Pretend to be crazy

What did he say to you?”

Ruan Zhixian casually dragged a chair over and placed it next to Warren. It was hot, so he unbuttoned two buttons, looking intrigued as he asked, “Did he, like with me, hide his true intentions under the guise of casual affection, talking about love and desire while not caring about anything at all?”

He revealed a subtle smile, though it was unclear whether it was aimed at the motionless beast on the ground or something else.

“Do you really believe the story he told you?”

The room was in disarray. Just moments ago, Warren had been wreaking havoc, but now he lay weakly on the floor, his muscles limp. His recovery speed couldn’t keep up with the rate at which he was dissolving, and a growl like that of a beast rumbled from his throat as he glared fiercely at the young man who was unharmed.

Ruan Zhixian raised his hands in a gesture of no aggression. “No other intentions, just curious.”

Warren, gritting his teeth, continued to stare at him. After trying and failing to get up, he suddenly laughed.

“You’re jealous of me, right?” Warren’s internal organs, also affected by the drugs, were kept in a state where he wouldn’t die but was incredibly uncomfortable. Swallowing the blood in his mouth, he sneered.

“He calls me his husband, kisses me, says he loves me. And you? Is our beautiful love so painful for you to watch? You think a few words from you can drive a wedge between me and him? You think you can take my place?”

“Dream on!”

Ruan Zhixian calmly watched him. The look in his eyes made Warren feel a coldness more terrifying than death. With a furious shout, he demanded, “Speak!”

“Self-deception, stubbornness,” Ruan Zhixian sighed and slowly shook his head. “Pathetic.”

Warren sneered. “You don’t know anything.”

Ruan Zhixian didn’t respond, his eyes lowering as he absentmindedly traced the small wounds on his fingers, left by the little dog. The dog’s teeth weren’t as sharp as a knife or a blade, so the cuts weren’t clean. The surrounding skin was bruised and tender, and pressing on it caused a dull pain, though there was also a strange itch.

After a strange silence, he looked back at Warren with a smile in his eyes that Warren couldn’t quite understand.

“Actually, we’re all deceived victims—”

Before Warren could retort, Ruan Zhixian continued, “Don’t rush to deny it. I’ll show you the truth.”

He opened his terminal and dialed a communication to Shen Yan.

He didn’t trap Shen Yan; in fact, he was considerate enough to have the latest terminal sent to him, along with a backup of his communication messages and contacts, in case he couldn’t continue playing the game.

Warren’s attack had been expected, but with so little to work with, it was clear Warren had to play his cards early.

If he won the bet, he would die, and the game would be over; if he lost…

Ruan Zhixian wasn’t sure what other surprises Shen Yan might have in store for him.

After all, this was his game.

If everyone was like Warren, it would get pretty boring.

Ruan Zhixian and Warren stared at the ringing video call, the beeping sound growing louder. Warren’s heart raced, and he felt sick to his stomach.

When the call automatically ended after no one answered, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.

He trusted Shen Yan.

But he was also genuinely afraid that, just as Ruan Zhixian had said, Shen Yan might indeed be a master at weaving stories, a liar.

Ruan Zhixian saw his reaction but didn’t comment further. Instead, he used his terminal to send a message about the situation aboard the ship, saying in a detached tone:

“Out of sympathy for our shared plight, I won’t kill you. Wait for me to send someone, and you’ll go with him. As for Brother…”

He quickly flashed a smile, “I’ll bring him to meet you.”

Warren closed his eyes, breathing heavily.

Ruan Zhixian hadn’t left yet.

The core members of the ship’s activities had highly confidential discussions, and in order to ensure their safety, they had set up a one-time-use security system.

But when Warren attacked them, they hadn’t reacted quickly enough, and only after he left did the system activate.

Now, this corridor had turned into a cage, only able to be opened from the outside, trapping those inside.

Ruan Zhixian closed his eyes to rest, his fingers tapping rhythmically.

Warren, half-dead, had lost this round. It was too easy, and he’d already guessed the outcome. It felt boring.

But hopefully, later…

Suddenly, the sound of machinery starting interrupted Ruan Zhixian’s thoughts.

He frowned, sensing something wasn’t right.

The message had just been sent—there was no way they could have arrived this quickly.

Was it Liu Dan and the others bringing reinforcements?

No, that didn’t make sense either. After seeing the brutality of the experimental subjects, they wouldn’t easily lift the security system without proper preparation.

He had shown his value, which had been enough for Liu Dan to bring him to the meeting, but it wasn’t enough to make them risk their lives to save him.

