A True Heart Can Be Exchanged for a True Heart
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——I just want you to know, I have a heart too, just like you.
Zhou Jiao was not someone who was easily moved, yet these words sent a numbing shock through her scalp.
Jiang Lian did not realize that these words reflected a fact.
He had learned to empathize for her.
Why are antisocial personalities considered outliers?
Because they lack the ability to empathize and cannot put themselves in others’ situations.
Empathy is the foundation of human nature, the cornerstone of conscience, the starting point of all interpersonal relationships.
She lacked the ability to empathize, so she had no friends and no lover.
The reason she had feelings for Jiang Lian was not because he had given her the ability to empathize, but because she enjoyed the feeling of being pursued, desired, and watched by him.
However, after hearing his words, she suddenly felt as if her cold and hardened shell had been stripped away, leaving her standing alone in an icy, snow-covered world, shivering as if her teeth were frozen.
His change shook her.
The burning true heart in her hands also made her feel heavy, unworthy of receiving it.
Zhou Jiao had always been able to lie without any burden, effortlessly using all kinds of lies to brush off Jiang Lian, watching him confused, watching him suffer.
Now, more than a dozen flawless lies flashed through her mind—each one capable of returning this true heart to him, sealing the gaping wound in his chest where blood was flowing.
But she could not say them.
Her lifeless humanity ignited a spark, and for once, it spread like a prairie fire.
However, no matter how fierce the flames, they could not compare to the burning heat of this true heart.
She was a little reluctant to part with this heart’s… warmth.
She did not want to return it.
…Nor did she want to deceive him again.
Zhou Jiao raised her other hand and removed the military mask from her face.
Countless semi-transparent particles dissipated from her face like starlight.
In truth, whether she wore the mask or not made no difference. Jiang Lian did not recognize her through her facial features, and in the eyes of higher-dimensional beings, whether her features were arranged in a three-dimensional structure did not matter either… But she just wanted to take off the mask and say something truthful to him.
“Jiang Lian,” she said softly, “do you know that the difference between us may not just be insignificance, inferiority, and fragility?”
Jiang Lian’s first reaction was that she was about to reject him again.
He stared at her coldly, and in the gaping wound in his chest, dense, writhing appendages extended and contracted—watching her as well—casting upon her a gaze filled with the unwillingness and resentment of one betrayed in love.
He had already laid his heart bare for her to see, yet she still wanted to reject him.
He did not care that she was insignificant, inferior, or fragile, yet she was using this as a reason to reject him!
The heart in Zhou Jiao’s hands throbbed violently, each beat louder than the last, each movement more intense, almost slipping from her grasp.
Even worse, due to his emotional loss of control, the appendages in all directions also lost control, emitting an overwhelming, dizzying, frenzied buzzing, forming an eerie, icy wave of sound that crashed around them.
“Why won’t you want ‘him’? Why won’t you want ‘him’? Why won’t you want ‘him’…”
“You turned ‘him’ into a creature that is neither human nor non-human.”
“‘He’ is already yours.”
“You cannot abandon ‘him’.”
…
Zhou Jiao had just gathered the courage to confess, but before she could say a word, the overwhelming sound waves from the appendages nearly made her vomit.
“…Fuck.” She couldn’t help but curse, then wrapped her arms around Jiang Lian’s neck and tilted her head up to kiss him.
The moment their lips touched, all the terrifying sound waves disappeared.
Her tongue moved slightly, feeding him a trace of saliva, barely stabilizing his out-of-control emotions.
“What’s the rush,” she scolded softly, “calm down and listen to me—who said I don’t want you?”
Jiang Lian stared at her, his gaze still cold, unwilling, and resentful, as if he did not believe her words.
But the low-frequency buzzing of the appendages had indeed vanished.
Obedient enough.
Zhou Jiao couldn’t help but chuckle.
Jiang Lian slowly said, “I’ve quieted down. Speak.” As if hinting for her to stop laughing and get on with it.
Zhou Jiao’s laughter had not completely faded, but her gaze toward him grew complicated.
Because of the laws of nature, he held an inherent sense of disdain and rejection toward humans. When viewing human society, he always looked down from above, detached and condescending.
And yet, this creature that was neither human nor comprehensible…
Took every word she said to heart.
She had said she didn’t want to be with a predator.
So he suppressed his predatory instincts with all his might, never again consuming her saliva without restraint.
She had asked him to think about how to make it up to her.
That was merely an offhand remark. If it had been any human man, the moment she said “I kind of like you,” they would have seized the opportunity, climbing up the pole, or simply kissing her right away, pushing things further.
But he did not. Instead, he said she should not like him now, that she should wait until he figured out how to make it up to her before liking him.
He was cold-blooded and ruthless, ignorant of human emotions, lacking the finesse and social awareness of humans—yet he possessed an utterly pure and sincere heart.
A true heart can be exchanged for a true heart.
At least at this moment, she was willing to exchange hers with him.
“Where was I?” Zhou Jiao thought for a moment. “Oh, Jiang Lian, have you ever considered that the difference between us may not just be insignificance, inferiority, and fragility?”
Jiang Lian replied coldly, “No.”
Zhou Jiao suppressed a laugh and continued:
“I’m not what you would call a good person. When I was twelve, I was diagnosed with antisocial personality disorder. No one knows why—my parents are good people, and they don’t carry any psychopathic genes. For a long time, I had no friends—because friendship requires mutual sharing of thoughts and feelings. I never confided in others, nor could I resonate with their emotions.”
