Shen Ti thought of something on his own, “Then be punished by the gods after death, stuck in a cycle of the pain from my past life.”
“That’s too heavy,” An Wujiu said.
“Well, I don’t believe in gods anyway.” Shen Ti openly admitted his cheating mentality.
With the IOU already written, he signed his name below. “I only believe in myself.”
After finishing the IOU, Shen Ti extended his pinky finger to An Wujiu and said, “Let’s make a pinky promise, little angel.”
An Wujiu stared at his pinky finger, involuntarily extending his own and hooking them together.
Actually, this gesture didn’t serve any real purpose; it was even less binding than a solemn vow.
But in that moment of entwined fingers, his heart undeniably stirred.
The digital notepad was retrieved, and An Wujiu looked at the handwriting, finding it surprisingly similar to his own.
“Why are you called Shen Ti?” An Wujiu asked, tracing his name with his fingertip beside Shen Ti’s signature.
Sure enough, the strokes did seem somewhat similar.
An Wujiu added, “You don’t look very Chinese.”
While Shen Ti did possess an Eastern aura and charm, his eyes and bone structure didn’t quite match.
“The person who named me liked the character ‘Ti,'” Shen Ti explained simply, as the memory was vague due to the passage of time.
An Wujiu didn’t press for details on who gave him the name and just stared at the notepad and said, “I like it too.”
Suddenly, some previously nonexistent images flashed in his mind, as if recovering lost memories.
For the first time, An Wujiu saw his father, whose image had long been blurry in his memory. Though his face remained unclear, he was there beside his younger self, holding his hand, teaching him to write the character “Ti” with an old pen.
[Always remember to stay vigilant, no matter when. Humans can never avoid making mistakes, but with a vigilant heart, one can turn danger into safety.]
These were the guidance and teachings of his father.
An Wujiu furrowed his brow; he didn’t know the authenticity of this memory. If it were true, he and Shen Ti had too many similarities.
Just then, a knock sounded at the door.
“Aren’t you hungry? I ordered some food.” Shen Ti got up to open the door, and the receptionist brought a tray of food for them. Seeing that An Wujiu had changed into a robe while Shen Ti remained neat and tidy, she teased, “Handsome guy, your efficiency isn’t that great.”
Leaning lazily against the door frame, Shen Ti took the food with a smile. “Physical work, you gotta eat to gather some strength.”
After closing the door and locking it, he handed the food to An Wujiu. “I ordered it while you were showering. I didn’t know what you liked, so just eat whatever.”
An Wujiu saw rice and soup, expressing satisfaction. “I really love these.”
Shen Ti felt that An Wujiu’s kindness was not only his vulnerability but also a kind of weapon.
Especially for someone like him, it seemed to be an unbeatable advantage.
They skipped the process of eating in the game, at most nibbling on some bread. Now, having a hot meal in reality felt like a connection across worlds.
An Wujiu ate slowly and quietly, observing. Shen Ti seemed not to enjoy eating much; he only liked sweets and had a strong sweet tooth. An Wujiu didn’t urge him to eat; he planned to buy some candy nearby before they left.
After eating hastily, An Wujiu laid down. The wrist wound hadn’t completely healed and occasionally throbbed with dull pain.
By the time Shen Ti came out of the shower, An Wujiu had already fallen asleep. He curled up with his back arched in an insecure position, placing his injured right hand in front of his chest, resembling a child.
“You complain about being cold, yet you don’t cover yourself properly.” Shen Ti tossed the towel he used to dry his hair onto the bedside table. He bent down to pull the blanket over An Wujiu, then carefully climbed into bed. Afraid of waking An Wujiu, he forgot that the mattress was filled with water. The moment he lay down, the water’s balance was disrupted.
Shen Ti’s position sank, causing An Wujiu to roll directly next to him, tightly snuggling against his chest.
Facing each other, they unintentionally turned into a hugging position on this waterbed.
