GRMFBS CH38

Gu Jiancheng didn’t move.

Zhan Yan’s gaze was like a feather, gliding slowly along his profile, light and soft.

He held Zhan Yan’s hand, feeling his heartbeat quicken with each thump.

Gu Jiancheng still remembered the year he first met Zhan Yan.

Back then, he was tormented by aftereffects. Though Gu Jiancheng could mask it flawlessly in public, his temper was inevitably short.

A cold, violent shadow clung to him. Even the densest person could sense the danger he exuded. People, driven by their instinct to seek safety and avoid harm, steered clear. His roommates would rather struggle, panting, to carry their luggage than ask for help from him, standing there empty-handed.

From physical contact to conversation, they did everything to distance themselves.

Gu Jiancheng found this fine. He had no energy to deal with a bunch of lively college students.

That day, he was once again trapped in an illusion. Amid a violent wave of dizziness, a piercing tinnitus stabbed into his temples like a long awl. He vaguely felt a surge of crimson in his eyes, the scene before him cloaked in a dark red haze.

Outside the window, a Ferris wheel twisted into bizarre shapes in a blaze, refusing to collapse. The seat beneath him was warped, safety straps tangled chaotically around his waist and legs, cutting into his flesh where his clothes were torn. His palms felt half-sticky and cold, half-dry and brittle, pressing against something charred and black.

He saw a burning amusement park.

But Gu Jiancheng knew he was sitting perfectly still in his dorm. Those were just trees, chairs, and a desk.

The tactile sensation in the illusion was too repulsive. Gu Jiancheng shifted his hand away, brushing against what felt like a burning ember.

The ember fell to the ground, its blackened shell cracking, sparks bursting to reveal half a scorched skull. The young Gu Jiancheng, with only part of his face still recognizable, had no eyelids. His eyeballs rolled, suddenly fixing on him. His fused lips twitched, soundless, but Gu Jiancheng read the words.

He said: I told you. No one can be trusted.

He said: Don’t hand me over to anyone.

Gu Jiancheng stared for two seconds, realizing that spot held a water cup on the desk.

He leaned to pick it up, his expression as calm as if it were still just a cup in his eyes.

But halfway through reaching, he touched something—warm, soft, and dry.

In the distorted world, a hand appeared, clean and white, jarringly out of place, standing between him and the nightmare.

“Don’t pick it up. You might cut yourself. Let me get a broom.”

The illusion shattered like salt dissolving in water. The distant trees, the desk before him, the chair beneath him returned. The noise in his ears vanished, and the world fell silent.

He looked up and saw Zhan Yan.

Zhan Yan withdrew his hand, grabbed a broom, and swept the broken porcelain cup into the trash.

As that warm, soft touch faded, the headache crept back, but the hallucinations were gone, and the pain seemed to ease.

Perhaps noticing Gu Jiancheng’s stare, Zhan Yan flashed him a smile.

Gu Jiancheng took a deep, slow breath.

The long-endured pain suddenly lifted, replaced by relief and exhaustion, like soaking battered limbs in a hot spring. Drowsy, he wanted to curl up and sleep.

His body and mind yearned to relax, but his psyche blared a frantic alarm—another aftereffect: paranoia.

Gu Jiancheng didn’t believe in unearned kindness.

In the infinite world, when a smooth path appeared before you, you’d better stop and check if you were nearing bait in a trap.

Those without this awareness usually ended up dead.

…

Zhan Yan’s gaze still traced his face, openly admiring the lines of his profile.

Gu Jiancheng held Zhan Yan’s hand, his palm up, resting Zhan Yan’s hand on the seat without pressure, just lightly covering it. Their fingers interlaced like a lock.

Gu Jiancheng sighed inwardly, a groan-like lament for himself.

Zhan Yan was both keenly perceptive and maddeningly oblivious.

That touch when picking up the cup seemed to flip a switch. From then on, as long as Gu Jiancheng stayed within five meters of Zhan Yan, his aftereffects lessened.

During that time, he was torn between desperate craving and extreme wariness. He controlled himself to stay within five meters but avoided any interaction—no touching, no talking, no eye contact.

Otherwise, he feared losing control, wanting to cage Zhan Yan, lock him up, keep him close to soothe his craving and quell his vigilance.

It took Gu Jiancheng a while to reconcile these conflicting extremes, while Zhan Yan remained utterly unaware.

Just as he was now, completely oblivious.

At the Ferris wheel’s peak, Gu Jiancheng turned, his dark eyes locking onto Zhan Yan. His throat bobbed as he whispered, “Wanna kiss?”

As the Ferris wheel crested and began its descent, their overlapping shadows parted.

Zhan Yan’s face was slightly flushed.

