Are You Crazy?
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It was the first time Qiu Yu had heard Chen Cebai speak so rudely.
But she did not dislike it, and even felt a little like laughing.
She couldn’t help but reach out both arms, clasping them around Chen Cebai’s neck, rubbing her cheek lightly against his cold and sharply defined jawline.
Chen Cebai paused for a moment.
She whispered sticky-sweet in his ear, “No matter what you’re like, I like you.” In the darkness, she blinked her eyelashes at him. “Even when you speak rudely, I like that too…”
Chen Cebai did not respond.
In the dim bedroom, the viscous substance wriggled, like some kind of scaly reptile, returning to Chen Cebai’s body from all directions.
Affected by him, these “things” were very fond of Qiu Yu, doing their utmost to get close to her.
Thus, in a place where Qiu Yu could not see, just before one of the viscous substances fully returned to Chen Cebai’s body, it suddenly turned into a male hand, cupped her chin, pried open her lips with its thumb, and lightly brushed against her moist tongue.
Chen Cebai took all of this in without stopping it.
One day, he would completely become a monster, and he had to learn to coexist with these disgusting things.
It was just that a subtle sense of guilt lingered, refusing to dissipate.
Clearly, they were a legally married couple. Clearly, the viscous substances were also controlled by his will, part of him.
Yet it felt as if they were two accomplices, committing evil together in the dark.
At this moment, Qiu Yu was also feeling sleepy.
She yawned, turned on the bedside lamp, and planned to go to the bathroom before going to bed.
Chen Cebai also got up and went to the bathroom to take a shower.
After using the toilet, Qiu Yu climbed into the blankets. Listening to the pattering sound of the shower, sleepiness surged over her. Just as she was about to fall asleep, she suddenly remembered something.
—After Chen Cebai wiped her soles, both of his hands had been placed on either side of her, locking her within his embrace in an almost sealing posture.
The reason she remembered this detail was that after he finished speaking about his past, she had caught a glimpse of the back of his hand under the faint glow of neon lights and lightly rubbed against it with her forehead.
If both of his hands were on either side of her…
Then where did the extra hand come from?
A chill rushed up Qiu Yu’s spine, making her shudder.
She wrapped herself tighter in the blanket, shook her head, and felt that she was just scaring herself.
There was no third person in the room, and Chen Cebai’s hands were so close to her. It was only natural for one of them to cup her chin in passing.
Moreover, only Chen Cebai’s fingers would be that cold.
It even seemed a little… damp and sticky.
Could it be because of her?
Qiu Yu’s sleepiness vanished entirely, and she simply sat up, waiting for Chen Cebai to finish his shower and return.
Thus, when Chen Cebai came out of the bathroom, his damp hair still not dried, he saw Qiu Yu hooking her finger at him.
He tilted his head slightly and walked over.
She grabbed his wrist and, taking advantage of his unpreparedness, pushed him down in one swift motion.
Chen Cebai’s face revealed a trace of astonishment.
However, he quickly regained his composure. While drying his damp hair, he gazed at her with an unwavering calm, as if no matter what she did next, it would not surprise him.
Qiu Yu’s eyes were wide open, round like those of an innocent yet cunning cat. Her hands moved downward as she focused intently on observing the changes in his expression.
Before long, a distinct ripple surfaced in Chen Cebai’s cold, narrow eyes. His jaw tightened, his Adam’s apple bobbed sharply a few times, and his breathing grew somewhat rapid.
Qiu Yu found it a little strange.
Clearly, she was the one leading everything, yet his breath enveloped her like a dense, bottomless swamp, inviting her to sink into it along with him.
When it was over, she blinked, deliberately flexed her five fingers in front of him, then swiped them across her own lips.
At that moment, Chen Cebai’s gaze looked as though he wanted to devour her alive.
Qiu Yu’s heart pounded wildly under his stare. She leaned in and rubbed her lips heavily against his, then said with satisfaction, “Returning it to you!”
Chen Cebai immediately understood—she had mistaken the writhing viscous substance for something else.
