GRMFBS CH27

Yi Yun treated the cries of the unruly child as background noise and, in high spirits, pulled out some temporary hair dye powder to give Zhan Yan a small streak of white hair.

She then found a leather jacket, prop handcuffs, a demon-hunting gun, a dagger, and other accessories, jingling and jangling as she hung them around his waist. Though they were all last-minute additions, they looked surprisingly natural.

Nearby, Matthias was also ready. Being a foreigner, he simply threw on a priest’s robe and already looked the part.

Yi Yun twirled her witch’s hat and smiled cheerfully at the two: “Alright, transformation complete! Welcome to the supernatural world!”

Meanwhile, in the fortune-telling area.

Gu Jiancheng strolled through the venue with a pair of devil horns on his head, shadows like silk spreading silently beneath his feet, searching for the “Magician” hidden among the crowd.

In the dazzling lights of the venue, no one noticed the hair-thin shadows creeping along the floor.

He had already spotted two superhumans and three supernatural beings in the venue, all blending in seamlessly with the crowd of people pretending to have powers, having the time of their lives.

A witch wearing a spiderweb veil stopped him: “Demon sir, care for a Tarot reading?”

Gu Jiancheng raised an eyebrow and obligingly sat down at the booth, drawing three Tarot cards.

The witch studied the cards and gave him a mysterious smile: “You’ll find the person you’re looking for here.”

A web of shadows wove itself beneath their feet.

Gu Jiancheng sighed, unimpressed: “Your Tarot games are getting boring, Magician.”

“The ‘person you’re looking for’ I mentioned wasn’t me,” the witch replied. Suddenly, smoke erupted from her seat.

The shadows underfoot tightened instantly, but only caught wisps of mist. A Tarot card fluttered to the ground—the Magician had vanished.

Gu Jiancheng clicked his tongue but wasn’t particularly concerned. He and the Magician had no conflict; if she’d really wanted to escape, she wouldn’t have shown up in the first place.

He stood and continued wandering the venue, soon spotting a Taoist priest dressed as a ghost. He wondered if the man’s ancestors would smite him for this.

Gu Jiancheng couldn’t understand these people’s hobbies. Why would a group of actual supernaturals insist on playing pretend among ordinary humans?

Still, he was mildly intrigued by the person the Magician had mentioned—though she was always cryptic, and taking her predictions too seriously was a surefire way to get oneself into trouble.

A burst of cheers erupted from the magic performance area. Gu Jiancheng strolled over.

“There’s an amazing mage in the magic area—wanna check it out?” Yi Yun blinked and added in a hushed tone, “It’s actually the Magician, but we can’t call her that here.”

Zhan Yan nodded in understanding and gave her an OK sign. “Let’s go, Witch Lady.”

And so, the witch led the demon hunter and the priest to the magic area.

Along the way, Zhan Yan couldn’t help but marvel at how much money the event organizers must have. The venue was meticulously decorated, each themed area distinct—they passed a “Duel Zone” filled with arcade machines retrofitted with supernatural aesthetics, inviting immortals, holy knights, hunters, demons, vampires, and werewolves to battle it out.

But he hadn’t seen a single advertisement. How was this event making money?

“Maybe through sheer passion?” Yi Yun mused. “I heard the host is loaded. This is just a personal hobby—they didn’t want ads ruining the vibe. I mean, would you want to see a ‘999 Elixir’ business card next to an alchemy cauldron?”

“Everyone here had to pass screening. Most are longtime members of the scene—notice how no one’s in cheap, obviously fake costumes? There’s also no sneaky filming or harassment. How’d you guys get tickets, anyway?” Yi Yun asked curiously.

Zhan Yan glanced at Matthias. The foreigner, who didn’t understand Chinese, responded with a blank smile. Zhan Yan shrugged at Yi Yun.

They arrived at the magic area. At the center was a hexagonal stage where a mage in a spiderweb veil stood. She wore a sleeveless dress with a back made of crystal beads woven into a delicate web. Tarot cards danced between her fingers, the dazzling stage lights amplifying the spectacle.

