Trapped in a room, most players were unaware of his existence, leaving him to find ways to save himself or hope someone would discover him. People passed by in the hallway every day, but he couldn’t call for help. He also had to face terrifying NPCs. Yan Chuan still didn’t understand the rules of escaping the variety show; if it were entirely random, relying purely on luck… that would be too unfortunate.
His gaze swept over the room’s chaotic decorations and the dust-covered floor, his brow furrowing tighter.
“He’s a contestant,” suddenly, warm breath brushed against Yan Chuan’s ear as Tang Zhen leaned in closer. “By some unfortunate chance, he’s been assigned this identity. It’s likely he’s mute, which is why he can’t call for help.”
Yan Chuan’s earlobe flushed, his small, pale earlobe usually hidden in his hair, slightly sensitive. The heat made him blush, as red as if he were bleeding. Tang Zhen was too close; not only his earlobes but also his neck felt the warmth. Yan Chuan shrank back uncomfortably.
Yet Tang Zhen seemed oblivious, continuing to whisper in his ear.
“He appears in Room Five,” a slender beam of light highlighted Tang Zhen’s prominent brow bone, casting a faint shadow over his nose. “He’s locked in and unable to get out. What do you think his identity could be?”
In a flash, Yan Chuan thought of An Wen and Liang Xin.
Liang Xin’s identity was that of a petty hoodlum who deceived students, bringing his tricked girlfriend to the Thirteenth Apartment, a low-rent housing complex. The low cost and high turnover made it a good hideout. Far from the bustling city, even if the deceived girlfriend realized something was wrong, she may not know where to escape.
But what if Liang Xin’s contact in the script also lived here? If he lured her under the guise of eloping, it would be inefficient and overly complicated.
In a spark of insight, Yan Chuan’s mind flashed with a possible thought, but it was too subtle, like a match flickering in the dark—briefly illuminating before snuffing out.
“This household is…” Yan Chuan’s lips moved slightly, his voice delicate as dew on a branch, shattering at the slightest touch. “Is it where Liang Xin’s trafficker is?”
Tang Zhen subtly nodded.
Yan Chuan’s eyelashes fluttered.
If the residents of Room Five were traffickers, and Liang Xin was the one deceiving others, then they were collaborating together. If An Wen received the identity of the tricked victim, could there have been others who were not sold before?
“Then the one in the pipeline…” Yan Chuan bit his lip, his lower lip turning pale as he hesitated. “Were they also brought here by them?”
He understood that traffickers primarily targeted children; the younger ones lacked the means to protect themselves and could be more easily brainwashed by buyers. However, some kids with strong resistance might be dealt with harshly.
Was that child one of them?
Kidnapped, aware of being sold off, trying to escape and resist. But he was just a child, incapable of breaking free from the traffickers’ control. If he attempted to call for help verbally, he could lose his tongue. If he tried to run, he might end up locked away in a room.
Having finally found a chance to escape, he ran through the low-rent housing, passing by every household that could potentially save him, only to leave in hopeless disappointment.
One after another, people passed by. He thought he could hide, trembling in a corner, praying not to be discovered.
But he was just too small, a child with poor stamina. He couldn’t elude a group of adults and was quickly found.
With a loathsome expression, an adult grasped his hair, cursing him for causing trouble.
When the child was dragged out from the corner, he must have been terrified, desperately seeking help from anyone nearby.
But there probably wasn’t a single resident in the low-rent housing who would come to his aid.
The door was wide open, indistinct faces conversed, and the adult grabbing him could smile and claim he was their child, saying he would be punished for being disobedient.
He could only watch helplessly as he was taken back to that room.
Then he disappeared in the Thirteenth Apartment…
Yan Chuan locked eyes with Tang Zhen.
Tang Zhen nodded slightly, seemingly about to say something, but the sound of dragging chains suddenly grew louder.
Yan Chuan’s thoughts were interrupted as he unconsciously glanced into the room.
His face was hidden behind the pipeline, only a pair of clear, shimmering eyes visible, their lashes fluttering in the shadow.
The person in the room shifted their body, awkwardly positioning themselves towards the ventilation shaft.
The chain was short, restricting his movement, leaving him to twist his head awkwardly.
Yan Chuan met a pair of hollow, lifeless eyes.
The dark, purplish lips quivered twice, producing short, raspy sounds.
Yan Chuan’s heart sank.
He truly couldn’t speak.
***
As night fell, the tall man was still dressed in formal attire, even the bowtie perfectly in place, looking as if he was returning home from work.
He had high cheekbones, deep-set eyes, and was quite handsome. But his brow often bore an unshakeable gloom, and his gaze was indifferent and cold.
Simply based on appearance, one could conclude, “This is a very dangerous person.”
Yet as the man stood at the apartment door, taking out his keys to unlock it, the corners of his lips unexpectedly curled into a smile, a seemingly genuine joy reaching his eyes.
It was as if opening this door would grant him sight of something incredibly precious.
“You’re back?” Yan Chuan heard the door open and instinctively walked to the entrance, his voice soft and melodic, “Husband.”
He had already changed into long-sleeved pajamas, not revealing even a bit of his wrist. Only his long, slender neck was exposed, leaving a curve that sparked imagination.
Looking up, one could see a lovely, pale face framed by soft locks falling gently. His eyes were moist, the thin eyelids covered with a layer of rosy powder.
Standing on tiptoes, he naturally wrapped his arms around the man’s neck, his pinkish lips bestowing a light kiss on his husband’s cheek.