But An Wujiu didn’t wake up; he was too tired. So Shen Ti dared not make any sudden movements and could only lie stiffly on his side.
He could clearly smell the lingering fragrance of shampoo in An Wujiu’s hair. Even though it was a cheap fruit-scented shampoo, it inexplicably became much more pleasant on him.
When An Wujiu was sound asleep, he would instinctively curl up, resembling a wounded small animal rather than the reliable young man attempting to unravel everything and protect everyone. He instinctively sought warmth, almost burying himself in Shen Ti’s embrace.
Are you very cold?
Shen Ti quietly asked in his mind.
An Wujiu, in his dream, diligently absorbed warmth and a sense of security, providing an answer. So when An Wujiu made a second attempt to bury his face in the crook of Shen Ti’s neck, Shen Ti extended his arms, adjusted their positions, and embraced An Wujiu properly.
“It’s what you wanted.”
Shen Ti spoke to An Wujiu, who couldn’t hear but was actually convincing himself.
But they fit together perfectly, like two pieces of finely crafted jade that were meant to be together.
Shen Ti was not an easy sleeper. He believed he didn’t need sleep, and his mind was often overwhelmed with complex thoughts, making it impossible to close his eyes.
However, on this night, listening to An Wujiu’s rhythmic breathing, he quickly fell asleep.
He had a very strange dream. In the dream, An Wujiu entered a temple and, without warning, smashed the ancient gods enshrined within. In the end, everything was burned to ashes by a sudden fire.
However, Shen Ti had no idea where his dream self was. He attempted to search inside and outside the raging flames but woke up before finding anything.
He was awakened by a dripping sound, but it didn’t come from his game panel or any other communication device; it came from the person beside him.
Shen Ti, suppressing his sleepiness, opened his eyes, surprised to find that An Wujiu hadn’t even set basic screen lock settings, and messages were directly projected.
It was from Zhong Yirou.
[Wujiu, I forgot to give you the full-body scan results from last time. The results are strange; 45% of your skeleton seems to have been replaced with metal. According to my knowledge, not many research institutions currently possess such technology.
When I saw your exposed wrist bone for the first time, I noticed that the numbering and codes on this metal skeleton seem to be related to the Sha Wen Company. I showed the scan results to Erci last night, and she seems to know something but is not entirely sure. She may only explain it clearly if you come in person. I spent the entire night trying to get answers for you.]
Shen Ti, in a passive state, read through the entire message, perhaps suspecting the mysteries of An Wujiu’s body, so he wasn’t entirely surprised. His initial reaction was unexpectedly mischievous.
So, he sent a voice message.
“Was all you did the whole night just questioning her?”
After sending it and feeling a sense of satisfaction, Shen Ti escalated the playfulness. Deliberately suppressing his voice to sound husky, he recorded another sentence with a rather provocative tone.
“Oh, by the way, Wujiu was too tired last night; he’s still asleep. I’ll pass on your message when he wakes up.”
Not long after, he received a series of question marks from Zhong Yirou that could circle the Earth.
With a sense of achievement, Shen Ti’s drowsiness vanished.
An Wujiu was still sleeping in his arms, his long hair scattered behind him. The white sunlight penetrated the glass window like a soft knife, illuminating his face. Even the tiny hairs on his face were exceptionally clear.
It was only at this moment that Shen Ti was willing to believe that An Wujiu wasn’t a perfectly manufactured machine but an adorable human being.
His bathrobe had loosened during sleep, exposing most of his chest. Intricate patterns formed by the intertwining black lines rose and fell with his breath, appearing vivid and lively.
At some point, a wicked thought crossed Shen Ti’s mind. He acknowledged he wasn’t a good person and had mundane desires, but he wouldn’t take advantage of someone vulnerable, especially not the person who tried to save him the previous night.
So, he pulled his hand away, intending to re-tie An Wujiu’s bathrobe. However, just as he closed the robe and put his fingers on the belt, coincidentally, An Wujiu woke up.
Those slender, snow-white hands grabbed his.
