Chapter Sixty-One: Sharing a Room

Chapter Sixty-One: Sharing a Room

Shen Ce gazed into the other’s bright, spirited eyes and tentatively asked, “Mo Yi?”

In truth, Shen Ce was deeply perplexed. Although he had once admired Mo Yi, their lives had never intersected. How did Mo Yi know of him, let alone find his home? Moreover, judging by Mo Yi’s appearance, he had only just been discharged from the hospital. His health was visibly poor—why, after leaving the hospital, would his first thought be to seek out a stranger?

As Shen Ce spoke, a flash of something unreadable passed through Mo Yi’s eyes. His lips curved into a faint smile. “You don’t recognize me?” he asked. Mo Yi seemed a little unsteady as he spoke; he lowered his head slightly, coughed with effort, and then wiped his mouth with a tissue.

Shen Ce’s gaze fell on Mo Yi’s exposed wrist as he raised his hand—pale, thin, clearly malnourished. The sight made Shen Ce’s heart clench with unease.

Sensing Shen Ce’s scrutiny, Mo Yi stood composed and unruffled. Though traces of exhaustion lingered between his brows, he showed no sign of weakness. This aura was unmistakable—Shen Ce was certain that the man before him was Mo Yi, the figure he had admired since high school. Yet something still felt off. Even if Mo Yi knew of someone like Shen Ce, it seemed unlikely he would be familiar enough to simply drop by.

Shen Ce pondered intently, staring at Mo Yi for a good four or five minutes. There was something else, an inexplicable sense of familiarity—Mo Yi reminded him powerfully of someone, but Shen Ce couldn’t quite identify whom.

Noticing Shen Ce’s puzzled expression, Mo Yi raised an eyebrow and absentmindedly brushed his right hand over the index finger of his left. Realizing that the finger was bare, Mo Yi let out a helpless little laugh. “I thought, no matter what, you would recognize me.”

Shen Ce hesitated, looking at Mo Yi. That gesture just now—it was too familiar. Seros was always fond of touching the silver-black ring on his index finger, and Mo Yi’s movement had been exactly the same.

The thought of Seros made Shen Ce’s whole body tense. His heart leapt into his throat. Taking a deep breath to steady himself, he asked, incredulously, “Seros?”

The gaunt man started, then his face lit up with unrestrained joy. His dark eyes locked onto Shen Ce, as if afraid Shen Ce might vanish at any moment. In the next instant, Seros yielded to his impulse and pulled Shen Ce into a tight embrace.

Though the other’s arms clung tightly to him, Shen Ce could feel a faint, barely perceptible tremor in Seros’s grip. His nose stung with emotion, but the initial rush of feeling soon cooled. “Seros, did you take over Mo Yi’s body?”

“So what if I did?” Seros quickly understood Shen Ce’s meaning. He released him with a cold laugh, his voice raw with agitation, a mingled fury and grief. “Are you planning to kill me again?”

Shen Ce’s gaze dimmed. He silently studied the man before him—Seros, inhabiting Mo Yi’s body. He was thin, frail, nothing at all like the formidable boss of “Sovereigns of the Skies” except for those deep, dark eyes.

With his head bowed, eyes faintly moist, Shen Ce realized that, compared to the idolized Mo Yi, it was Seros he truly couldn’t let go—the Seros who had done so much for him, and whom he’d ultimately betrayed. Quietly, Shen Ce said, “No, Seros. You have your freedom. I have no right to interfere.”

“What do you mean by that?” The anger faded from Seros’s face, replaced by a more inscrutable look.

Shen Ce shook his head lightly. “Seros, there’s no need for us to meet again.” With that, he took out his key, opened the front door, and stepped inside. As he was about to close it, Seros, unsteady as he was, moved swiftly enough to wedge himself inside.

Shen Ce was startled by Seros’s shamelessness, but, mindful of Seros’s health, didn’t dare try to force him out with the door. “What are you doing in here?”

Seros entered the room in one smooth motion, fixing Shen Ce with a deep, searching gaze. “Zero… Shen Ce, you like me too, don’t you? If before you couldn’t accept me because I was just an NPC, then now that I have a real body, why still deny it?”

