“Do I really have to wear this?” Liu Wen looked down at the gray-blue long dress she had on. “Can’t I dress a bit more brightly?”
“Bright how?” Wang thought this was the most standard.
“Can’t I be a colorful Cinderella?” Liu Wen wanted bold silhouettes and colors. “I like vintage style.”
“No, too distinctive.” Wang shot down her idea. “You need to look completely ordinary, then wait for someone to notice your hidden qualities.”
Liu Wen: “…I really hate this feeling.”
“It’s your own story.” Wang rested his head on Tao Fangyi’s shoulder, only realizing what he was doing after a moment.
He glanced back at Tao Fangyi.
Tao Fangyi was praising how simple and elegant Liu Wen looked.
Wang reached out and pressed Tao Fangyi’s shoulder. Tao Fangyi asked if something was wrong.
“Nothing. Just feels weirdly fascinating.” It was the first time Wang had been this short.
Well, not really—he’d grown up from this height.
He used to lean on his mother like this, too.
But this feeling…
Wang kept settling his head onto Tao Fangyi’s shoulder, savoring the strange sensation.
“Are you trying to headbutt my shoulder?” Tao Fangyi asked, unable to grasp what Wang felt.
“No. Leaning on you is quite comfortable,” Wang said.
Tao Fangyi was gratified. “That’s a father’s stability.”
“I have my own father.” Wang cut him off. He didn’t understand why Tao Fangyi always tried to act like his dad, but he wasn’t going to let him get away with it.
“…What exactly is your relationship?” Liu Wen found the two of them utterly confusing, their dynamic a mess.
“His birth family wasn’t great,” Tao Fangyi explained. “So now he’s mine.”
Wang had become a fierce ghost—his birth family definitely couldn’t have been good.
And since Wang still refused to acknowledge him as a father, their relationship was still up in the air.
Liu Wen’s thoughts went in a dubious direction. “So your ages are very far apart?”
“Mm… maybe five times, maybe more.” Tao Fangyi had pegged his own age at over five hundred. In truth, he had existed far too long.
Liu Wen: …
Wang: “I’m over a hundred years old, little brat.” He knew exactly what she was imagining.
Liu Wen: “Oh, then never mind.” Her grandmother wasn’t even a hundred.
“A hundred years old is tiny,” Tao Fangyi said. “Practically a newborn.”
“Eighteen is an adult.” Wang reminded him. Did Tao Fangyi see him as some infant in swaddling clothes?
“Eighteen is the legal adult age, sure, but eighteen is tiny, and a hundred is still tiny! You’re still a kid who loves romance novels.”
Wang reminded him yet again: “When I was in my twenties, my favorite way to pass the time was listening to opera.”
Tao Fangyi: “The opera you hear now is new stuff, too. I witnessed it develop.”
Wang: “What?”
“Very trendy,” Tao Fangyi said.
“It’s practically dying out.” Wang was nearing despair. “Forget it, let’s drop this.”
Tao Fangyi stealthily reached out and pressed Wang’s head against his shoulder.
He thought Wang looked very well-behaved like this.
Liu Wen: …
What a tangled mess.
“I’ll say this first! I might not be able to handle an overbearing CEO novel,” Liu Wen said.
“Then if you can’t handle it, you’ll stay here forever, never waking up. Your uncle will stick you in the ICU with just a thread of life left, your fiancé will end up with someone else, and inside your own head, you’ll be a helpless adult who can never handle overbearing CEO novels.” Wang said.
Liu Wen: …
She took a deep breath, walked quietly into the yard, and got on her bicycle.
“So I’m going to crash into someone’s car. I won’t get killed, right?” Liu Wen was a little worried about dying. This seemed so dangerous.
“No, don’t worry.” Tao Fangyi reassured her even as he pulled out his notebook. “See, I wrote it down. That car is parked, and you’re going to ride your bike straight into it and scratch the paint. Then one of the male leads shows up. He keeps chewing you out while you keep apologizing.”
“Eventually he gets truly angry. Oh, and when the moment comes, your big line is: ‘So what if I’m poor? Does being poor give you the right to bully me?’ Then he throws a wad of cash right at you.” Tao Fangyi finished reading, then planted his hands on his hips and sighed. What an interesting meet-cute this was.
Liu Wen lowered her head, thoroughly embarrassed. “And then I pick up the money?”
“Ah, no. You have to say: ‘Who wants your filthy money? You’re insulting my dignity,’ and then kick him, hard.” Tao Fangyi went on.
Liu Wen’s head drooped even further.
“Then you ride off on your bike in triumph, and that male lead clutches his shin while watching your departing back, thinking you’re so different—you actually dared defy him.” When Tao Fangyi finished, he discovered that Liu Wen was already crouched on the ground, her face in her hands.
“You can do it! Get on!” Tao Fangyi encouraged her.
Liu Wen drew a deep breath. In the adult world, the word “easy” doesn’t exist. Every awful thing had already happened; all she could do was work hard to make things turn out a little better.
She got on the bike and started pedaling as hard as she could.