“Early in the morning… What are you trying to do?”
The lazy tone immediately signaled the change in An Wujiu. Indeed, when Shen Ti looked up, he met An Wujiu’s raised eyebrows and teasing eyes.
Now, claiming that he was helping Shen Ti put on clothes, only An Wujiu in an extreme state of kindness would believe such a statement.
But unfortunately, he had changed.
Shen Ti thought about explaining, but in the next moment, An Wujiu flipped him over and pinned him down. The bathrobe he had just tied slipped off one shoulder, the other covered by his long hair, creating an illusion.
“Did you sleep well last night?” An Wujiu’s bent knuckles slowly grazed Shen Ti’s prominent nose. The other hand, however, gripped his neck, a blend of flirting and threat.
“What do you want to do?” Shen Ti retorted, throwing An Wujiu’s earlier words back at him.
An Wujiu almost pressed his forehead against Shen Ti’s. “You signed a contract selling yourself to me. Doesn’t that mean I can do whatever I want?”
“You didn’t say it like that.” At this point, Shen Ti seemed quite interested in explaining the IOU he had signed, as if genuinely uninterested.
“It’s not a contract selling yourself; it’s me keeping this life for you. As for how I use this life, it’s my business.”
An Wujiu leaned close to his ear and softly called his name.
“Shen Ti.”
“Are you dissatisfied with me like this? Or do you prefer someone a bit more innocent?” An Wujiu’s tone carried a playful edge. “I can pretend.”
Shen Ti struggled between two emotions.
But deep down, he understood that An Wujiu in this state was just playing around for the sake of amusement, wanting to see him lose control and gain a perverse sense of satisfaction.
Perhaps out of reluctance, Shen Ti felt a bit disgruntled and had a strange sense of defiance.
He crossed his arms behind his head, deliberately avoiding any contact with An Wujiu.
“You’ll regret it when you change back,” Shen Ti said.
An Wujiu laughed, “If you missed such a good opportunity, and you’ll also regre…” Suddenly, An Wujiu frowned. His words were cut off, and his tongue seemed to tremble. The sudden headache made his temples throb violently.
Then he abruptly changed back.
What was he doing just now?
An Wujiu, who had gotten used to his strange condition of jumping between extremes, found it unbearable when facing Shen Ti.
His face displayed confusion and a regret that couldn’t be concealed. In the moment of realization, he awkwardly and quickly moved away from Shen Ti, fixing his disheveled bathrobe.
Shen Ti, being highly perceptive, noticed that he had returned to normal. Almost instinctively, he grabbed his arm, pulling him back.
The roles were reversed in an instant.
“Weren’t you quite impressive just now?”
He now held the upper hand.
“Just now, I…” An Wujiu tried to explain that those thoughts weren’t his own, but it also contained an element of lying, so he stopped.
Shen Ti had just said that he would regret it, and now he really, really regretted it.
But then Shen Ti asked with a smile, “I regret it now; is there still a chance to change it?”
Chapter 63: Oh, by the way, Wujiu was too tired last night and is still sleeping. I will tell him when he wakes up.
Shen Ti always thought of himself as someone who couldn’t be easily shaken.
Until An Wujiu sat in front of him, with an expression attempting to save him, asking him to live for him.
Shen Ti was unsure whether An Wujiu’s actions stemmed from kindness or an overflow of empathy. He regretted showing his desire to leave this world in front of him.
If he hadn’t done that, perhaps he could understand An Wujiu’s heart now.
“An Wujiu, you’re really a kind person.”
Shen Ti reached out with both hands and playfully pulled An Wujiu’s cheeks, clearly trying to skip over this topic.
“Don’t tease me.” But An Wujiu didn’t give him the chance to skip over it and firmly held Shen Ti’s wrists, pulling them down.
“Give me a straight answer.”
He struggled to say such words, not letting Shen Ti escape.
Those deep black pupils seemed unwavering, without any evasion.
Shen Ti had to concede, smiling. “Okay.”