As Zhan Yan watched the performance, his peripheral vision suddenly caught a figure. Before he could even process it, his body reacted—he whipped his head around.

And locked eyes with an equally stunned face.

Gu Jiancheng?!

Gu Jiancheng’s eyes widened, surprise melting into delight. He grinned and began weaving through the crowd toward Zhan Yan.

But the moment Zhan Yan recognized him, a single thought seized his mind and refused to let go.

So when Gu Jiancheng reached out, Zhan Yan instinctively unclipped the toy handcuffs from his belt, grabbed Gu Jiancheng’s wrist, and snapped them shut.

He cheated!!!

Gu Jiancheng, mid-glee, froze. “Yan… Yan?”

Yi Yun, noticing the commotion, laughed. “Wow, already caught a demon? You work fast!”

Zhan Yan’s lips twitched. His malfunctioning brain finally rebooted. His presence at this “supernatural gathering” was entirely accidental—he hadn’t even known about it until arriving. Gu Jiancheng couldn’t have cheated.

“Let me get these off,” Zhan Yan said, fiddling with the cuffs.

Gu Jiancheng pressed his free hand over Zhan Yan’s, trapping it against the cuff, and smirked dangerously. “No rush.”

Zhan Yan: “…”

“Aren’t you going to cuff the other end to yourself, demon hunter?” Gu Jiancheng’s thumb stroked the back of Zhan Yan’s hand.

That smirk sent a thrill through Zhan Yan.

He pulled his hand free, flicking the loose end of the handcuffs like a leash. “I think keeping you on a lead works just fine.”

The crowd erupted in cheers. The mage onstage had done something—bubbles suddenly filled the air, refracting the dazzling lights into a dreamy kaleidoscope.

Matthias poked one, and it burst into a glittering butterfly that fluttered away.

Gasps of wonder rippled through the audience.

“How’d she do that?” Zhan Yan asked, amazed.

Gu Jiancheng tugged impatiently at the handcuff. “Just cheap tricks.”

The Magician had already vanished into the bubbles, the butterflies now transforming into shimmering, oversized snowflakes.

Using real magic to fake illusions for ordinary people. What’s so impressive about that?

The snowflakes drifted to the ground, the spectacle over. Zhan Yan refocused. “Why are you here?”

Gu Jiancheng: “Looking for someone.” His gaze slid to Yi Yun and Matthias, who was still marveling at the fake snowflakes.

“You?”

“Accompanying my mom’s business partner.” Zhan Yan gestured at Matthias—now chatting in heavily accented English with others—and added, “Go have fun. Message me if you need anything.”

“And a high school classmate I ran into,” he introduced Yi Yun, who was eyeing the handcuffs with poorly concealed curiosity.

“Hi,” Yi Yun said, her gaze darting to the cuffs again and again. “You two are…?”

Gu Jiancheng: “Friends.”

Zhan Yan: “My boyfriend.”

Yi Yun: “…Uh.”

Zhan Yan stared at Gu Jiancheng in disbelief.

“I thought you didn’t want to go public,” Gu Jiancheng said, raising his hands in surrender—dragging Zhan Yan’s cuffed hand up with them.

“Ha.” Zhan Yan unhooked the cuff and snapped the other end around his own wrist. 

“You’re under arrest!”

“Just a heads-up,” Yi Yun cut in, amused. “The key’s in the transformation area. Have fun, you two. Message me when you want out.”

She waved her phone and slipped away to find her friends, leaving the couple to their unexpected reunion.

Zhan Yan yanked the chain. “Explain.”

They’d never hidden their relationship at school. Where did “didn’t want to go public” come from now?

Gu Jiancheng obediently let himself be dragged out of the venue. “You never told me you lived in Yunjin City. I thought you didn’t want people in your social circle here to know.”  

He even had the nerve to sound aggrieved.  

Zhan Yan shot him a glare. “And why do you think I never told you I was from Yunjin?”  

Back when Zhan Yan first moved into his college dorm, he wheeled his suitcase through the door and saw a guy already inside, standing by the window with his back turned, gazing outside.  