Tao Fangyi cruised along next to her, telling her she was amazing. He and Wang drifted in midair, trailing along with her.
She crashed into the car. Then the male lead who defied human anatomical norms stepped out. He ruffled his short red hair, removed his sunglasses, and said: “Woman, have you lost your mind?”
Liu Wen awkwardly delivered her line: “Sorry, sorry. I’ll pay for the damage.”
“Can you afford it?!” The man’s voice spiked. “Selling you wouldn’t even cover a single headlight!”
Liu Wen kept apologizing. The man kept spewing.
What Liu Wen hadn’t expected was that the string of insults he spewed exceeded even her tolerance level.
She had been this unhinged? She had known this many vulgar words?!
Back then, she was just a junior high student!
Liu Wen was deeply disappointed in herself.
The plot hit its climax. The man suddenly slammed a wad of cash right onto Liu Wen.
As the banknotes scattered, Liu Wen’s very first instinct was to stretch out her leg and kick him—as if she were kicking her younger self who refused to learn better.
Then she got on the bike and stomped the pedals.
“How do you feel?” Tao Fangyi asked.
“A bit weird,” Liu Wen answered truthfully.
It was mortifying. She didn’t understand why she’d written a plot like this. She very clearly had crashed into someone else’s car and then kicked the car owner. No matter how she thought about it, it was bizarre.
And yet. The male lead’s words had been harsh, and that feeling of treating money like dirt…
If she was being honest, it was a little bit satisfying.
And that little bit of satisfaction made Liu Wen deeply, deeply embarrassed.
After Liu Wen described her feelings to Tao Fangyi, Wang jumped in. “Isn’t your uncle’s family fairly well off? Have you never felt what it’s like to treat money like dirt?”
“My uncle’s family just runs a small business. How could they ever throw money around like that?” Liu Wen said, then couldn’t help adding, “When I was a kid, I really didn’t know what money meant.”
“What does it mean?” Tao Fangyi had his notebook open again, ready to record.
“It means almost everything. Only people who don’t have to earn a living can afford to disregard money,” Liu Wen said.
“It absolutely does not mean everything.” Tao Fangyi didn’t agree, so he didn’t write it down.
“Without money, I’ll starve to death!” Liu Wen knew cultivators probably looked down on something like money, but to ordinary people like her, it was far too important.
“Money is just paper. Or metal. Or a number. It’s a tool, and a tool’s value lies purely in its function,” Tao Fangyi said.
“Yes, but it’s also the ticket for people to live a better life,” Liu Wen tried to explain.
“What’s ‘better’?” Tao Fangyi asked.
“Having money, having love, and having social status and power. Those are security.”
“Then how much money is enough?”
“A lot, a lot.” Liu Wen felt there was no upper limit. “Almost infinite.”
“So, can money buy life?” Tao Fangyi pressed.
“I don’t know. But personally, I don’t think so.” Liu Wen smiled. “Otherwise, why would I make the CEO the most powerful protagonist in the story?”
“Because what he possesses proves his strength and nobility, and you, being acknowledged by him, also seem to become strong and noble.” Tao Fangyi’s thoughts took a winding path. “You used the ‘overbearing CEO’ as currency to buy the most powerful version of yourself.”
Liu Wen froze.
Wang, too, looked at Tao Fangyi in surprise.
“In fact, you wanted to be the even stronger one—because you used all sorts of different currencies to buy a perfect version of yourself. They all love you with life-or-death desperation, and in those relationships, they are the insecure ones, the ones afraid of loss.” At this thought, a sudden light dawned on Tao Fangyi.
“But your current fiancé isn’t an overbearing CEO. So you don’t need those rare currencies to buy your dream persona.”
The protagonist of a romance novel wants everything: kindness, innocence, courage, defiance against power.
“Because you already have your own personality!” Tao Fangyi rapped his own head with his knuckles. “So, how do you feel right now?”
Liu Wen: “…I’m fine. But I wouldn’t say I’m perfect.” She knew she had a whole pile of little flaws, but at the moment, she lived very comfortably.
“So you don’t fantasize anymore!” Tao Fangyi understood. “You don’t yearn for it because you’re working hard right now.”
Liu Wen: …
Liu Wen: “So, what you’re saying is… maybe money isn’t actually the thing I want. It’s just a tool I sometimes need to achieve my goals, so I’ve elevated that tool to such a high pedestal?”
“In reality, it doesn’t participate in the happiness itself; it’s just a tool?”
Tao Fangyi fell silent for a beat. “Huh? Did I just go off on a tangent?”
Liu Wen: “You didn’t notice?!”
“Right! Money! I was talking about money just now!” Tao Fangyi had let his thoughts run so far that he’d forgotten what he was stuck on in the first place.
Beside them, Wang narrowed his now-large eyes.
Means and ends?
Money is the means, the purchased object is the end.
The object is the means, the physical or psychological need is the end.
Those overbearing CEOs are the means, the beloved, perfect self is the end.
Then if the desire to kill is the means… what is filling his end?