“I’ll try my best.”
Even in a seemingly meaningless life, there should be certain crucial moments, like footnotes in an exceedingly boring book, always with a couple of annotations.
Shen Ti thought that the moment he met An Wujiu could be a small annotation.
The annotation’s definition would read: Learn to part ways with him quickly.
“Just agreeing is not enough,” An Wujiu said with a faint smile. “Your words have no credibility.”
“What should I do then?” Shen Ti sat cross-legged, supporting his chin with one hand. “Give you an IOU? Pledge my life on it?”
An Wujiu thought the suggestion was good. “Sure.”
After saying that, he opened a digital notepad, looking serious. “Write it down.”
Shen Ti had no choice but to comply. He thought for a moment and wrote a passage.
[I promise to make a sincere effort to clear the level at An Wujiu’s request, not seeking a dead end. In case of violation…]
“What if I violate it? I’ll be gone.” Shen Ti looked up at An Wujiu with his green eyes, appearing quite lost.
Yes.
An Wujiu blinked slowly.
Shen Ti thought of something on his own, “Then be punished by the gods after death, stuck in a cycle of the pain from my past life.”
“That’s too heavy,” An Wujiu said.
“Well, I don’t believe in gods anyway.” Shen Ti openly admitted his cheating mentality.
With the IOU already written, he signed his name below. “I only believe in myself.”
After finishing the IOU, Shen Ti extended his pinky finger to An Wujiu and said, “Let’s make a pinky promise, little angel.”
An Wujiu stared at his pinky finger, involuntarily extending his own and hooking them together.
Actually, this gesture didn’t serve any real purpose; it was even less binding than a solemn vow.
But in that moment of entwined fingers, his heart undeniably stirred.
The digital notepad was retrieved, and An Wujiu looked at the handwriting, finding it surprisingly similar to his own.
“Why are you called Shen Ti?” An Wujiu asked, tracing his name with his fingertip beside Shen Ti’s signature.
Sure enough, the strokes did seem somewhat similar.
An Wujiu added, “You don’t look very Chinese.”
While Shen Ti did possess an Eastern aura and charm, his eyes and bone structure didn’t quite match.
“The person who named me liked the character ‘Ti,'” Shen Ti explained simply, as the memory was vague due to the passage of time.
An Wujiu didn’t press for details on who gave him the name and just stared at the notepad and said, “I like it too.”
Suddenly, some previously nonexistent images flashed in his mind, as if recovering lost memories.
For the first time, An Wujiu saw his father, whose image had long been blurry in his memory. Though his face remained unclear, he was there beside his younger self, holding his hand, teaching him to write the character “Ti” with an old pen.
[Always remember to stay vigilant, no matter when. Humans can never avoid making mistakes, but with a vigilant heart, one can turn danger into safety.]
These were the guidance and teachings of his father.
An Wujiu furrowed his brow; he didn’t know the authenticity of this memory. If it were true, he and Shen Ti had too many similarities.
Just then, a knock sounded at the door.
“Aren’t you hungry? I ordered some food.” Shen Ti got up to open the door, and the receptionist brought a tray of food for them. Seeing that An Wujiu had changed into a robe while Shen Ti remained neat and tidy, she teased, “Handsome guy, your efficiency isn’t that great.”
Leaning lazily against the door frame, Shen Ti took the food with a smile. “Physical work, you gotta eat to gather some strength.”
After closing the door and locking it, he handed the food to An Wujiu. “I ordered it while you were showering. I didn’t know what you liked, so just eat whatever.”
An Wujiu saw rice and soup, expressing satisfaction. “I really love these.”
Shen Ti felt that An Wujiu’s kindness was not only his vulnerability but also a kind of weapon.
Especially for someone like him, it seemed to be an unbeatable advantage.
They skipped the process of eating in the game, at most nibbling on some bread. Now, having a hot meal in reality felt like a connection across worlds.