Zhan Yan had greeted him warmly and asked where he was from.  

His future roommate didn’t turn around, his eyes fixed on some distant point, leaving Zhan Yan with nothing but a melancholic silhouette as he replied, “I have no fixed abode.”  

Zhan Yan: “…Oh. I’m a wanderer of the four seas.”  

So later, the entire class knew Zhan Yan was from Yunjin—except Gu Jiancheng.  

Gu Jiancheng wasn’t the most approachable person and didn’t get close to many classmates. It was almost impressive that he’d never thought to ask anyone else.  

Thanks to that bizarre first meeting, Zhan Yan’s initial impression of Gu Jiancheng had always been: This guy is a chronic chuunibyou.  

Eccentric costumes were common at the event, and groups of people dressed in themed outfits were even more common—a voodoo master walking with a werewolf, a flower fairy discussing skincare with a zombie bride. But two people handcuffed together? That was a rare sight.  

Quite a few people glanced at their wrists, and Gu Jiancheng deliberately jangled the cuffs noisily.  

“Happy now?” Zhan Yan said.  

Gu Jiancheng raised his eyebrows cheerfully. If he really had a demon tail, it would probably be wagging behind Zhan Yan’s back by now.  

They reached the food area, where the mingled aromas of various dishes drifted out. The decor was bizarre—witches’ cauldrons, Taoist alchemy furnaces, even a massive fireplace.  

Zhan Yan glanced around.  

Gu Jiancheng asked, “Want to check it out?”  

Zhan Yan: “You hungry?”  

He turned and walked in.  

The most enticing scent came from a witch’s giant cauldron, bubbling away with a complex, spicy aroma.  

The witch wielding a giant ladle grinned at them. “Care to try our magical cuisine? It’s very sinister! Perfect for feeding demons.”  

A menu board beside the cauldron listed the ingredients: Simmered in the scorching fires of hell, brewed with pain-inducing poisons, infused with fresh entrails, specially treated blood, subterranean tubers, and twisted herbs from the abyssal sea…  

Zhan Yan peeked at the plates: duck intestines, beef tripe, pork brain, duck blood, potato slices, and kelp… all swimming in a spicy hotpot broth.  

“You want some?” Zhan Yan asked.  

Gu Jiancheng wasn’t actually hungry, but he shook the handcuffed wrist and blinked pitifully. “Do I have your permission?”  

In the end, he loaded up a big plate.  

“Demon Hunter, nothing for you?” the witch pressed.  

“Demon Hunters don’t eat demon food,” Zhan Yan said.  

Gu Jiancheng wasn’t picky—he could stomach even the most unappetizing meals without flinching—but he knew Zhan Yan had higher standards.  

Most people wouldn’t have guessed. Among their college classmates, he was probably the only one who knew.  

Zhan Yan disliked the cafeteria, but he didn’t order takeout or frequent restaurants either. At school, he preferred simple, natural flavors—cucumber with dipping sauce, sugar-dusted tomatoes. Everyone else just assumed that was his preference.  

“I recommend trying that,” Gu Jiancheng said, pointing at the vampire-run bar nearby.  

A low-ponytailed vampire was performing flair bartending, setting a bright blue flame atop a rainbow-hued cocktail.  

“I assume you’re not trying to get me drunk so you can escape?” Zhan Yan said.  

“I meant the rack next to it,” Gu Jiancheng clarified.  

Beside the bar stood a metal shelf hung with rows of blood bags.  

The Demon Hunter decided to trust his captive demon’s judgment and bought one.  

The vampire selling the blood bags tried to upsell his signature cocktails but was firmly rejected:  

“Thanks, but no. Underage demons aren’t allowed to drink.”  

They took the blood bag back to the witch’s cauldron, where small tables were set up.  

Their spicy hotpot was still cooking. Gu Jiancheng leaned in close to Zhan Yan’s ear. “Underage?”  

“How old do demons have to be to reach adulthood?” Zhan Yan asked solemnly. “Are you even a hundred yet? I’m guessing you’re not even twenty—still a baby demon, huh?”  