Moreover, he was powerless, and in their eyes, the only possible outcome for him was death.

His eyelids twitched. He pressed down on his eyes hard.

The hurried footsteps grew louder, and the lead team member charged in without any guard, immediately noticing Ruan Zhixian and the unconscious experimental subject. A look of surprise appeared on their face.

It seemed they had known what had happened inside, as there was no trace of fear or caution.

“Thank you so much, sir, for cooperating with us to capture the experimental subject!”

The security team member saluted him, and the others rushed forward to carry Warren out.

Warren was not in immediate danger, as his identity as an experimental subject was enough to protect him for now. They could always come back for him later.

Ruan Zhixian, along with the senior officials from District 7, was surrounded by the security team. One of them checked on his condition and, seeing that he was unable to fight back, relaxed completely. They then turned to look at Ruan Zhixian with gratitude and admiration.

Ruan Zhixian remained expressionless.

Liu Dan was the first to approach. The team members, trying to put on their best face, straightened up in front of her, but she and the others only had eyes for Ruan Zhixian.

Liu Dan, still with some lingering fear, said, “If it weren’t for you, many more would have died.”

“Yeah, we ran into the security team on the way here. We were coming to rescue you, but it seems the monster had already been dealt with by you.”

“I noticed you don’t have any mechanical enhancements. Did you know about the experimental subjects beforehand and prepare in advance?”

“Such foresight for a young person. Liu Dan, you have good judgment.”

“Would you like to come work with me?”

“Isn’t it a little inappropriate to poach someone right in front of me?”

“Hahahaha…”

With the thorn in their side now gone, everyone felt at ease after the life-threatening ordeal. The atmosphere was warm and friendly.

But amidst the praise, Ruan Zhixian’s face grew darker with each compliment.

His communication device beeped with a message from Shen Yan.

[Big hero, are you happy?]

[:) ]

Shen Yan didn’t receive a reply from Ruan Zhixian.

It wasn’t surprising.

He probably was angry.

Although this guy was moody, with an unstable mental state, if you analyzed it closely, he was still human, and his behavior had a traceable logic.

He had an overwhelming desire to control everything, hated losing control, yet found psychological stimulation in the chaos that loss brought.

He had previously commented in a forum that Ruan Zhixian was both a sadist and a masochist, which had received agreement from many fans.

Ruan Zhixian wasn’t trying to be a hero, and he never cared what others thought of him. What mattered to him was being forced to accept others’ praise and be seen as their hero.

And the one forcing him into the role of a hero was Shen Yan, whom he thought had already lost.

When Ruan Zhixian’s communication came in, Shen Yan knew that Warren hadn’t killed him. With some regret, he had no choice but to activate his backup plan.

He couldn’t let Ruan Zhixian return disappointed.

After showering, he lay on his bed, wearing Ruan Zhixian’s clothes. Now, instead of cramming into the rooms of servants and stowaways, he was resting in the luxurious CEO VIP suite with the little freak.

The communication kept buzzing—it was from the security team members he had bribed.

**[You wait!]

**[Didn’t you arrange everything? You said the monster was half-dead and that person would just cooperate with me to finish it off. When I got there, the monster was practically dead, and those big shots aren’t blind—I looked like a fool hopping around in front of them!]

[Anyway, you’re dead for sure!]

Shen Yan casually blocked the number, played some online games with the little freak, and when it was almost bedtime, sent Ruan Zhixian another message.

[Do you know where you lost?]

He waited for a bit. When he didn’t get a response from Ruan Zhixian, he didn’t push it further and went to sleep.

The next morning, he woke up naturally to find it was just after 6 AM.

Falson, who had been arranged to sleep in another bed in the suite, somehow had climbed into his bed during the night and was now entangled with him like an octopus.

Shen Yan pushed him, but it didn’t work—he only hugged him tighter.

Too lazy to get up or move, Shen Yan yawned, copied the message from yesterday, and sent it again to Ruan Zhixian.

[Do you know where you lost?]

This time, Ruan Zhixian replied quickly with just a question mark.

Shen Yan mimicked the voice of an AI: [Do you know where you lost?]

[What do you think, brother?]

Shen Yan chuckled.

[Do you know where you lost?]

There was a pause on the other end before Ruan Zhixian responded: [Brother, I’m at 422, or should I come find you?]

That sounded a bit threatening.

Shen Yan opened the camera and aimed it at himself, recording both him and Falson, who was pretending to sleep beside him.

“Falson, wake up.”

Falson, with sleepy eyes, stretched and leaned against Shen Yan’s shoulder.

“Brother, you’re up so early.”