An Wujiu ate slowly and quietly, observing. Shen Ti seemed not to enjoy eating much; he only liked sweets and had a strong sweet tooth. An Wujiu didn’t urge him to eat; he planned to buy some candy nearby before they left.
After eating hastily, An Wujiu laid down. The wrist wound hadn’t completely healed and occasionally throbbed with dull pain.
By the time Shen Ti came out of the shower, An Wujiu had already fallen asleep. He curled up with his back arched in an insecure position, placing his injured right hand in front of his chest, resembling a child.
“You complain about being cold, yet you don’t cover yourself properly.” Shen Ti tossed the towel he used to dry his hair onto the bedside table. He bent down to pull the blanket over An Wujiu, then carefully climbed into bed. Afraid of waking An Wujiu, he forgot that the mattress was filled with water. The moment he lay down, the water’s balance was disrupted.
Shen Ti’s position sank, causing An Wujiu to roll directly next to him, tightly snuggling against his chest.
Facing each other, they unintentionally turned into a hugging position on this waterbed.
But An Wujiu didn’t wake up; he was too tired. So Shen Ti dared not make any sudden movements and could only lie stiffly on his side.
He could clearly smell the lingering fragrance of shampoo in An Wujiu’s hair. Even though it was a cheap fruit-scented shampoo, it inexplicably became much more pleasant on him.
When An Wujiu was sound asleep, he would instinctively curl up, resembling a wounded small animal rather than the reliable young man attempting to unravel everything and protect everyone. He instinctively sought warmth, almost burying himself in Shen Ti’s embrace.
Are you very cold?
Shen Ti quietly asked in his mind.
An Wujiu, in his dream, diligently absorbed warmth and a sense of security, providing an answer. So when An Wujiu made a second attempt to bury his face in the crook of Shen Ti’s neck, Shen Ti extended his arms, adjusted their positions, and embraced An Wujiu properly.
“It’s what you wanted.”
Shen Ti spoke to An Wujiu, who couldn’t hear but was actually convincing himself.
But they fit together perfectly, like two pieces of finely crafted jade that were meant to be together.
Shen Ti was not an easy sleeper. He believed he didn’t need sleep, and his mind was often overwhelmed with complex thoughts, making it impossible to close his eyes.
However, on this night, listening to An Wujiu’s rhythmic breathing, he quickly fell asleep.
He had a very strange dream. In the dream, An Wujiu entered a temple and, without warning, smashed the ancient gods enshrined within. In the end, everything was burned to ashes by a sudden fire.
However, Shen Ti had no idea where his dream self was. He attempted to search inside and outside the raging flames but woke up before finding anything.
He was awakened by a dripping sound, but it didn’t come from his game panel or any other communication device; it came from the person beside him.
Shen Ti, suppressing his sleepiness, opened his eyes, surprised to find that An Wujiu hadn’t even set basic screen lock settings, and messages were directly projected.
It was from Zhong Yirou.
[Wujiu, I forgot to give you the full-body scan results from last time. The results are strange; 45% of your skeleton seems to have been replaced with metal. According to my knowledge, not many research institutions currently possess such technology.
When I saw your exposed wrist bone for the first time, I noticed that the numbering and codes on this metal skeleton seem to be related to the Sha Wen Company. I showed the scan results to Erci last night, and she seems to know something but is not entirely sure. She may only explain it clearly if you come in person. I spent the entire night trying to get answers for you.]
Shen Ti, in a passive state, read through the entire message, perhaps suspecting the mysteries of An Wujiu’s body, so he wasn’t entirely surprised. His initial reaction was unexpectedly mischievous.
So, he sent a voice message.
“Was all you did the whole night just questioning her?”
After sending it and feeling a sense of satisfaction, Shen Ti escalated the playfulness. Deliberately suppressing his voice to sound husky, he recorded another sentence with a rather provocative tone.
“Oh, by the way, Wujiu was too tired last night; he’s still asleep. I’ll pass on your message when he wakes up.”
Not long after, he received a series of question marks from Zhong Yirou that could circle the Earth.