He let out a light chuckle, did not correct her, and instead reversed his grip, seizing her wrist to put her mistaken assumption into practice.
Qiu Yu didn’t fall asleep until five in the morning. Luckily, her only task tomorrow was an interview scheduled for four in the afternoon, with drone assistance for filming. Otherwise, she would never be able to get up the next day.
She slept until one in the afternoon before she finally managed to get out of bed.
Chen Cebai had long since left for the laboratory.
Before leaving, he had laid out all the clothes, shoes, and socks she needed for the day within her reach.
He had also prepared both breakfast and lunch in advance. She only needed to press a button, and the house’s butler system would automatically heat the meals and deliver them to the dining table.
Lying in bed, Qiu Yu stared blankly for a moment, feeling a little lost. Other than washing up, she didn’t know what else she needed to do herself.
After finishing her morning routine, she took her interview script and headed to the company to do her makeup.
Normally, she hardly ever wore makeup, but for this series of interview programs, a consistent style of makeup and hairstyle was required.
After getting her makeup done, Qiu Yu put on a light blue suit and smoothed her voluminous curls with her fingers.
Her small, round face had been contoured by the makeup artist to appear slimmer and more pointed. Coupled with her long, captivating, slightly upturned eyes, her originally delicate and sweet features now carried an air of striking elegance.
Qiu Yu took the filming drone downstairs, intending to drive herself to the interview location. However, she spotted a familiar figure.
Pei Xi was waiting for her at the base of the office building.
He was dressed in a deep blue suit, with a light blue dress shirt underneath, paired with a slender tie, as if deliberately matching the tone of her outfit.
Qiu Yu suddenly recalled what Chen Cebai had said.
—The way he looks at you, it’s like he wants to eat you alive. Or… do you just like being looked at like that by him? Is that why you keep letting him cross the line again and again?
She hesitated for a moment before finally greeting Pei Xi. While exchanging pleasantries, she carefully observed his gaze, only to find that it was nowhere near as exaggerated as Chen Cebai had described.
If Chen Cebai’s gaze toward her was the quintessential way a man looks at a woman—deep, focused, and filled with aggression—
Pei Xi’s gaze toward her was somewhat indifferent, far less focused than Chen Cebai’s—perhaps not even half as much.
Or was it that Chen Cebai loved her too much, making Pei Xi’s gaze seem so plain and unremarkable in comparison?
But… could Chen Cebai really love her to such an extent?
Qiu Yu couldn’t help but recall every detail of her acquaintance with Chen Cebai.
The first time she learned of him was because of an experiment. What the experiment was about, she could no longer remember.
She only remembered that he was wearing a white lab coat, with light blue rubber gloves on his hands. His head was slightly lowered, revealing clean and neat hair roots.
His features were sharp and cold, yet his demeanor was like a lone wolf that had lost its pack, carrying an aggression even fiercer than that of an alpha wolf.
—Because from childhood to adulthood, he had always hunted alone, stalked alone, ambushed alone.
That was why a lone wolf could be an even more ruthless hunter than a pack.
Very few people would willingly place themselves in the position of prey.
Yet from the first moment Qiu Yu saw Chen Cebai, she wanted to be his prey, to be stared at with that kind of intense and savage gaze.
Just like how someone who likes doctors would want to be their patient.
Although Qiu Yu was easily shy, she never avoided her own desires. Besides, this was merely a harmless little fetish—there was nothing to shy away from.
She never told anyone about her interest in Chen Cebai, nor did she deliberately try to get close to him. She simply took an extra glance at him whenever they happened to cross paths.
Moreover, Chen Cebai had always been extremely indifferent toward people with corporate backgrounds. His gaze carried an innate sense of superiority, laced with subtle contempt and mockery. She didn’t dare to approach him on purpose.
Thinking back now, it was probably because of his mother.
Before the compatibility test, they had actually interacted once.
