Based on the recent encounter, Yan Chuan has already confirmed that the shadow in front of him is likely the same being that has been fixated on him since the first day, with intricate ties to his identity.
The shadow remains in a humanoid form, yet it is invisible and possesses an exceptionally cold body temperature. Although it seems overly aggressive, it still appears capable of communication.
“You…” Yan Chuan spoke hesitantly, “Are you my… husband?”
As soon as he uttered these words, Yan Chuan distinctly felt the temperature in the bedroom drop even lower. It seemed as though something in the darkness was continuously eroding, expanding and overlapping. His inquiry incensed the shadow, provoking a particularly strong reaction from it.
Wrapped in the blanket, Yan Chuan felt nothing else, except for the penetrating gaze from the shadow, which felt almost tangible as if it could pierce through the blanket and see directly onto his body.
He shrank deeper into the covers.
But what did the shadow’s reaction mean? Was it the embarrassment of a lover being mistaken for a husband, or was it anger that he only now recognized himself as the one?
Yan Chuan pondered the shadow’s peculiarity. This NPC had done outrageous things to him since the moment he entered this scenario, particularly the first night when it took advantage of a “ghost pressing” incident. The second incident also felt unfair, as if there was a conspiracy with a counterfeit outside to torment him.
This time it escalated even further, as it actively tore at his clothes…
How dog-like.
Yan Chuan felt a slight dampness on his chest; the originally flat curve had swollen a bit, and the soft fabric of his sleepwear grazed against it, causing an itch.
It also hurt a bit—he probably had some swelling.
It was as if he had been licked by a particularly ill-behaved dog.
Furrowing his brows, Yan Chuan cautiously tugged at his sleepwear to avoid more fabric rubbing against him.
The shadow remained silent.
Yan Chuan was unsure if it was because it could not speak or for another reason, but after waiting for a while, he still received no answer.
However, this reaction… His gaze shifted towards the edge of the bed, where a “man” half-sat, silently and conflictedly watching him.
Could this person be his true husband?
Knowing his name would allow him to complete the second question posed by the escape game.
“Is it really not you…?”
The beautiful person, wrapped in the blanket and hiding in the corner of the bed, suddenly spoke, his voice tinged with a barely detectable sob.
His tone was soft, a bit hoarse, as if he had been crying for a long time, fragile.
His half-long strands of hair fell down, partially hiding his snow-white cheeks. The pointed chin rested against his knees, with even the corners of his eyes damp.
Crying?
The shadow paused, hesitatingly extending a hand, seemingly wanting to wipe away his tears.
But before the gesture was completed, the hand froze mid-air, abruptly halted, and the other hand harshly struck down on the unwittingly extended hand.
If anyone could have seen the shadow’s posture, they would likely have been unable to suppress their laughter.
It was incredibly awkward.
“Are you still blaming me?”
Despite Yan Chuan not being able to see it, the beautiful person’s voice had shifted from a sob to a choked cry, his fluttering lashes threatening to spill a tear at any moment.
He trembled violently, his shoulders appearing especially frail. Biting his lip tightly, the color drained from his lips, making them pale.
His pointed chin accentuated his gauntness, yet he tenaciously clutched the blanket, unwilling to let himself cry.
The shadow’s hesitation grew more pronounced.
“I did not…” the beautiful person choked, attempting to defend himself but abruptly pausing, slowly turning his face away.
Did he mean there was nothing?
The shadow couldn’t help but feel anxious, yet Yan Chuan could not see its expression, leaving it to feel like a hot ant on a boiling pot, moving restlessly.
Fortunately, the beautiful person remained understanding. He wiped the corner of his eye as if to dry his tears.
“I miss you so much…”
He bit his lip, his voice very low: “I’ve always missed you…”
The beautiful person lifted his head, revealing a tear-streaked pale face, his curled lashes damp with tears, looking so sincere and heartbroken.
The shadow wavered.
Finally, it extended its hand, clumsily reaching out to wipe away the tears.
This time, its touch was no longer the freezing, bone-chilling cold; invisible fingertips brushed softly against the wet, red corner of the eye, performed gently and slowly, as if afraid of causing pain.
“Don’t you blame me?” Yan Chuan felt the pressure at the corner of his eye and, astonished and delighted, looked up.
Tears still clung to his lashes, a mist of moisture filled his gaze, and his cheeks were damp and flushed, the eye corners red to an astonishing degree.
So many tears had fallen in just a moment.
The shadow sighed to itself, becoming even gentler in its gestures.
Fingertips grazed over his cheek, lightly caressing the soft, snowy flesh.
Yan Chuan leaned into its palm as if relying on it, his nose slightly twitching.
“My wife turns out to be an acting genius, you know?”
“What a little trickster, even more in love now! Points +100, points +100.”
“It doesn’t matter even if my wife did something bad; what about you? Shouldn’t you reflect on whether you did something to make your wife sad? Otherwise, why would she seek out someone else?”
“Don’t cry, my wife, it’s all the bad men’s fault.”
“Just to clarify, I’m such an easygoing partner; my wife says to cry, then cry! Will there be more tears flowing in the future?”
“I miss you so much…” Yan Chuan felt the tear stains carefully wiped away from his face, his cheeks flushed.
The shadow remained silent, but he didn’t care; he reached out from under the blanket and grasped the shadow’s “hand.”
The long, slender, pale fingers hovered in the air, and the palm felt unnaturally cold to his touch, causing a shiver.
Even if the shadow had withdrawn its piercing cold temperature, its innate chill felt different from a human’s.
Yan Chuan felt as if he was holding on to a piece of ice, yet he couldn’t let go; he maintained his holding pose.