With a sense of achievement, Shen Ti’s drowsiness vanished.
An Wujiu was still sleeping in his arms, his long hair scattered behind him. The white sunlight penetrated the glass window like a soft knife, illuminating his face. Even the tiny hairs on his face were exceptionally clear.
It was only at this moment that Shen Ti was willing to believe that An Wujiu wasn’t a perfectly manufactured machine but an adorable human being.
His bathrobe had loosened during sleep, exposing most of his chest. Intricate patterns formed by the intertwining black lines rose and fell with his breath, appearing vivid and lively.
At some point, a wicked thought crossed Shen Ti’s mind. He acknowledged he wasn’t a good person and had mundane desires, but he wouldn’t take advantage of someone vulnerable, especially not the person who tried to save him the previous night.
So, he pulled his hand away, intending to re-tie An Wujiu’s bathrobe. However, just as he closed the robe and put his fingers on the belt, coincidentally, An Wujiu woke up.
Those slender, snow-white hands grabbed his.
“Early in the morning… What are you trying to do?”
The lazy tone immediately signaled the change in An Wujiu. Indeed, when Shen Ti looked up, he met An Wujiu’s raised eyebrows and teasing eyes.
Now, claiming that he was helping Shen Ti put on clothes, only An Wujiu in an extreme state of kindness would believe such a statement.
But unfortunately, he had changed.
Shen Ti thought about explaining, but in the next moment, An Wujiu flipped him over and pinned him down. The bathrobe he had just tied slipped off one shoulder, the other covered by his long hair, creating an illusion.
“Did you sleep well last night?” An Wujiu’s bent knuckles slowly grazed Shen Ti’s prominent nose. The other hand, however, gripped his neck, a blend of flirting and threat.
“What do you want to do?” Shen Ti retorted, throwing An Wujiu’s earlier words back at him.
An Wujiu almost pressed his forehead against Shen Ti’s. “You signed a contract selling yourself to me. Doesn’t that mean I can do whatever I want?”
“You didn’t say it like that.” At this point, Shen Ti seemed quite interested in explaining the IOU he had signed, as if genuinely uninterested.
“It’s not a contract selling yourself; it’s me keeping this life for you. As for how I use this life, it’s my business.”
An Wujiu leaned close to his ear and softly called his name.
“Shen Ti.”
“Are you dissatisfied with me like this? Or do you prefer someone a bit more innocent?” An Wujiu’s tone carried a playful edge. “I can pretend.”
Shen Ti struggled between two emotions.
But deep down, he understood that An Wujiu in this state was just playing around for the sake of amusement, wanting to see him lose control and gain a perverse sense of satisfaction.
Perhaps out of reluctance, Shen Ti felt a bit disgruntled and had a strange sense of defiance.
He crossed his arms behind his head, deliberately avoiding any contact with An Wujiu.
“You’ll regret it when you change back,” Shen Ti said.
An Wujiu laughed, “If you missed such a good opportunity, and you’ll also regre…” Suddenly, An Wujiu frowned. His words were cut off, and his tongue seemed to tremble. The sudden headache made his temples throb violently.
Then he abruptly changed back.
What was he doing just now?
An Wujiu, who had gotten used to his strange condition of jumping between extremes, found it unbearable when facing Shen Ti.
His face displayed confusion and a regret that couldn’t be concealed. In the moment of realization, he awkwardly and quickly moved away from Shen Ti, fixing his disheveled bathrobe.
Shen Ti, being highly perceptive, noticed that he had returned to normal. Almost instinctively, he grabbed his arm, pulling him back.
The roles were reversed in an instant.
“Weren’t you quite impressive just now?”
He now held the upper hand.
“Just now, I…” An Wujiu tried to explain that those thoughts weren’t his own, but it also contained an element of lying, so he stopped.
Shen Ti had just said that he would regret it, and now he really, really regretted it.
But then Shen Ti asked with a smile, “I regret it now; is there still a chance to change it?”