“Fine,” Gu Jiancheng laughed. “So, do I win the game now?”  

“No!” Zhan Yan said firmly.  

“Why not? Didn’t I already get the final reward?” Gu Jiancheng propped his chin on his free hand.  

The current game situation was a bit awkward. The level wasn’t cleared yet, but the ultimate prize had unexpectedly fallen into the player’s lap.  

Zhan Yan inspected the blood bag. It had a cylindrical soft spout—the kind used for IV drips—sealed with a plastic cap.  

He popped it open and had an idea.  

“No,” Zhan Yan said, shaking their cuffed wrists. “Right now, it’s the Demon Hunter who’s captured a demon—not Gu Jiancheng who found Zhan Yan.”  

Gu Jiancheng understood.  

Once the gathering ended, everyone would return to their normal lives. Zhan Yan had no plans to take him along afterward. And if he didn’t solve the puzzle, he still wouldn’t be able to find his boyfriend.  

Their spicy hotpot arrived, served in cauldron-shaped bowls with a side of sesame paste in a mortar dish.  

“Alright,” Gu Jiancheng said, snapping apart his chopsticks. “So this is just a surprise side quest?”  

“Mhm.” Zhan Yan was already sipping from the blood bag’s straw.  

Oh—fresh pomegranate juice!  

The demon ate the witch’s sinister cuisine, the hunter drank the vampire’s specialty blood bag, and their cuffed hands rested on the table so the demon could reach his dipping sauce.  

It felt like magic, Zhan Yan mused. But was it the gathering that felt magical, or the fact that he’d run into Gu Jiancheng here?  

Their relationship had started in a pretty strange way too.  

Gu Jiancheng had sharp, striking features and carried himself in a way that made him seem perpetually on the verge of snapping into action—even when he appeared relaxed. It gave him a uniquely dangerous aura, and since he usually acted like he “didn’t want anyone near him,” most of their classmates still saw him as distant and unapproachable even after three years.  

But Zhan Yan had witnessed Gu Jiancheng gazing into the distance on day one, declaring himself “without a fixed abode.” Even though Gu Jiancheng never said anything like that again, Zhan Yan’s impression of him had permanently diverged from the others: This guy is a terminal chuunibyou.  

Maybe because Gu Jiancheng realized he’d accidentally exposed his true nature, or maybe because Zhan Yan treated him differently from the start, he’d ended up sticking close to Zhan Yan—relatively speaking.  

So when Zhan Yan saw Gu Jiancheng at this event, he accepted it immediately—Looking for a friend? Please, he’s just having a chuuni episode and is too embarrassed to admit it.  

Zhan Yan let his thoughts drift until his wrist was gently tugged.  

Gu Jiancheng had finished eating. He set down the dipping sauce and was draining the last of the complimentary corn juice.  

Zhan Yan waited quietly.  

Gu Jiancheng had a habit—he wasn’t picky about food, but he didn’t like doing anything else while eating, whether it was scrolling on his phone or making conversation. Almost no one noticed this, partly because Gu Jiancheng rarely ate with others, and partly because if someone did talk to him during a meal, he’d pause and respond perfectly normally.

It wasn’t just the well-mannered habit of “no talking during meals or sleep.” It was more like… a deliberate enjoyment of focusing solely on eating.  

This was somewhat strange because people usually only concentrate on savoring their food when it’s delicious. And as for the school cafeteria’s meals—no offense—even if Zhan Yan hadn’t been raised by his father to have picky tastes, by ordinary standards, they could only be described as not bad.  

So, he didn’t think Gu Jiancheng was enjoying the food itself. It was more like he was enjoying the act of focusing on eating.  

A peculiar quirk. And Gu Jiancheng had plenty of these odd, inexplicable traits—little mysteries that intrigued and hooked the observant and curious.  

They bought two “immortal pills” from an alchemist’s cauldron—cold, melt-in-your-mouth spheres scooped with an ice cream spoon into blue-patterned paper bowls. The alchemist kindly warned them that the chocolate-flavored pills were perishable and prone to melting.  