Shen Yan smelled the fresh lemon scent from his body. In the video, he looked clean and beautiful, his lips red and teeth white, like an angel from Eden.

But this angel had a dark heart, and instead of playing a harp, he liked to wield deadly weapons that could easily decapitate someone.

Shen Yan pressed the record button, affectionately ruffling his hair.

Falson didn’t know what Shen Yan was doing, but he eagerly cooperated with this affectionate act, squinting his eyes and enjoying the moment.

Always good at reading the situation, Falson leaned in to kiss him on the cheek.

After the kiss, he casually glanced at the camera.

There was a hint of arrogant provocation in his eyes.

Shen Yan stopped recording, played back the video, and made sure it clearly displayed the close relationship between the two before sending it to Ruan Zhixian.

[The second game starts at 12:30 PM today.]

Falson leaned closer, covering Shen Yan’s eyes with his hand, his expression dark and his voice soft but tinged with grievance.

“Brother, you’re smiling so happily. Who are you messaging?”

Shen Yan’s eyelashes brushed against his palm as he smiled faintly and said, “You’ll meet him soon.”

“Falson, I need you to do me a favor. At 12:30 this afternoon, go to the entrance of room 422, and then…”

“Oh, go find him,” Falson interrupted, his voice much softer, sniffling, “Mom, I’m still a minor.”

With his other hand on Shen Yan’s chest, his index finger lifted, the tip silently shifting, the skin covered by metal, and a cold, sharp, poison-coated knife hung at Shen Yan’s neck, but Shen Yan remained oblivious.

“I’m afraid of pain. Please, don’t be so heartless, okay?”

Shen Yan paused for a few seconds, then yanked his hand away, nearly tumbling off the bed in panic as he stood by the edge, staring at him in shock and shouting, “How could you think like this?”

He was angry, but that anger was mixed with emotions he couldn’t understand.

He took a deep breath, sat next to him, and patted his shoulder. “Falson, I can’t change the past, but I promise that now and in the future, you won’t be forced to do such things again.”

Falson blinked, a strange emotion swelling inside him. It felt as if his heart had been brushed by a feather, suddenly soft and warm.

The warmth of Shen Yan’s hand lingered on his shoulder, and it spread throughout his body, eventually taking over his mind, leaving him dizzy and staring at Shen Yan.

He heard himself ask, “So, what do you want me to… do?”

“I want you to go and keep an eye on him. If he asks about me, don’t answer. Three days later, when the game is over, you can come back.”

Shen Yan paused, then added, “He won’t force you to do anything. Just stay by his side for these three days.”

Under the influence of that subtle emotion, Falson nodded without thinking.

“Okay—” he looked at Shen Yan’s loose clothing, suddenly waking up, and then said:

“Mom, I can endure the pain of being away from you to complete the mission. When I come back, can I get a little reward?”

He lowered his head, clutching his fingers tightly, quickly adding, “Of course, it’s my honor to do things for you, Mom. I’ve gotten used to having nothing. As long as I can stay by your side, I’ll be happy!”

A clever retreat strategy, mixed with a touch of innocent pitifulness, was far more effective than a knife—it softened Mom’s heart.

As expected, Shen Yan didn’t refuse, and gently asked, “What reward do you want?”

Falson’s heart raced as he tentatively touched Shen Yan’s hand, pulling it to his face, using the purest, most harmless expression, shyly saying:

“Mom, can I have just one bite?”

“Just one, a small one, please?”

Shen Yan:…

Shen Yan: “Okay.”

Shen Yan quietly watched him, who was overjoyed, struggling to maintain his pitiful persona.

If the plan went smoothly, Falson would be tamed by Ruan Zhixian, losing interest in him, and this promise would become a distant hope.

He only told him to come back; he never said he would return to his side.

The promise was meant to be looked at, not eaten.

At 12:30 p.m., Ruan Zhixian opened the door to find a sullen-faced boy standing outside.

The same one from the video yesterday.

The two exchanged glances.

Ruan Zhixian: “Yi?”

Falson had previously disguised himself during the arena matches, altering his nose and eyes, but now all that was washed away. The cool aura had diminished, and his black-dyed hair made him appear gentle and harmless.

Ruan Zhixian’s expression was somewhat strange.

Shen Yan was truly unpredictable.

He could call the towering Warren his husband without hesitation and could also casually embrace Falson, someone who looked like a green tea type, without a second thought.

What exactly did he like?

Or maybe he didn’t like anything at all.

Falson didn’t introduce himself to him and walked straight into the room, surveying his territory. He found a comfortable spot, threw down the bag that Shen Yan had prepared for him, and sat up straight, staring at Ruan Zhixian.