The first time he saw Gu Jiancheng, he’d thought his eyes were striking—black and cold, like twin extinguished stars. Later, he noticed those stars ignited when they looked at him.

He really… couldn’t handle that gaze.

They stayed until the amusement park closed.

Gu Jiancheng was reluctant to part.

In the haunted house earlier, when they encountered a “ghost,” Gu Jiancheng had observed Zhan Yan’s reaction. It was odd but definitely not the response of someone seeing an actual ghost.

Zhan Yan was still an ordinary person, without supernatural powers, yet he was aware of the extraordinary.

After investigating Zhenkexin News Agency, Gu Jiancheng pieced it together. The agency was a minor cover channel under the Anomalous Affairs Administration.

Gu Jiancheng was certain that before the break, Zhan Yan had been a staunch materialist, but not anymore. Without knowing the truth, the news agency’s work seemed dull, like fabricating tabloid nonsense. Zhan Yan wouldn’t have been drawn to it.

That bottle of essential oil couldn’t have come from the agency’s channels. Such high-grade stuff was rare even within the Anomalous Affairs Administration, let alone a near-mundane outfit like the news agency.

Rather than Zhan Yan encountering the supernatural through the agency, Gu Jiancheng suspected he’d stumbled upon it earlier and later noticed clues at the agency, which is why he stayed.

Zhan Yan knew but didn’t want Gu Jiancheng involved, hence urging him to quit.

Asking directly would likely yield no answers. Gu Jiancheng decided the best approach was to stick close to Zhan Yan, ready to protect him if something happened. When apart, he’d investigate further and procure some quality protective talismans for Zhan Yan.

Gu Jiancheng exhaled slowly. Just be clingy, right?

“Yanyan~”

Before parting, they agreed Zhan Yan would show him around Yunjin City for the next week, then head to school together.

When Zhan Yan got home, his ears were still red.

What was up with Gu Jiancheng? He’d been clingy before, but not this… this…

“Yanyan~”

Zhan Yan jolted at the sound, snapping his head up to glare at Zhan Suiru. “Sis, don’t call me with that cutesy voice!”

Zhan Suiru slung an arm over his shoulder. “How was your day? Why’s your face so red?”

“It’s hot,” Zhan Yan said without a hint of guilt. It was hot today!

“I’m thirsty. Want water.”

“There’s juice in the fridge. Freshly squeezed,” Zhan Suiru said, undeterred. “Who’d you go out with today?”

“Just a classmate.” Zhan Yan grabbed the juice, pivoted, and used the fridge door to block Zhan Suiru, heading to the living room.

Just then, Zhan Jinli returned. Zhan Yan quickly greeted his brother, keeping his mouth busy to dodge Zhan Suiru’s questions.

“Yanyan’s all grown up, hanging out with classmates, leaving his brother and sister behind,” Zhan Suiru teased, pretending to wipe tears.

Zhan Yan: “…If you guys want, I can go to the amusement park with you too.”

Zhan Jinli: ?

No thanks! Never stepping foot in an amusement park again!

Zhan Suiru wasn’t keen on amusement parks either. Having crossed from an apocalyptic world, what thrill could those tame rides offer?

Foiled by her brother, Zhan Suiru huffed discontentedly. “Fine, let’s all…”

Zhan Jinli: ?!

He frantically raised the bag in his hand, forcing out three words to cut her off: “Ice cream!”

His face screamed “unjust calamity.”

Zhan Yan looked at him with pity. Look! She’s even got Bro talking.

Zhan Suiru relented, eyeing Zhan Jinli’s bag warily. “…You made ice cream?”

Zhan Jinli exhaled, typing: Ingredients for ice cream.

He knew his tastes were eccentric. The ice cream he made was inedible to the family.

Milk, cream, eggs, sugar, and various mix-ins.

When Ji Yueming and Zhan Yunkai returned, they found Zhan Suiru and Zhan Yan each clutching a big bowl—one whipping cream, the other beating egg whites. The kitchen door was open, with Zhan Jinli inside simmering fruit jam—Zhan Yan had added the sugar, leaving Zhan Jinli to cook.

Zhan Yan, curious, asked, “Dad, you went out too?”

His dad, usually free when not filming, had been staying home lately due to a sudden spike in public attention.

Zhan Yunkai removed his wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses, unabashed. “Date, obviously.”

Ignoring and not engaging, his buzz was already fading. Yunjin City was familiar territory; finding a nice, quiet spot wasn’t hard.

With three kids at home—freelancers or jobless—who might cut work early any day, was it easy to carve out couple time?

Both parents were smiling, clearly having enjoyed themselves.

A date…

The word sparked a memory, and Zhan Yan’s lips curved unconsciously.

His brother suddenly tapped the bowl he was holding. Snapping back, Zhan Yan looked down.

Oh no! The cream was overwhipped!