Shen Ce, who had been in a low mood, felt both exasperated and amused by this. “Seros, where do you get such confidence? And anyway, you’re using someone else’s body, don’t you think—”

Seros, ever the man of action, didn’t let him finish. He stepped forward and kissed Shen Ce—a hot, swift, and direct kiss.

Shen Ce blinked. He had always disliked physical contact with others, yet even with Seros using Mo Yi’s body, he didn’t feel any aversion. Was it because Seros’s soul resided within, making him unable to resist?

“If I said I am Mo Yi—that Seros is Mo Yi—what then?” Seros whispered into Shen Ce’s ear, his breath hot and tingling against the sensitive skin, like desert sand.

Seros’s voice was still as beautiful as ever—clearer now than the flamboyant tone he’d used in the game, but no less enigmatic. You might think you understood him, yet never truly grasp what lay beneath.

In the midst of this charged ambiguity, Shen Ce’s body went rigid. He heard himself reply, “And so what?” In truth, Shen Ce didn’t doubt Seros’s words. Seros had never stooped to lying, nor had Mo Yi. Apart from their faces, the two shared many traits.

Seros—or perhaps he should be called Mo Yi—pressed Shen Ce against the wall with a brooding intensity, his gaze predatory yet silent.

Shen Ce hadn’t expected the ailing Mo Yi to have the strength to pin him, but he easily pried Mo Yi’s hand away. “No matter whether you’re Seros or Mo Yi, remember, this is my home. I’d ask that you leave now.”

Mo Yi was clearly frustrated by Shen Ce’s response, but, being ill, he was no match for Shen Ce physically. With a resigned shrug, he flopped onto the sofa, adopting a host’s air. “I’m hungry. I traveled all this way to find you—won’t you at least give me something to eat?”

A strange feeling welled up in Shen Ce. With a sigh, he resigned himself—after all, a sick guest must be humored. He couldn’t possibly argue with someone unwell. Besides, his household AI, Arno, had malfunctioned the day before and was off for repairs. Since Arno was a foreign product, it would likely be months before it returned. Shen Ce had no choice but to cook for Mo Yi himself.

Shen Ce was a decent cook. At first, he intended to make a couple of simple vegetable dishes. But glancing at Mo Yi’s emaciated frame, his heart softened, and he ended up preparing corn and pork rib soup as well as braised carp.

At the dining table, the atmosphere between them was surprisingly harmonious. The rich aroma of food filled the air, subtly easing the tension, and both ate contentedly. But as soon as Mo Yi put down his chopsticks, Shen Ce glanced at the clock and said coldly, “Don’t push your luck. Now that you’ve eaten, you can leave, right?”

Mo Yi looked at him with earnest, almost pitiful eyes. “I have nowhere else to go. Shen Ce, for the sake of being the first to come looking for you, can’t you let me stay?”

Faced with Mo Yi’s imploring gaze and humble posture, Shen Ce felt uneasy and looked away. With a helpless realization, he acknowledged he was soft-hearted to a fault. “Fine, but let’s agree—once you’re well, you’ll leave.”

Mo Yi’s eyes brightened at Shen Ce’s concession, his pallor easing, and he broke into a brilliant, innocent smile. Shen Ce could scarcely believe this was the same Mo Yi as the brooding, resentful boss from “Sovereigns of the Skies.”

It wasn’t until evening that Shen Ce realized how inconvenient this seemingly harmless patient might prove. His apartment, though having two rooms and a living area, only had one bed in his bedroom. Shen Ce massaged his temple, but in the end decided generously, “You’re ill. I’ll give way—you take the bed, I’ll sleep on the sofa.”

“How could that be? It’s late autumn; you’ll catch a chill on the sofa. And it’s not as if we haven’t slept together before…” Mo Yi’s eyes narrowed with a teasing glint. “You’re not afraid of a sick man, are you? In my current condition, even if I wanted to do anything, I couldn’t.”

Shen Ce’s lips twitched in disbelief. Indeed, given Mo Yi’s current state, he had nothing to fear.

Author’s note: The story is about to end—most likely in the next chapter!