Ruan Zhixian poured him a glass of hot milk, ignored him, and pondered Shen Yan’s intentions.

It wasn’t hard to figure out.

First, he asked where he had failed, but received no answer, so he immediately started the second round of the game.

The second round was related to his previous defeat.

Shen Yan’s understanding of him was far more thorough than his understanding of Shen Yan.

He knew what he disliked, but his reasoning about him seemed completely absurd and unfounded.

He couldn’t even figure out what kind of person Shen Yan liked.

With this information in hand, combined with his excellent control over the situation, from the moment Warren burst into the room, whether he died or not, he hadn’t really won.

He leaned back on the couch, watching his reflection on the ceiling.

So, this game had to do with the information gap?

The videos were sent to stimulate his brain.

But actually, they were just meant to tell him that this little brat was his messenger.

An obvious tactic.

Luring him to investigate Shen Yan’s vague presence, to uncover his purpose.

He had never played the game.

Ruan Zhixian smiled lightly, finally giving Falson, who clearly disliked him, a meaningful look.

Falson coldly retorted, “What are you looking at?”

Ruan Zhixian replied slowly, “Shen Yan mentioned you to me.”

Falson’s expression shifted.

Ruan Zhixian continued, “He said you two have a little secret that shouldn’t be told to me.”

Falson’s expression shifted again.

A secret?

The reward?

It was indeed a secret.

If everyone started asking Shen Yan for things like this, the consequences would be unimaginable.

Falson bristled, his defenses up. “Stop talking to me.”

Ruan Zhixian was even more convinced that he had guessed the answer correctly.

He lifted his glass and clinked it with Falson’s milk cup, then continued, “You two have a good relationship. He also said… Never mind, I’ll keep quiet.”

He paused, leisurely sipping his drink as though he had no intention of continuing.

Falson narrowed his eyes, easily seeing through his tactic.

He was also a schemer. He had used a similar trick on Shen Yan this morning—an overly blunt retreat-to-advance tactic, trying to coax out information with little skill.

He knew he shouldn’t listen; this man gave off a dangerous vibe.

But…

What would Mom think of him? Would she praise him for being obedient?

Thinking about how Shen Yan, despite appearing harsh, secretly spoke highly of him to others made him happy beyond control.

Just listening, would it be fine if he didn’t answer anything this ugly man asked?

Falson: “Tell me everything you know. Thanks.”

Bald-headed Kato didn’t expect there to be any further developments regarding the hacker.

The hacker had him bring on a crew member, someone who seemed like an ordinary waiter, but mysteriously, influential figures like Liu Dan and Shang were very close to him.

Not only that, but it seemed that other managers from District 7 were also showing him special attention.

Why?

The more powerful they were, the more they fawned over him. These people seemed so high and mighty, but their ability to lick up to others was something even Kato, as a businessman, couldn’t match.

So, this guy must be extraordinary.

Kato was eager to get closer to them, but if he acted too overtly, it would attract disdain.

So he had to wait patiently for the right opportunity.

When he saw the hacker’s message about the situation in the Fifth District, he encouraged himself inwardly with passion.

—Opportunity! Only those who are prepared will seize it!

Look! Here it was!

The Fifth District project was out of his reach, but many people, even with money in hand, couldn’t find a way in. Now, the hacker had just handed him the information openly. The meaning was clear.

[What do you want me to do?]

[Go keep an eye on someone for three days. No matter what he says, don’t investigate him, don’t reveal any information about Ruan Zhixian.]

It was a simple task.

Kato was shocked after reading it.

Such a small thing could exchange information worth more than billions?

It was like a pie falling from the sky!

He eagerly agreed and then handed the task the hacker gave him to someone else.

He didn’t tell him to do it himself.

His status wasn’t suitable for such low-level work.

Shen Yan was surrounded.

At 2:30 p.m., after sending Falson off, he felt refreshed and went to the restaurant for a meal. He had barely eaten for a while when a tall, muscular man in a sharp suit approached him.

The man wore sunglasses, was meticulously dressed, said nothing except for his name, “Gen,” and stood silently, very cool, within three meters of Shen Yan.

When Shen Yan went to the bathroom, the man stood outside the door, his upright figure reflected in the glass window, like a bathroom guardian.

Shen Yan was utterly speechless and couldn’t help but wonder.

Could it be that Ruan Zhixian saw through his little trick?

Did he know that he didn’t want to participate in the second round of the game and that sending Falson away was just a way to escape quickly?

He remained calm.

He hoped not.