The space in front of him was empty, clear enough to see the swaying leaves.
But the soft sensation against his chest was so real, the hand around his waist gripped tightly, and worst of all, the barrier of clothing had vanished entirely—their hips pressed flush together, close enough to feel…
Fuck, bro, not only do you have a big heart, but you’ve got some serious weight elsewhere too!
Shen Leyuan took a deep breath, trying to push the “person” away.
Before he could act, that person released his waist first, though his wrist remained firmly gripped.
Are you an idiot? Why aren’t you running?
Huo Tingfeng cursed inwardly, but his legs didn’t slack off—they covered two steps in one stride. If not for fear of cameras, he would’ve scooped Shen Leyuan up for a hundred-meter sprint.
“W-Wait!” Shen Leyuan whispered. “I’m baiting him!”
You don’t even have a fishing rod—what are you—oh…
Huo Tingfeng halted abruptly, embarrassed enough to want to shove Shen Leyuan back. But when he glanced over, Fatty was charging after them.
This fish is literally chasing the hook?
Shen Leyuan clutched his chest, gasping for air. Before he could catch his breath, his fingers were pinched—once, twice, three times. Furious, he slapped out: What the hell, you absolute pervert?
That hand panicked, twisting his arm back slightly.
Shen Leyuan: ?
He whipped his head around—Fatty was less than five meters away, a few more steps and he’d grab him.
Fuck!
Shen Leyuan bolted.
The idiot fish pursued relentlessly. Shen Leyuan deliberately avoided crowds, darting toward quiet spots. He slipped into some unknown building, locked himself in a bathroom stall, and quietly called the police.
“…Yeah, that’s basically it. Right, he’s shown clear violent tendencies!”
Fatty burst in right behind, cursing and kicking the door like a madman. Maybe it was sheer force working miracles—the latch was already loosening. Three or five more kicks and it’d give way.
But then, he stopped.
Shen Leyuan didn’t dare open the door, clutching his pounding heart. Randomly, a song lyric popped into his head: I’m afraid of ghosts, but they’ve never harmed a hair on my head; I’m not afraid of people, yet they’ve left me covered in wounds.
Pfft—
He ducked his head, stifling laughter until his shoulders shook.
No, laughing now is too weird. He forced it down, still adjusting his mood when he was suddenly pulled into a cool embrace. A hand patted his back gently, as if to say: Don’t be scared, don’t be scared—I’m here.
Shen Leyuan froze, too embarrassed to admit he’d been laughing.
This is awkward.
Being held like this was awkward too. Though Mr. Big-Chest Ghost had tried to keep distance, their legs still brushed in that subtle way. Shen Leyuan’s face had to be beet red—why else would it burn so hot?
“You…” Shen Leyuan started to ask.
The patting hand paused, tapping his ear.
Listen?
Shen Leyuan tilted his head, straining. Faint footsteps approached, then the neighboring stall door scraped open with a creak. A metal stool without foot covers clanged down, and someone climbed on.
Shen Leyuan looked up slowly, his heart clenching.
Fatty’s eyes blazed red, his face twisted in a deranged, terrifying grin. “You did this on purpose, didn’t you? Lured me to chase you? No problem—intentional murder without the death penalty is just twenty years max!”
Twenty years, in exchange for three million each from three big bosses.
Worth it!
No sooner had he spoken than a hard fist smashed into Fatty’s face. He tumbled from the stool, pinned by the police who finally arrived.
Three or five officers, and not one dared meet Shen Leyuan’s eyes.
They were all victims of the “sex fetish exam.”
Once Fatty was dragged outside, Director Hao arrived, panting as he caught his breath. His gaze landed on the fist mark: “Whoa, not a light punch!”
Shen Leyuan smiled evasively, thinking, No kidding.
Before he could react, Mr. Ghost had grabbed his hand and swung. His knuckles still ached.
His discomfort must’ve shown—Mr. Ghost’s cool palm suddenly covered it, rubbing his finger bones amid the crowd. The faint red swelling turned redder, heating up along with Shen Leyuan’s face.
“Teacher Shen?” a young officer called, face flushed. “Car’s outside.”
Shen Leyuan snapped out of it with a vague “oh,” shaking off Mr. Ghost’s hand to chase after them. Just before getting in, the dorm WeChat group exploded: [@Shen @Nanny, bad news—the dog’s gone!!!]
Shen Leyuan and Huo Tingfeng both jolted inwardly.
One thought: What happened to my pup? I haven’t been out an hour!
The other: What happened to my body? I left in such a rush, no clue!
Shen Leyuan explained to Director Hao; Huo Tingfeng raced to where he’d crashed into the tree.
The little dog’s body lay hidden among the grass blades, fur on its head flecked with blood, its tiny belly still.
Huo Tingfeng trembled as he touched its nose, hoping for faint breath.
No breath came—but he felt a pull.
Ecstatic, he dove back in without thinking. At first, his body felt numb, but sensation crept in: cold, pain. Then, with a “cough,” it exhaled and truly revived.
That’s when Shen Leyuan found him.
