Cen Chi’s words cut straight to the heart of the matter—so direct that Chi Zhan barely had time to react. His expression nearly slipped, but he managed to steady it at the last second.
“…What mission?” He put on a confused look. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Cen Chi wasn’t the least bit surprised by his response.
“Maybe I can even guess… your mission has something to do with Zhou Yanxing.”
A flicker of surprise flashed deep in Chi Zhan’s eyes.
Just two short sentences—and Cen Chi had nearly laid bare the core truth.
But how?
When a love interest uncovered information like this, wasn’t the system supposed to block it out automatically? Could it be… even with key data suppressed, Cen Chi had still managed to deduce most of the truth?
“Did I guess right?” Cen Chi asked calmly.
Chi Zhan stayed silent for a long moment, then finally looked up.
“How did you know?”
He’d expected Cen Chi to dodge the question—but to his surprise, he offered a name. “Do you remember Qi Wen?”
Chi Zhan sifted through his memories. Vaguely—wasn’t that the player Cen Chi had once liked? Why bring him up now?
“I took a course in college,” Cen Chi said, his voice mild. “Hypnotherapy. I hypnotized him.” He said it with the ease of discussing the weather. “And from him, I learned a few things.”
Chi Zhan stared in disbelief. Cen Chi stood and walked over to him.
“So I know there’s a reason why you rejected both me and Zhou Yanxing.” He placed a hand on Chi Zhan’s shoulder—not with force, but somehow it still sent a chill through him. Frowning slightly, Cen Chi asked, “But now… you’ve agreed to be with him. You broke the rules. Why?”
It was as if some delicate balance had been shattered. In what had once been a normal life, something unnatural had slipped in. As Cen Chi interacted with these people, he quietly observed them too. At first, he’d only felt a vague sense of wrongness. But those people… all seemed driven by the same singular goal—to be with him. And that motive alone felt off.
Cen Chi was someone who preferred to keep a low profile. He never drew attention to himself. Even here at the restaurant, he played the part of an unassuming guest—no one knew he was the actual owner.
But none of it mattered.
People still came. One after another, always appearing in front of him.
Cen Chi hadn’t originally cared to uncover their intentions. He’d merely watched them, like a sociologist quietly studying black-and-white silhouettes passing through his world. They all shared one trait: they’d stay for just a short while, then vanish without a trace—only to reappear again later as if nothing had happened.
Would Chi Zhan… be the same?
Long, cold fingers brushed across Chi Zhan’s cheek. Cen Chi lowered his head slightly, gazing down at him. Chi Zhan, now completely stunned, was clearly shaken by the implications of what Cen Chi had said.
And how could he not be?
Cen Chi knew so much—maybe even more than Chi Zhan himself did. And somehow, he’d slipped past the system’s notice.
And hypnotism? That was something Chi Zhan thought only existed in TV dramas.
He pressed his lips together tightly.
When he didn’t respond, Cen Chi didn’t push. He simply said softly, “There’s only one thing I want to know…Ah-Zhan, are you going to leave?”
Unease.
Ever since learning that Chi Zhan wasn’t truly one of them, a creeping sense of dread had taken root in his heart. If Chi Zhan left, that would be it. There’d be no way to find him again.
“…I don’t know.”
Even if he was a player, there were still far too many secrets. And beyond that—this world was unstable, teetering on the edge of collapse. If it truly fell apart, he and the love interests might all be reset, their memories erased, forced to start again from zero.
Or worse… maybe it had already happened before.
Looking at Cen Chi, a wild idea suddenly surfaced in Chi Zhan’s mind.
If Cen Chi could hypnotize… did that mean he could manipulate memory?
That was practically a cheat code tailor-made to exploit the system’s blind spots.
Chi Zhan knew this was a gamble. If he played it wrong, he’d lose everything—including the information he’d just acquired. He was only one step away from the truth—he couldn’t bear to retreat now.
Having heard his answer, Cen Chi’s gaze dimmed.
“I don’t know” meant there was still a chance.
And if Chi Zhan did leave, that would be the end—he’d disappear forever.
He had control over everything else in his life. But this? He was powerless. Unless he could find whoever was pulling the strings behind the scenes—and force them to relinquish control.
As Cen Chi’s mind raced through a thousand dangerous contingencies, Chi Zhan offered a rare bit of reassurance.
“I’m not going anywhere—at least not for now. Still, in a while… everyone might lose their memories. Is there any way to preserve them?”
Cen Chi was briefly stunned. He hadn’t expected Chi Zhan to share something so crucial.
“Hypnosis can preserve memories. But to access them again, you’d need a keyword.” He lowered his voice. “Is your relationship with Zhou Yanxing… also part of this?”
Chi Zhan was taken aback again. Cen Chi’s perceptiveness was downright terrifying.
…Had the system dumped everyone else’s IQ stats into him?
“If you want,” Cen Chi offered, “I can do it for you. But you’d have to trust me completely.”
Yes—hypnosis required two things: first, the subject had to be in a completely relaxed state. Second, they had to trust the hypnotist without reservation.
By telling Chi Zhan about his hypnosis ability so openly, Cen Chi had already sacrificed the first condition.
Chi Zhan looked at him steadily.
Dr. Cen had a refined, handsome face and a calm, scholarly aura—at first glance, he was the kind of man who made you instinctively lower your guard. But spend enough time with him, and you’d realize… Cen Chi was not what he seemed. He was simply very good at playing the part.
