Chapter 33

996 was back, lugging a little package on its back. Its beady eyes were already displaying Zzz…, since it had gone to request annual leave from the Main System.

It couldn’t eat a thing anymore.

Not even that pins-and-needles numbness.

【Little Jing…】

The slime came to an abrupt halt.

Qi Jing had been leaning on Bo Chengyan’s shoulder, but the moment his eyes met those beady ones, he panicked completely.

His cheeks burned bright red as he lifted his hands to push the man in front of him away.

Bo Chengyan’s brows furrowed ever so slightly. He caught hold of Qi Jing’s fingers and asked patiently, “What’s wrong?”

“I… I need to eat. You should head downstairs first.”

Qi Jing’s gaze darted away, his breathing quick and shallow. He couldn’t get down—his knees were pinned in place, leaving him immobile.

All he could do was look up at Bo Chengyan, his own brows lightly furrowed.

“Let me down.”

Bo Chengyan lowered his eyes to study him, dimly recalling the way Qi Jing had been when he first arrived: his voice not fully formed, his words tentative and restrained.

It was a little like coquetry.

Just like now.

Qi Jing found himself scooped up into Bo Chengyan’s arms. He instinctively turned his head away, but Bo Chengyan noticed immediately and firmly pinched his chin, turning it back.

“Where are you looking?”

Bo Chengyan frowned down at the young man in his arms. He followed Qi Jing’s line of sight and turned his head, his expression blank.

There was only a windowsill.

“The vase… the vase.”

Qi Jing stammered the explanation, clutching at the fabric of Bo Chengyan’s shoulder. His eyes were earnest.

“It’s pretty nice-looking.”

“I think it’s really nice-looking.”

A few seconds ticked by.

Bo Chengyan didn’t press further. Instead, he did as Qi Jing wanted and headed downstairs, his tone calm. “Call me if you need anything.”

He lightly brushed Qi Jing’s cheek.

An intimate gesture.

It wasn’t until the door clicked shut that 996 poked its head out from inside the vase. The mouth was too narrow, and extracting its body proved awkward.

【What’s going on? Did they see right through us or something?】

Qi Jing was still in a daze. He pressed his lips together, struck by the feeling that Bo Chengyan had chosen not to pry just now…

As if he hadn’t wanted to put him on the spot.

【Hey, where’s my package?】

996 spun in midair, realizing its things had fallen off. It squeezed its body back into the narrow vase mouth to fish out its little bundle.

Its voice buzzed.

【Little Jing… I brought you some good stuff.】

It was still struggling to reach it.

Qi Jing sighed and walked over to tip the vase. Out tumbled 996, package and all.

“You scared me to death.”

“Where have you been these past few days?”

The blue slime looked deeply apologetic as it mumbled, 【I failed to look after you. You’re my mission host—I should prioritize your safety above all else.】

【But every time it’s Bo…】

996 suddenly grew awkward and fidgety.

It really hated this.

The slime unfurled its package and said earnestly, 【I’ve gone and gotten myself repaired. No more random snacking for me.】

【And this is the reward from last time. I had Qingshi in Harbor City handle it a bit, so it’s easier for you to use.】

The blue slime squatted on the floor and laid out all sorts of documents.

Deeds to properties, shop certificates, hefty savings cards.

Simple and straightforward.

Since Qi Jing had no intention of returning to his original world, there was no need for data manipulation on that end—which meant less mission work overall.

【Oh, right.】

【Since Qingshi figured you might not know how to manage assets, it asked if you need help with that?】

Qi Jing stared at the items in a haze. “These are all real?”

996: 【Of course.】

The young man sank down onto the carpet, his fringe falling obediently over his forehead. He tugged at his sleeve.

He felt a touch of bewilderment creeping in.

Money really did flow like water.

He’d just shelled out a million.

How was there even more now…

Qi Jing hadn’t done anything for it. He hadn’t even held a job.

It went against that simple principle of reaping what you sow.

“This is way too much… and I haven’t even helped the protagonist…” Qi Jing couldn’t hold back from saying. His brows knitted together, fingers twisting into a knot.