They quickly realized that eating ice cream while handcuffed was not ideal. If they each held their bowl with their free hand and used the cuffed one to scoop, it would be more manageable—but it made the handcuffs even more conspicuous.  

“Should’ve gotten the goat demon’s cones instead,” Zhan Yan muttered.  

The horn-shaped cones could be eaten one-handed.  

His attention was caught by a werewolf—one with a pair of fluffy ears that looked incredibly real, twitching and swiveling atop his head.  

Gu Jiancheng stole a spoonful of Zhan Yan’s ice cream.  

Zhan Yan snapped out of it: “Wanna swap?”  

“Mhm.” Gu Jiancheng took the opportunity to steer him past the area.  

What was so interesting about a wolf demon using real ears to fake costume ones?  

By the time they’d explored all the zones, the gathering was nearing its end. They returned to the transformation area, where Yi Yun was already removing her makeup.  

“Key’s on the counter,” she said, prying off a contact lens.  

The cuffs came off. The magic ended.  

The demon hunter released his demon.  

Zhan Yan unclipped the props from his waist and accidentally knocked something out of his pocket—a small bottle that rolled to a stop at Gu Jiancheng’s feet.  

He picked it up and handed it back: “What’s this?”  

Zhan Yan glanced down. It should’ve been the portable cinnabar he’d brought, but something seemed off…  

He unscrewed the cap and checked.  

[Unfortunately, you mistook an essential oil bottle for your cinnabar. Luckily, you didn’t need the latter today.]  

“Here.” Zhan Yan pressed the bottle into Gu Jiancheng’s palm.  

“For me?” Gu Jiancheng repeated.  

“Yeah, this is what I was gonna give you.”  

Gu Jiancheng lifted it to his nose.  

A crack of the cap released a fresh, woody scent, as if the bottle held an entire forest.  

His expression softened instantly.  

The cheerful Matthias was delivered back by the vampire bartender—he’d been enchanted by the pretty cocktails and had one too many. The mixed drinks hit hard.  

The tipsy priest was hauled into the dressing room. The vampire, now removing his fangs, grumbled, “This guy bragged about his alcohol tolerance. He needs a temperance vow.”  

The now-disarmed demon hunter thanked him and stripped the robe off the drunken priest, returning it to the witch, who was peeling off her false lashes.  

“I should get him home,” Zhan Yan said, glancing at Gu Jiancheng.  

“Alright. Next time.” Gu Jiancheng smiled.  

The night air sobered Matthias up a little.  

In the taxi, the humid summer wind rushed through the window. Matthias, still lost in the magic of the gathering, mumbled drowsily, “Fun… together…”  

He seemed to have stopped caring that it wasn’t a real supernatural event.  

Zhan Yan turned to the window, watching the city lights blur past.  

His thoughts drifted back to Gu Jiancheng. It was strange how easily he’d agreed to part ways. Usually, he’d wheedle for something. This time, he hadn’t. Zhan Yan had a feeling Gu Jiancheng also didn’t want to get too close lately—like refusing to give his address for the gift, like letting go so easily today.  

Another secret?  

—  

In the empty venue, Gu Jiancheng sat across from the Magician.  

He pulled off his devil horns and leaned back, finally comfortable. “Didn’t expect you to have such a… juvenile hobby. Isn’t it embarrassing?”  

“Embarrassing? Chuuni? Absolutely. But fun!” the Magician declared shamelessly.  

Gu Jiancheng scoffed.  

She still wore her crystal spiderweb dress, now with a shawl draped over her shoulders. Gazing at the deserted hall strewn with confetti and glitter, she mused:  

“When I was trapped in the Infinite, I used to dream that one day I’d wake up and realize it was all fake—just a dream. The monsters, the horror dungeons, even my powers. Just a bunch of chuunibyou in weird costumes, playing at a grand masquerade. When the party ended, we’d take off the outfits, wash off the makeup, and return to normal, peaceful lives.”  

She smirked at him. “And don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it. You two looked like you were having fun.”  

Gu Jiancheng rotated his wrist—still faintly warm from the handcuffs.  

Yeah. He could see the appeal now.