Chapter 40: Revealing Secrets

The inability to make mistakes also means he cannot find any clues. He needs to find an opportunity to check on the family in Room Five, preferably in the next few days. Yan Chuan made his decision. But should he go alone?

He touched his empty right hand, recalling the cold feeling of the revival card, and hesitated. The props were valuable; they should not be used unless absolutely necessary. He needed to be more careful. Moreover, there was still Zhou Wu, a fellow contestant in Room Five. After his cooperation proposal was rejected during their first meeting, there had been no further contact; everything appeared normal on the surface.

How could he so quickly return to a calm facade after showing so much fear? Yan Chuan found himself wavering. The survival variety show operated almost like an immersive script, providing only the necessary identity information and pushing contestants to explore the storyline through tasks, with survival marking the end of the script. Contestants not only had to maintain their personas but also faced the dangers they encountered. One could say that, from the moment identities were assigned, participants’ fates were almost sealed.

The more clues they sought and the more they learned about their roles’ outcomes, the greater the despair. Zhou Wu likely attempted to rally contestants after realizing his “death method,” though ultimately his efforts failed. So, why had he become so quiet?

This train of thought made Room Five seem even more suspicious.

Suddenly, a knock on the door interrupted Yan Chuan’s thoughts.

“Who is it?” he called, moving to the door and peering through the peephole.

A voice replied from outside, “It’s me.”

Yan Chuan saw Tang Zhen’s handsome face adorned with a gentle smile and hesitated slightly. What did he want?

Tang Zhen said, “I brought a new score I wrote and wanted to play it for you.”

Playing the piano, huh? Yan Chuan remembered Tang Zhen’s background: an unemployed drifter living in a low-rent apartment, and a former bar musician. He hesitated but eventually opened the door.

He hadn’t expected there would be so many tasks in this survival show. Sure enough, Tang Zhen had brought his guitar and a stack of sheet music manuscripts.

Yan Chuan glanced at the scores lying on the coffee table. Of course, he could not understand them; anyway, they were merely for maintaining his persona, so it didn’t matter if he understood them or not.

Thus, he poured a glass of water for Tang Zhen and sat opposite him. “A new song? I’m honored.”

Tang Zhen smiled and casually strummed a couple of notes, producing a clear sound from the guitar. “Yes, I finished this piece last night.”

He didn’t elaborate further, diving straight into the music. After adjusting his grip, he began to play from the sheet music.

The melody was quite soothing, flowing like a gentle stream—entwined and tender. It poured from Tang Zhen’s fingertips as he plucked the strings.

Although Yan Chuan was not well-versed in sheet music, he could tell this was a gentle love song.

With his warm and handsome appearance, Tang Zhen’s demeanour was like polished jade. He was gentle and reserved, always smiling slightly, and genuinely listening to others, which easily inspired trust.

In a survival reality show filled with danger, being treated kindly was a remarkable thing. If someone were a clueless newcomer, they might break down in tears, desperately seeking protection.

Yan Chuan’s gaze lowered.

Tang Zhen, with his eyes half-lowered, was focused intently on the score. Noticing Yan Chuan’s gaze, he smiled at him.

Yan Chuan felt an indescribable awkwardness in the atmosphere.

He had just returned from a chaotic endeavor—and even before he had a chance to rest for long, Tang Zhen knocked on his door to play.

In the quiet living room, bright sunlight streamed through the windows, casting dappled shadows on the clean floor. Ignoring the strange setting, there was an inexplicable warmth in the air.

Yet their identities were mismatched; one was someone’s husband, the other a drifter.

It was quite strange.

“Your lips seem a bit red,” Tang Zhen remarked during a pause, his gaze landing on Yan Chuan’s lower lip, his voice laced with concern. “They look a bit swollen.”

Do they?

Yan Chuan instinctively touched his lower lip, feeling it slightly warm and tinged with a subtle itch.

Tang Zhen’s gaze was focused there.

His fingers were slender, resembling white porcelain. The nails were neatly rounded, and the tips glowed with a hint of rosy flush, like an exquisite artwork. The lips, however, bore a deeper hue, vibrant and succulent.

His lower lip was somewhat swollen, small, delicate beads resting on top. The lower lip, in particular, was strikingly vivid.

It looked as though it had been coaxed and pressed by someone else’s mouth—perhaps a result of urgency and forceful caresses, leaving such traces on his soft lips.

One could almost imagine the scene that unfolded then.

A much stronger man embracing the beautiful wife, fingers brushing the delicate chin, effortlessly overpowering any struggles beneath his palm.

The pale, thin fingers found no grip and could only clutch at the rough fabric, only to be tightly held in a powerful grasp.

Their sizes and strength were too disparate; thus, even gentle kisses could carry an air of force. Having no means to resist, those slender, pale wrists merely borrowed a bit of strength from the man’s shoulder.

What expression would Yan Chuan have shown then? Would he appear shy or wronged? Given his nature, would his face flush the moment his lips were brushed, his earlobes reddening to his neck?

However, Tang Zhen was curious about who had done this to him.

Was it Yan Chuan’s legitimate “husband,” openly giving him a lingering kiss when leaving in the morning, or was it his lover meeting secretly in the absence of a husband?

Yan Chuan’s eyelashes suddenly fluttered.

It was a mark left behind while he was with Shan Qi…

He was fierce, and clumsy in his movements, only knowing how to press people into submission; it was a feat just not to break the skin.

The evidence was too evident. Even though Tang Zhen’s words were gentle and his attitude polite, Yan Chuan felt acutely uncomfortable.