996 hurried to reassure him. 【It’s not much at all, Little Jing.】

【I’ll explain the plot stuff later. You were accidentally pulled here from another world by me. You’re alone here with no connections. Role-playing your identity to survive isn’t easy.】

【It’s a fair trade.】

996 floated back and forth in the air, growing more worried the more it thought about it. 【You’re too compliant.】

【No, I need to leave you a backup plan.】

~~~

Eavesdropping was an invasion of privacy.

Bo Chengyan knew that full well and did it anyway.

Qi Jing had no idea his words had been heard loud and clear. From a third-person view, he was just muttering to himself.

Talking to thin air.

Like he was possessed.

Bo Chengyan vaguely sensed something in the house—something that had latched onto Qi Jing. He had no clue what it was.

A creeping sense of losing control began to overtake him.

That evening, he didn’t leave Qi Jing’s room. He simply sat in the chair beside the bed to keep him company.

“Aren’t you going to sleep?”

Qi Jing didn’t dare try hooking Bo Chengyan’s leg with his toe again. He asked cautiously.

Ruan Heng’s words had spooked him. He knew relationships needed to build gradually.

“I’ll sleep once you’re asleep and I head out.”

It was a pretty perfunctory answer, like an adult soothing a child.

Though the phrasing was backward.

Qi Jing tucked in his chin and reached out to pull Bo Chengyan’s hand under the covers. The gesture might have seemed seductive.

But it wasn’t. He just wanted them closer, for the comfort of holding on.

Time slipped by bit by bit.

The boy on the bed truly fell asleep. Bo Chengyan rose and leaned over him, his eyes dark and inscrutable.

Why not tell him?

Was he not afraid of that thing?

996 had morphed into what seemed like a spiteful ghost, but its gelatinous body lay obediently dormant in the nightstand drawer.

It had learned its lesson. No more snacks, no matter what.

It would definitely stand guard—

Around two in the morning, the drawer cracked open. 996 had set an alarm for itself, hoping to check if the protagonist top had left…

He had.

But where was its Little Jing!

Ten minutes earlier.

Qi Jing was in a hazy half-sleep when he dimly felt himself lifted. His sleepshirt rode up, bunching at his elbows.

“Mm…”

Bo Chengyan tugged Qi Jing’s leg straight and scooped him up face-to-face, like a child. His voice rumbled low. “Awake?”

Warm breath ghosted over Qi Jing’s neck.

Oblivious, Qi Jing looped his arms around Bo Chengyan’s neck and mumbled in his sleep, like a dream.

“We’re not sleeping in this room anymore.”

Bo Chengyan murmured close to his ear, but got no real response. The young man simply nestled against his shoulder and dozed off.

And just like that.

It had sneaked in and swiped him right out from under them.

996 was utterly shocked. It floated to the next room over and found the boy sleeping in the master bedroom. It breathed a sigh of relief.

But what was the point of this?

The “ghost” didn’t get it. It started drifting boldly toward the door—only to meet a blast of chill wind.

And a piercing, icy stare.

Even though it was invisible.

996 felt inexplicably humiliated. One after another—what was their deal!

It was going in anyway!

It started to float closer.

Bo Chengyan stood up from the bed, his expression calm as he walked this way.

996 vanished on the spot.

Two or three in the morning, main lights off.

The hallway felt serene and peaceful.

The man hadn’t changed clothes—his shirt sleeves rolled up slightly as he glanced down the corridor.

Qi Jing slept soundly, a faint grassy scent lingering at his nose. He burrowed deeper into the covers.

Then he heard the door.

His eyelids fluttered open to reveal dark furnishings and layout. The young man blinked in confusion.

This wasn’t his room.

“Awake?”

Bo Chengyan had apparently showered and changed. He leaned over the bed.

Qi Jing reached up to loop his arms around Bo Chengyan’s neck and was pulled upright by the waist. Still dazed, he asked, “Did I sleepwalk?”

“No.”

“I carried you over.”

The master bedroom was spacious, but the color scheme wasn’t youthful—mostly books on the shelves and tables.

Qi Jing sat on the edge of the bed, his light sleepshirt smoothed down a bit. He glanced around.

“Bo…”

Something slipped around his neck.

Qi Jing looked down and saw a round wooden piece, like a button.

“What’s this?”

“A Peace Buckle.”

Bo Chengyan fastened it gently, his expression mild throughout. He brushed Qi Jing’s chin lightly.

Qi Jing’s fingers were caught in Bo Chengyan’s grasp, his fingertips rubbed softly.

“There. All set.”

A small wooden pendant now hung from a black cord around his neck. It actually looked pretty good.

One of Qi Jing’s hands remained clasped in Bo Chengyan’s while the other lifted the Peace Buckle. He examined it curiously.

“Sleep well?”

Bo Chengyan asked mildly, giving the young man’s palm a squeeze.

Qi Jing’s gaze finally shifted back, clear and cool as he met Bo Chengyan’s eyes. His voice was still husky from sleep.

“Yeah.”

But the next second—

“You don’t look so good.”

Qi Jing reached out to touch Bo Chengyan’s face. Was it his imagination? He had to ask, “Did you sleep at all?”

Bo Chengyan often felt like he was spiraling out of control, but he couldn’t pinpoint where it started. Was it when Qi Jing had cried in the ER with his sprained ankle? During that unrelenting fever? Or later, in the room, when he’d innocently asked what “whistling” meant…

Without the eavesdropping, he wouldn’t know Qi Jing had been talking to some unknown entity. How long it had been going on, he had no idea.

Whether it posed any harm—he had no idea.

“Slept.”

Qi Jing didn’t quite believe it, but he still couldn’t figure out why Bo Chengyan had carried him to the master bedroom to sleep. What was wrong with his own room?

It wasn’t until the other man said, very calmly, “You’ll sleep here from now on.”