At the time, her parents had told her, in a tone that left no room for discussion, that it would be best if she married Pei Xi after graduation. Unless she had a better option, she would have no choice but to marry Pei Xi in this lifetime.
The so-called “better option” referred to someone with a family background superior to Pei Xi’s.
Chen Cebai was certainly out of the question.
Even if he became a researcher at some monopolistic corporation after graduation, he still wouldn’t meet her parents’ standards.
What’s more, he didn’t even know her, and he would never fall for her.
She had seen the way he looked at her friends—indifferent, even disgusted, as if he never wanted to be associated with them for the rest of his life.
… Was she really going to marry Pei Xi?
Qiu Yu’s mood sank. She stayed in the park alone for a long time.
Unknowingly, night had fallen.
The trees in the park were dense and deep, their shadows flickering, as if they could absorb the dim yellow light from the street lamps.
Qiu Yu wandered around in circles and soon realized she was a little lost.
Following her instincts, she kept walking forward. Though she eventually exited the park, she had no idea where she was.
She scratched her head and was about to keep walking when—
A cold hand suddenly reached out from the darkness and seized her wrist.
At that moment, a chill ran through Qiu Yu’s heart, and she was so startled that she nearly jumped. She turned her head and found herself staring into Chen Cebai’s cold, sharp eyes behind his glasses.
He lowered his gaze to look at her, offering no explanation for why he was here. He simply said:
“You’ve taken the wrong path.”
“This place is too dangerous. I’ll take you back.”
His tone was firm, leaving no room for refusal.
Qiu Yu swallowed and had no objections. “Alright, thank you.”
She had indeed taken the wrong path and had unknowingly wandered outside the school grounds. When she turned back, she saw that the park had already been locked. The only way back was through a noisy, chaotic alley that led to the school’s main entrance.
Chen Cebai walked ahead of her, his tall and upright figure shielding her from the disorderly people around them.
That was the first time she had personally witnessed the other side of the world—drunken people, brawling people, arguing people, people standing on rooftops testing their marksmanship… men and women waiting for customers to approach and inquire about their services.
A thug, wearing a neural-sensory device, slumped against a garbage bin. He swung his fists at the air while cursing incoherently.
After a long moment, he suddenly removed the device, pulled a gun from the back of his waistband, shoved it into his mouth, and decisively pulled the trigger—
Qiu Yu’s pupils dilated.
Just then, a hand grabbed her wrist and yanked her forward, while another hand firmly covered her eyes.
At some point, Chen Cebai had turned back and pulled her toward him.
His voice rang out above her head: “Keep walking.”
Even though he was protecting her, his tone and posture felt more like he was taking her hostage.
Qiu Yu wanted to laugh, but she couldn’t.
It was a long while before she recovered from the shock and took a deep breath. “…What happened to that person?”
Chen Cebai replied indifferently, “Most in-game assets are linked to real-world currency. He probably lost everything in the game.”
Qiu Yu understood.
Her parents had explained this phenomenon to her before.
For example, every year, biotechnology companies developed large-scale games targeting lower-income markets.
She had always been puzzled by this—biotechnology had the capability to create games with better graphics, more immersive neural-sensory effects, and higher artistic value, so why did they design games that catered more to groups that couldn’t even afford legitimate copies?
Her parents had said: “For social stability.”
—When the lower class is addicted to bloodshed, violence, and high-impact neural-sensory games, they have no time to focus on real social issues.
It was the same principle as social media platforms using big data to guide people into attacking each other.
This was the difference in class.
Different classes had different ways of thinking.
While Chen Cebai’s parents were thinking about how to survive tomorrow, her parents were thinking about how to rule over people like Chen Cebai’s parents.
At the time, Qiu Yu had thought that she and Chen Cebai would never cross paths.
Who would have thought that their compatibility rate would reach a full one hundred percent, and that they would get married right after graduation?
If Chen Cebai really loved her even more than she had imagined—so much so that Pei Xi’s gaze seemed dull and lifeless in comparison—then how had he endured these past three years?
