Round One (03)
Shen Huai’s piercing gaze landed instantly, accompanied by a casual flick of his wrist. Si Jiu felt a surge of scorching, radiant energy suddenly rush into the mirror. Agonizing pain! So intense she nearly dissipated entirely!
A sharp crack sounded from the bronze mirror, a fine fracture appearing on its surface.
“Damn it!”
If Si Jiu had a physical form, she would surely have spat blood at that moment.
“Shen Xiaohuai! You’re something else! Just you wait, sister won’t let this go!” she gritted out, teeth clenched.
Shen Huai merely glanced over, witnessing the indistinct, elusive spirit within the mirror being scattered, then shifted his focus back to “Tang You.”
Every item in this room, from the bed to the smallest mirror, had been painstakingly collected by him—each saturated with deep, yin spirit energy, all to nourish “Tang You’s” body.
With the room’s formation and the infusion of his own blood, “Tang You’s” corpse could be preserved for a hundred years without decay or stiffening. Apart from the absence of breath, heartbeat, and warmth, and her pallid complexion, she appeared little different from someone merely asleep.
Objects rich in yin energy either gained spirits over many years or bore lingering souls of the departed. Whatever the source, Shen Huai would never allow them to disturb “Tang You’s” peace.
Si Jiu discovered she was once again immobilized, her ethereal sense of floating even more uncertain.
She glared resentfully at the canopy bed—uncertain whether her bitterness stemmed from being struck by someone she once liked, or from witnessing Shen Huai’s extreme tenderness toward “Tang You.” It felt like the cabbage she’d painstakingly cultivated had run off to feed the pig!
In short… she was exceptionally, infuriatingly unhappy.
She watched helplessly as Shen Huai cradled “Tang You,” whispering softly through most of the night; then watched as he sliced his wrist, feeding her several mouthfuls of blood; and finally watched as he held “Tang You” contentedly, falling asleep with her in his arms.
Si Jiu: Cardiac arrest!
Si Jiu hadn’t slept at all. Though Shen Huai’s attack left her aching, scattered, and adrift, she felt no exhaustion—only pain.
The sensation was novel to her.
The first time she entered this world, she was like a pig who could never sleep enough. The second time, she became a ghost who never needed sleep.
What kind of absurd character setting was this?
She wanted to tear down the Bureau.
Si Jiu spent the whole night watching.
Then, she saw Shen Huai rise, gently kiss “Tang You’s” forehead, carefully tuck her in and lower the gauzy canopy, before wheeling himself out of the room.
Si Jiu: Myocardial infarction!
The room remained eternally dim. With Shen Huai gone—the only living soul—Si Jiu had no sense of how much time had passed.
Bored, she stared blankly from the mirror, speculating about how the plot unfolded after her “departure.”
According to the employee handbook, the staff of the Cheat Department usually entered the world and met the male lead early on—either at the start of the story or before the main plot began.
This was to prevent excessive involvement from altering the world’s storyline and—since they were “cheats”—to ensure the male lead received his most important asset as early as possible.
To prevent employees from knowing too much about the main plot and thereby interfering or causing the narrative to collapse, staff in the Cheat Department were forbidden from learning detailed information about the male lead’s storyline.
So, Si Jiu had no idea what Shen Huai’s main plot was.
But his basic identity was clear, and she could easily guess his ultimate fate: he would become a successful tycoon, build his formidable business empire, and ascend to the pinnacle of society.
It couldn’t possibly be this—such a bizarre and unsettling situation.
With the story this derailed, the world would eventually collapse.
Si Jiu could only frown.
She didn’t wish to see Shen Huai’s world destroyed and erased.
After all, it was her first official mission world.