~~~

Lin Se frowned at the list the Chief Assistant had handed him, feeling like he was about to lose his mind.

What the hell? These Taoists charged such exorbitant fees!

It was half a year’s salary for him.

He never should have gone into medicine. He should have found a Taoist temple and learned the arts ages ago!

That kind of work actually had money-making potential.

The young man shoved his hands into his pockets, thoroughly depressed, but he still asked, “Didn’t you get the Peace Buckle? The one made of peach wood, fully consecrated—it should ward off evil just fine.”

“No need to go to such extremes, right?”

Bo Chengyan said nothing. It wasn’t until Lin Se asked bluntly, “How did you even realize there was a ghost in the house?”—

Several minutes later—

Lin Se’s face was expressionless. He closed his eyes, started to say something, then bit his tongue.

Eavesdropping.

Talk about perverted.

But without it, he might never have noticed.

Lin Se was a staunch materialist. He still believed Qi Jing was probably under too much psychological stress, leading to some hallucinations.

“Maybe take him to see someone…”

“He’s not sick.”

“…”

Bo Chengyan’s expression remained neutral as he glanced at the time on his wristwatch.

“Then have you asked him? You could just ask him straight up.”

“I haven’t found the right moment yet.”

Bo Chengyan’s brow furrowed as something occurred to him. “He even came up with a whole love story between me and some unrelated person. Said it was a dream.”

Lin Se blinked. “Huh?”

What kind of wild imagination was this kid cooking up?

The young man’s eyes narrowed as a memory surfaced. Hadn’t Bo Chengyan mentioned before that he could hear…

The Chief Assistant knocked on the door, reminding them of the meeting in fifteen minutes.

Lin Se had no choice but to head out, adding as he went, “I still think you should talk to him first. The Old Estate… it’s not like Brocade River Villas. Try not to worry too much.”

Meanwhile, at Capital University.

Qi Jing collected his military training uniform from the sports field, clutching it carefully. The sun beat down relentlessly, and 996 lay across the boy’s shoulders like an ice pack.

When one side grew too warm, it flipped over, its beady eyes shifting upward.

【I still don’t really get what you’re saying. I can’t be a good protagonist.】

996 replied earnestly: 【How could that be? It’s easy.】

【The world only needs stable data. Ruan Heng has his own plans—I’ve observed him, and he’s perfectly stable. The only unstable element is the Protagonist Top.】

Qi Jing’s eyelids drooped slightly. 【I like him.】

【Doesn’t that mean I’m just replacing someone else?】

996 drifted lazily about, as if it had finally pinpointed the issue. 【Is it because of the persona and plot I assigned you? Have they been bothering you?】

The boy’s footsteps halted.

In truth, it was.

Even if those events had never happened, the knowledge carried an air of “absolute certainty.”

Every time 996 appeared, it reminded Qi Jing of the “original plot.”

It made him profoundly uncomfortable.

He found a shady spot under a tree and sat down. With no one around, he admitted, “A little.”

“996, Bo Chengyan is incredibly wealthy. He has no reason to choose me.”

“I don’t entirely buy what you’re saying. I… I stabilize his data?”

“How could I possibly have that kind of impact?”

Propping his chin on his hand, Qi Jing gazed at the basketball court nearby. Someone was dunking with impressive vigor.

【You’re wonderful, Little Jing.】

Drifting like a jellyfish, 996 said solemnly:

【Everyone is one of a kind. You can’t measure a person’s worth with money.】

【Data shows wealthy people hold higher social status, sure. But when it comes to happiness? They’re not at the top.】

Having spent several days in Harbor City, 996 had absorbed some local wisdom and parroted it back:

【From all the numbered worlds I’m aware of, protagonists aren’t always rich. Some are self-made small-business owners, some are soldiers who died on the battlefield, others are just ordinary wage earners…】

【They span every layer of society.】

Qi Jing sat on a bench, looking over intently. “Every layer?”

【Exactly.】

【Every one of them is worth telling their story.】

He stacked his feet together and swung them lightly, his gaze lowering as he murmured softly, “I’m not being that dramatic…”

“I’m just wondering what I can do.”

“The best thing would be… not to always be the one taken care of.”

Right then—

Qi Jing’s phone buzzed in his pocket.