“AI has determined that I am a potential dangerous individual. In reality, I am not much different from most people. If I had to point out a difference… it would be that I lack the ability to empathize.”
“Jiang Lian,” she said, her voice very light, “this is actually a kind of defect.”
Jiang Lian did not speak.
However, the heartbeat in her hands slowed down, though its intensity remained strong.
“I cannot feel how poetry or music is beautiful, nor can I perceive the emotions in paintings. I was born deprived of the ability to create art and can only engage in purely rational work.”
“There is a theory that the increasing number of antisocial personalities today is because corporations need them to carry out ruthless tasks.”
“This is exactly the kind of thing corporations would do, yet I do not feel the slightest anger,” she said self-mockingly. “When Lu Zehou told me about the corporation’s atrocities, I did not feel anything either. I only wanted to extract useful information from him and leave.”
Zhou Jiao’s voice became somewhat indistinct. “Jiang Lian, your heart is warm, but mine may not be. Likewise, you may not necessarily be a monster, but I am a genuine outlier.”
Perhaps because it was the first time she had ever revealed her true feelings, her expression showed an unusual trace of shyness.
“Forget it, I don’t even know what I want to say. I just remembered that I haven’t told you much truth… You probably don’t understand what I’m saying anyway.”
Jiang Lian actually did understand.
This was also what the original Jiang Lian had been investigating—gene modification surgeries had become widespread, so why had he still inherited the low-activity MAOA gene?
The theory Zhou Jiao mentioned had a high probability of being correct.
Corporations needed antisocial personalities to serve them because training a normal person into a cold-blooded, emotionless agent was too costly.
Even the most battle-hardened soldiers could not commit murder without feeling guilt.
But Zhou Jiao was even colder and more efficient than those rigorously trained soldiers. She could stare into another person’s eyes and pull the trigger without a flicker of emotion.
This was not a talent, but an artificial defect.
The corporation had taken away her ability to empathize and then killed her parents in an explosion.
As a result, she could not even feel… anger or sadness for what she had gone through.
She could speak of these things in such a lighthearted tone, but Jiang Lian could not take them lightly.
A terrifyingly intense murderous aura surged in his eyes—he only wanted to kill.
If she saw herself as an outlier, then he would destroy the world that made her into one.
When the entire world was reduced to only the two of them, she would naturally become the most normal human being.
Zhou Jiao had no idea what Jiang Lian was thinking. She lowered her head, contemplating how to return this burning-hot true heart.
…Could she just shove it back in directly?
Or should she recite some kind of incantation?
At that moment, she received a message:
“Look up.”
Zhou Jiao’s brow twitched, and she lifted her head, only to see that the entire city outside had completely changed.
This was originally a futuristic metropolis built of cold steel, deep blue glass, dazzling neon lights, and countless dazzling holographic advertisements.
Now, it had collapsed and crumbled, as if it had sunk into the depths of the ocean, exuding a murky and oppressive gloom.
The cold, slippery appendages clung tightly to the skyscrapers like some kind of giant seaweed, binding them in a death grip. Many buildings were already covered in ominous cracks, faintly showing signs of collapse.
A strange rumbling echoed from the skyline, sounding both like distant, rolling thunder and a low-frequency soundwave that made one’s internal organs clench uncomfortably.
The clouds were an eerie shade of purple-black. Looking closely, one would realize that it was actually the colossal shadow of an astronomical entity, terrifyingly vast, slowly descending.
The oppressive sensation made one’s hair stand on end, sending a chill down the spine.
Zhou Jiao: “…”
What the hell was Jiang Lian doing?
Unable to stop the twitch at the corner of her mouth, she asked, “What are you doing?”
Jiang Lian looked at her, his eyes devoid of any terrifying emotion, but the words he spoke sent chills down her spine:
“I’ve figured out how to make it up to you. I want to create a new world for you.”
“A world that will not see you as an outlier, that will not hurt you, and most importantly, will not disturb us.”
Actually, the part about not disturbing him and Zhou Jiao should have been the second reason.
But after merging with “Jiang Lian,” he had learned a little bit about human relationships and the art of conversation, so he placed that detail at the very end.
This way, Zhou Jiao should feel deeply moved and reward him with a passionate kiss.
Thinking of this, Jiang Lian’s throat went dry, his Adam’s apple bobbing heavily as he stared unblinkingly at Zhou Jiao’s lips, preparing to seize her wet tongue the moment she leaned in to kiss him.
However, Zhou Jiao did not kiss him as he had expected.
Instead, she rubbed her twitching temples hard. “…What if I say I don’t like this method of compensation?”
Jiang Lian frowned slightly. “Why? You don’t like this world, and you’re not happy here.”
He narrowed his eyes, displaying a certain kind of inhuman purity mixed with cunning, and continued using the art of persuasion:
“I will create a world more suited to you. In that world, you will have no burdens, and you will never have to see yourself as incomplete.”
Jiang Lian lowered his head, his damp, cold breath lightly seeping into her own. The world he described was so beautiful—he didn’t believe she wouldn’t reward him with a kiss for this.
The next moment, his neck was hooked.
Jiang Lian’s gaze slowly moved to Zhou Jiao’s lips, carrying a trace of a predator’s smug anticipation, eager for his impending “reward.”
Slap—
Instead, Zhou Jiao smacked him on the head, then with a loud plop, stuffed his heart back into the gaping hole in his chest, and coldly commanded:
“Hurry up and take all that stuff back. I may have antisocial personality disorder, but I’m not a villain. I don’t need you to destroy the world to compensate me.”