A lie laced with just enough truth could really blur the lines. It became impossible to tell fact from fiction.
Qi Song stayed quiet for a long time after hearing the story, then finally asked, “Why didn’t you come to me?”
After all, he had been the one who got involved with Chi Zhan first.
“We’d just met back then… we weren’t that familiar. It didn’t feel appropriate.”
Qi Song looked at him for a moment, then said softly, “Why did you forget?”
Chi Zhan wished he had an answer to that too.
Though he’d already formed a few theories in his mind, they were just that—theories. No proof. Nothing he could act on.
“Were you sick?” Qi Song asked after a pause. It was the only possibility he could think of. “Memory loss?”
Naturally, Chi Zhan couldn’t tell Qi Song the truth about being an NPC. He suspected his memories had been reset at some point, but even so, there was no way to prove it. All he could offer was a vague, “I’m not really sure… How did we even meet?”
Right now, the only lead he had—the only one who might know the truth—was Seven.
Whatever had happened between them, only he knew.
“That doesn’t matter.”
He’d always been tight-lipped, and if he didn’t want to talk about something, no one could pry it out of him. Even when they used to chat online, Seven had kept his lips sealed about their past. Chi Zhan figured he must’ve hurt him somehow, and hadn’t dared ask—afraid he’d stir up painful memories and get himself blocked out entirely.
Now, Chi Zhan was dying of curiosity. But in real life, it was even harder to bring it up.
Qi Song seemed to sense his inner conflict—wanting to ask but not daring to—and suddenly said:
“You were the one who approached me first. You asked if I wanted to be your boyfriend.”
Chi Zhan stared at him, dumbfounded.
“What?”
Was I really that bold?
“Then… you said yes?”
He could practically see the rest of the story playing out: Seven agreed, and for some unknown reason, after Chi Zhan logged off, Seven waited for him—for six whole years. Melodramatic. Ridiculous. Even webnovels wouldn’t dare write something that cliché.
“No,” Qi Song said flatly, glancing at him. “I turned you down.”
“…?”
“I told you I wouldn’t enter a relationship with anyone, so no one would get unrealistic expectations about me. But you kept chasing me anyway. Logged on every day to camp out and catch me the second I appeared. You wouldn’t stop inviting me to games. I had no choice. In the end, I gave in.”
“…??”
Was I really that relentless? That clingy? He couldn’t even picture it!
Qi Song’s lips curled into the faintest smile.
“You believed me?”
Chi Zhan stared at him for a few seconds before realizing—Qi Song was messing with him.
“You—you tricked me?!”
So much for that serious, no-nonsense image. The Seven who looked like he couldn’t tell a lie to save his life had actually learned how to spin stories and pull pranks!
“The first part was true.”
Chi Secretary turned to stone.
So I really… asked someone to be my boyfriend like that?
That was bolder than most people dared to be in their whole lives.
And now? He couldn’t even imagine doing it.
“So now, it’s my turn to chase you,” Qi Song murmured. He placed the little cat-shaped hand warmer into Chi Zhan’s hands and lowered his gaze. “If you say yes, I’ll give you Milk to keep you company.”
It was the ultimate temptation.
No one could tell how much Chi Zhan adored small animals. But he barely had time to care for himself, let alone a pet. His job had him coming and going all day, barely home—owning a pet was a dream he’d long shelved. He’d often linger in pet stores, then leave reluctantly.
And now someone was offering him a cat.
Just thinking about Milk made his heart melt. The temptation was almost unbearable—he was seconds away from saying yes.
“Beep beep. Cleaning mode activated.” The robot vacuum suddenly whirred to life, aimlessly bumping around the floor. “Please watch your step. Please watch your step.”
Chi Zhan snapped back to his senses and forced himself to say, “I… don’t want to talk about this right now.”
“You don’t want it?”
“I… don’t,” Chi Zhan replied, with obvious difficulty.
But as he met the cold gaze of the system’s invisible presence, he remembered its warning:
Stick to the original plan. Don’t waver!
Was he supposed to tell Qi Song now that he already had a boyfriend?
No. Absolutely not.
After his last two attempts, Chi Zhan had learned a painful lesson: telling them didn’t work. In fact, it only made them more determined, more persistent.
But Qi Song… seemed different.
He was too unique.
From everything Chi Zhan had observed, Qi Song had the highest moral standards of the four. He was the most emotionally stable, never exploded like Zhou Yanxing, never shrouded in mystery like Cen Chi. As for Chu Xingxiao—he’d already been driven out the door in a fit of rage, so he was out of the equation for now.
All things considered, there might still be a sliver of hope here.
After all, when he’d tried breaking up with Song Guang, he’d just gone offline for a few days. Nothing dramatic.
But if something unexpected happened…
Qi Song lowered his head slightly, and the jade pendant at his collar slipped out, swaying gently in the air—still warm from his skin. Chi Zhan reached out and tapped it lightly.
“You’ve been wearing it all this time.”
“Mm,” Qi Song replied absentmindedly. Then, as if recalling something, he added, “Those other pendants you bought that day—were they all for your ‘friends’?”
Aside from Zhou Yanxing, most of the doctors hadn’t spent much time with Chi Zhan. And yet… they’d received pendants too.
What kind of relationship did they have?
He even called him “Ah-Zhan.”
Such an intimate nickname—Chi Zhan hadn’t rejected it, either.
Clearly, their connection was far deeper than he’d thought.
Chi Zhan had bought a total of five jade pendants. Two of them were in the room right now. Add in the one Chu Xingxiao had, and that left just one unaccounted for.
“…Yeah. They’ve all taken good care of me.”
When he’d bought the gifts, he hadn’t thought much of it. He certainly hadn’t expected Qi Song to notice all of it.
The air between them grew heavy. Their distance gradually shrank.
Chi Zhan’s heart skipped a beat. Abruptly, he stood up and said a little awkwardly, “Want to play a game? I haven’t tried the keyboard you gave me yet.”