Qiu Yu was lost in thought for a moment before she finally heard Pei Xi calling her name.
“What are you thinking about?” Pei Xi smiled. “I’ve been calling you for ages. Are you thinking about your interview, or about your husband?”
Pei Xi had asked on purpose—he knew Qiu Yu didn’t like discussing Chen Cebai in front of him.
Sure enough, Qiu Yu shot him a glare and said, slightly annoyed, “Why are you here? I have an interview at four. I don’t have time to deal with you.”
“I came because I knew you had an interview.” Pei Xi frowned slightly. “The person you’re going to interview is connected to several homeless disappearance cases, which has already caught the company’s attention. I have no idea what the higher-ups are thinking, sending you to do such dangerous work.”
Qiu Yu found the last sentence rather off-putting, but knowing that Pei Xi meant well, she didn’t get angry.
She was just about to tell Pei Xi to leave and turn around to find her car when, in the next second, she felt an icy, manic gaze watching her.
The “observer’s” stare was more invasive than ever before, pressing against her neck with an almost brazen sense of possession.
At that moment, a shiver ran down her spine, and she could even feel the weight of the observer’s gaze.
At the same time, the chime of incoming messages rang out in rapid succession.
Thinking it was a message from the observer, Qiu Yu frowned and opened her neural chip interface—only to find nothing there.
Then, as if suddenly realizing something, she turned her head.
Sure enough, Pei Xi’s eyes flickered with silver light as he stared at his chip interface in astonishment.
His pupils moved rapidly as he scrolled through the interface, muttering under his breath, “How is this possible…? How is this possible…?”
Qiu Yu called his name several times before he finally snapped out of it, his face pale. “My chip has been hacked. No matter what application I open, it all shows the same screen.”
Qiu Yu’s heart sank. “What screen? Project it.”
Pei Xi hesitated for a few seconds but eventually projected it.
No wonder he had hesitated.
Every application, every interface—even daily apps like weather and navigation—displayed the same repeating message.
Stay away from her.
Stay away from her.
Stay away from her.
……
The observer’s possessiveness over her had intensified.
Qiu Yu’s breath hitched.
Just then, a commotion erupted ahead—rushed footsteps, blaring car horns, the buzzing scans of police drones—spreading like oil hitting boiling water.
“Look at the billboards!”
“Oh my god… all the billboards have changed…”
“Who is she? Why does it say to stay away from her?”
Amid the chaos, Qiu Yu looked up.
In the heart of the city, every billboard, every holographic advertisement projection, even the neon signs—all had changed.
Using different colors, different orientations, and different thicknesses of neon tubes, they had all assembled to display the same sentence:
—Stay away from her.
It was as if this sentence was the only thing left in the world.
No one knew who this “her” referred to.
Even Pei Xi wasn’t entirely sure whether it was referring to Qiu Yu beside him.
Only Qiu Yu knew.
This “her” was undoubtedly her.
The observer did not allow Pei Xi to get close to her.
It was the first time Qiu Yu had ever seen such an eerie scene. Cold sweat seeped from her palms, sticky and clammy. Without thinking, she dialed a number.
A few seconds later, the call connected, and Chen Cebai’s calm, steady voice came through: “Qiu Yu?”
Qiu Yu took a deep breath, taking a long time to suppress the trembling in her breath before she finally spoke: “…Can you come pick me up?”
Chen Cebai didn’t ask anything—just like how he hadn’t asked why she had gotten lost back then.
“I’ll be there right away.”
The call ended.
Pei Xi looked at Qiu Yu, seemingly wanting to ask what was going on. But the moment he moved even slightly closer to her, the billboards and neon signs around them began flashing wildly in response.
In broad daylight, such a scene was beyond eerie, sending chills down the spine.
“…So it really is because of you,” Pei Xi said, his expression complex. “What exactly is going on?”
Qiu Yu shook her head. “I don’t know either.”
She closed her eyes and sent a message to the observer:
Are you crazy?
The observer did not reply. But she knew—“he” was still watching her.
Just as he always had.