He scooped up the limp pup, nose stinging as tears fell. “Did you see the bad guy trying to bully Daddy and run so fast you hit a tree?”
Huo Tingfeng listlessly nipped his finger: Taking advantage at a time like this? Too much!
Shen Leyuan choked up. “Okay, okay—Daddy won’t leave you with anyone else next time. Don’t be mad, baby. Daddy loves you most.”
Tears dripped into the fur—cool, yet scorching his heart.
Huo Tingfeng stopped biting, passing out quietly.
Mr. Ghost reappeared, patting Shen Leyuan’s shoulder reassuringly. He stayed as they watched the little one wheeled into surgery. When the tiny form vanished inside, his mood…
Wait!
Huo Tingfeng wailed inwardly: What did I just miss? A chance to return to my body?!
He was confined to a one-meter radius again, lightly tugged into the surgery room. Ahead: the pup getting shaved. Behind: the closing door. Through the glass: a tear-streaked face.
Huo Tingfeng shifted uncomfortably: Why cry so hard?
He was subtly glad for his earlier stupidity—not bolting back to the hospital on the spot.
Post-stitches required at least a day of observation. Shen Leyuan stayed at the pet hospital, even ordering takeout to scarf down by the door before rushing back to the pup.
The Little Dog dozed fitfully; Mr. Ghost appeared sporadically.
Shen Leyuan didn’t notice the pattern—Mr. Ghost didn’t touch him constantly and stayed mostly silent. He wasn’t sure if the ghost was there or listening.
He held his phone to his ear. “Mr. Ghost, have you been following me this whole time?”
The dangling hand gripped his, shaking side to side: no.
Shen Leyuan pressed: “What’s your surname?”
After a pause, he introduced himself: “I’m Shen Leyuan—means I’m happy to share this fateful connection with you.”
A long moment later, Mr. Ghost’s finger traced his palm.
A short horizontal stroke—then Huo Tingfeng stopped.
Can’t let him know I’m Huo. Otherwise, he’ll realize I’m the elevator guy… and…
What then?
Huo Tingfeng couldn’t figure it, but he didn’t want Shen Leyuan knowing.
“Happy to share this fateful connection”—such a beautiful meaning. Why’s my name so plain, so hard to say?
The finger moved again: —
“Chu?” Shen Leyuan chuckled softly. “Mr. Chu, right? Thanks for saving me.”
He whispered: “Could I ask you to watch my silly pup? It’s so dumb, always getting hurt.”
Who’re you calling dumb?!
Huo Tingfeng glared, then obediently gripped the hand, shaking up and down.
Agreement.
“Thanks!” Stars lit Shen Leyuan’s eyes. “Need me to burn anything for you? Clothes or incense…”
A doctor passed; he switched mid-sentence: “…water?”
Huo Tingfeng shook side to side: I ain’t dead yet—what’s with the burning?!
Oh, no need.
So how do I repay Mr. Ghost? Shen Leyuan asked: “Any unfinished wishes?”
Yeah, I wanna check the hospital—alone.
He started up-down, but remembered he was “Mr. Chu,” freezing halfway to shake side to side instead.
None! I went peacefully!
Shen Leyuan: “Don’t worry about troubling me—tell me.”
He set fingers on the phone’s input, switching to typing: [Can we chat like this? Use my finger like a stylus.]
The hand took over, typing one word: [Okay]
Huo Tingfeng: [No wishes for now]
Huo Tingfeng: [Don’t worry, your Little Dog will be fine]
Huo Tingfeng: [But]
But your pup wishes you’d stop taking advantage.
Too embarrassing to type. Too revealing.
Shen Leyuan: [?]
Shen Leyuan: [But what? What’s wrong?]
Huo Tingfeng deadpanned: [But it’s bumped its head too many times—might affect its IQ.]
Shen Leyuan: [No worries, how could I dislike my pup?]
Huo Tingfeng felt an odd warmth.
Shen Leyuan: [It wasn’t smart to begin with.]
Huo Tingfeng: ?
He typed furiously: [It reminds you before potty time, knows to go to the bathroom—smarter than average dogs, right?]
Deleted instantly.
Fuck, is that something to brag about?
Will a dog head injury lower my IQ?
Lost in self-doubt, a water drop hit the screen. Shen Leyuan wiped it: [But it never gets that I’m just stepping out—not abandoning it.]
[It’s my first dog. I don’t know if I can care for it right.]
[Less than a month in, and it’s always hospitalized. I’m a terrible, terrible owner. If someone else had picked it up, it’d be better off.]
Another drop fell; Shen Leyuan wiped his face first.
Before Mr. Ghost could type more, he cut it off: [Mr. Chu, I don’t want to talk about this.]
Huo Tingfeng hesitated: [Mm]
But he couldn’t think of fun topics—just wanted Shen Leyuan happier—so: [Don’t think that way. It’s a normal, dumb little dog. Any other, you’d do better with.]
Injuries aren’t your fault—pup’s seeking its own suffering.
He figured it’d cheer him up.
Instead, his hand was pushed away: [Sorry, Mr. Chu. I’m in a bad mood. Don’t want to chat.]
