Yan Chuan had no reason to leave home, and he wasn’t sure if his lover could see the messages he sent. He sat in the living room chair, anxiously glancing at the entrance, waiting as if for a judgment. The light was bright, yet he felt cold; his palms were slightly sweaty. During this tense wait, time dragged on painfully slowly. Yan Chuan kept an eye on the entrance while having casual conversations with his husband in the kitchen.
Taking advantage of a pause in conversation, he sneaked a glance at the time and realized that only about ten minutes had passed. Just ten minutes. Yet that was enough; his husband meeting a colleague meant the latter was already close to home.
Yan Chuan lowered his gaze to his pale palms. So, the next time the doorbell rang, it would be his husband and his lover appearing simultaneously, forcing him to make a choice? Either he chooses the lover, discards the husband, and rewrites the plot back to the apartment script, or he chooses the husband, firmly rejects the lover, telling him that he and his husband were in a very good relationship, asking him not to joke.
Yan Chuan felt overwhelmed. Although the previous script tasked him with absurd missions, it hadn’t reached the level of “husband or lover, that is the question.” Besides, he had no way to confirm what conditions he must meet to leave this place.
No wonder it was a punishment time; he didn’t even know which side he was on. Yan Chuan bit his lip and began to pray that something would go wrong for the “lover” on the way over, so he wouldn’t come.
However, things did not unfold as Yan Chuan hoped. Soon, the doorbell rang. Yan Chuan heard his husband in the kitchen ask in confusion, and then he adjusted his apron, preparing to go to the door.
There was no way Yan Chuan would let him see who was outside first. He stood up and hurried to the door, anxiously opening it.
But what awaited him was not a “lover”—
Instead, it was—
Chapter 93: Special Variety Show 9
The door opened slowly. Yan Chuan cautiously opened it just a small crack, enough for him to peek outside, without fully welcoming the person in. He reasoned that since his real husband was still in the kitchen, it was better to crack the door and send away the “lover,” telling him they would contact each other later.
Though there was a risk of exposure, it was better than awkwardly forcing his real husband and lover to confront each other.
In less than a minute, walking from the living room to the entrance, Yan Chuan had thought of many things. For example, whether the person outside was Su or Tang Zhen; they might be NPCs arranged in this punishment world…or someone else entirely?
Yan Chuan had no idea; all he could do was rummage through the scant information in his mind, searching for a way to solve the immediate problem.
With a soft click, the door opened.
Nervously, Yan Chuan peered through the slight opening.
Yet outside stood not a “lover,” but another familiar yet strange face.
Once he recognized who it was, Yan Chuan’s eyes widened in shock.
“What are you…?” he instinctively turned to glance back at the kitchen, catching sight of his husband busy cooking, murmuring this question.
At the door stood a tall man, handsome, giving Yan Chuan a familiar smile. With black hair and light gray eyes, broad shoulders, and long legs, it was the “husband” who had just been talking to him.
Even the subtle expressions matched perfectly.
His real husband had returned home, talked to him, and bizarrely appeared knocking at the door.
Even as Yan Chuan stared wide-eyed with surprise, the man frowned, using a casual tone to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you not feeling well?”
Yan Chuan held his breath, subconsciously releasing his grip on the doorframe.
The door was pushed open by the “husband” outside.
The man stepped inside effortlessly, casually holding a bag of fresh ingredients, looking exactly like the husband who had just spoken with Yan Chuan.
However, the busy man in the kitchen turned his head at that moment, raising his voice slightly to ask Yan Chuan: “Who’s here?”
A reminder tone from an old phone rang out, another message arrived.
Like the previous two messages from the same sender, Yan Chuan took out his phone and drafted a message indicating a breakup and returning to his family.
Without understanding why, Yan Chuan looked down and opened the message from his “lover.”
The message was brief, a single line, which caught Yan Chuan off guard.
“Breakup? Isn’t your husband already dead?”
【OMG, my darling’s husband is really a dead husband!】
【How nerve-wracking!】
【LOL, can he single-handedly complete the mixed-wife task! Lucky you!】
【My gosh, Yan’s husband truly is a self-splitting dead husband, very self-managing!】
This scene unfolded in an instant.
Yan Chuan mechanically turned his head.
He stood in the freshly cleaned living room, momentarily bewildered.
Because he had triggered the punishment mechanism in the spinning wheel game, entering the disciplinary door at the end of the corridor, he encountered the real husband in the apartment script that he had “caused to die.”
In this place, the real husband hadn’t died; Yan Chuan still had the chance to save things. He just needed to refuse the lover’s request to conspire and harm, cutting off communication with the lover to resolve the situation.
Or he could wait for the lover’s appearance to determine just what kind of situation this was and how he should act to fulfill the punishment task of escaping from the variety show.
But—
Despite all his calculations, Yan Chuan never anticipated that when he entered, the real “husband” had already died.
So the person he met was… a husband who had already turned into a ghost?
Upon close examination, the “husband” indeed looked pale, and his body temperature abnormal.
Nothing was out there, yet his “husband” still brought back food meant for ingredients.
[…] Previous post 0 0 votes Article Rating […]