A faint itch lingered, tickling at the edges of consciousness. Yan Chuan wanted to check for any serious injuries, but there were no mirrors in the villa. He had to cover his face with his hand, pretending that he had not been hurt at all.
No one spoke to him, and Yan Chuan had no desire to initiate conversation. He hung his head, lost in thought about his recent interaction with his “husband.”
Upon opening the door, he realized that the plot of harming his husband had come to fruition. The script he had prepared that called for turning over a new leaf was now useless; he could only stammer out clumsy answers to the questions posed by the “husbands.”
After rambling incoherently, it was his husband who requested, “Just give him a kiss.” At that moment, Yan Chuan’s mind went blank, and he kept pondering whether he had misheard. But in the next second, a familiar face loomed closer.
During the kiss, Yan Chuan managed to hear a few murmured words from his husband. One was, “I know.” The other was, “We are already a pair.”
As their lips met, Yan Chuan’s mind crashed; thoughts raced slowly, and he vaguely remembered what had been said, yet could not grasp its full meaning.
It wasn’t until he stepped out and sat in the hall that he found the space to ponder over what his husband had said. The first statement seemed to explain his earlier denial, but what about the second?
Yan Chuan furrowed his brow, contemplating. After a while, his mind was still blank, and he gave up on the thought.
Forget it, the punishment from the variety show had passed. Yan Chuan shook his head to clear his thoughts.
If he remembered correctly, this unique variety show format offered substantial rewards; completing it would yield a hefty 50,000 points. Coupled with the 25,000 points he had previously amassed through tasks, he now had a total of 75,000 points.
He needed just another 25,000 points to reach the target set by the escape variety show, which would roughly translate to three scripts.
If Yan Chuan chose high-level scripts, he would need to enter them fewer times, but the difficulty of the tasks would also increase. With such generous rewards, Yan Chuan felt a slight optimism about this special variety show.
However, it felt awkward noticing that most of the people sitting at the long table had been met before.
Thinking of this, Yan Chuan looked around, his gaze falling on the empty long table besides himself. They had entered the punishment chamber together; it had been over an hour since he exited, so surely the others wouldn’t be much longer?
Yan Chuan was troubled, oscillating between thoughts of what his husband had said and scrutinizing the corridor for any signs of others eventually exiting, all while pondering the perplexing question of why NPCs could appear as contestants in the real world.
The first two topics eluded him, compelling him to consider the latter.
Ke Li and Su clearly represented NPCs yet held contestant identities in the escape variety show; they even had identification numbers. Excluding the erroneous information intentionally fed by the variety show, it seemed they genuinely possessed contestant identities.
Did they become contestants before becoming NPCs, or the other way around?
Yan Chuan knitted his brow, mentally listing the two options. This question delved into how the escape variety show’s scripts were formed and whether the viewers in the livestream were real people.
Yan Chuan had only completed a few scripts, earning minimal points, and knew little about the escape variety show. He reluctantly placed this question aside for the moment.
However, he was certain of one thing: as NPCs, they still retained memories of their scripts while in contestant mode.
Yan Chuan didn’t think that was a good thing.
After letting his thoughts wander for a bit, he heard Dan Qi’s voice behind him.
“Did you clear it?” Dan Qi had bent over to check on him, pressing a hand on Yan Chuan’s shoulder to assess for injuries, asking him, “Are you hurt?”
The warmth and weight belonging to someone else settled on his shoulders, forcing Yan Chuan to tilt his head back. “No…”
As he spoke, he accidentally brushed against his slightly swollen lips, instinctively wrinkling his brow.
Under the light, his soft, rosy lips were slightly swollen, their color a shade deeper than before.
His small, plump lower lip seemed to have been kissed recently, glistening with a thin layer of moisture.
The teenager with black hair and fair skin, whose delicate features were slightly bruised, held a fragile countenance; even a slight touch left marks on his skin.
As he tilted his head upward, his small Adam’s apple nervously swallowed, leaving barely noticeable fingerprints.
Below were his exquisite collarbones, mostly concealed by his clothing, revealing just a tantalizing glimpse of their outline.
Due to the position of his head, the slender, beautiful youth slightly furrowed his brow, his lips parting slightly, their inner flesh seeming even more crimson.
His long, dark eyelashes fluttered, casting tiny shadows on his pale, clean cheeks, resembling a startled butterfly on the verge of taking flight.
His fragile shoulders trembled for reasons unknown, as if he wished to curl up but was restrained by the weight on them.
It wasn’t out of fear from experiencing something horrific in the punishment realm, but rather a bright, evident awkwardness and a hint of confusion.
His lips were reddened, and his pointed chin bore distinct marks belonging to someone else.
Clearly, someone had pulled him by the chin and kissed him.
It was likely that it wasn’t just a brief kiss.
This position was somewhat uncomfortable, and Yan Chuan frowned again.
He wanted to turn around and see what Dan Qi was experiencing, to check if he had been injured in the punishment world. But the position of tilting his head backward restricted his line of sight; he could only glimpse the upper half of Dan Qi’s face.
A droplet of water traced a path from his deeply set eyes down to his prominent nose.
With the light behind him, Dan Qi’s once lighter amber eyes appeared darker, taking on a color reminiscent of asphalt.
The irregular facets of the chandelier above cast shimmering light that converged into a golden lake.
Yan Chuan raised his hand slightly to shield his eyes.
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