Xingwang Hotel
Chapter 365: You too, why don’t you admit it?
“Huh? What do we do next?”
Hearing this sentence, Wen Jianyan found it extremely absurd and almost burst out laughing.
However, without any warning, the cold aura pressed close again, forcing him to swallow back all the harsh words that were about to come out of his mouth.
The kiss ended.
Wu Zhu slowly rubbed the young man’s wet and slightly swollen lower lip with his thumb, and asked, “Compared to what you remember, how did I do?”
“Terrible.”
Wen Jianyan didn’t even care that he couldn’t catch his breath. He gritted his teeth and sneered coldly.
“Oh.” Wu Zhu responded calmly. “Looks like I still need to practice.”
Wen Jianyan: “???”
Before he could react, the other party’s lips came down again?!
Wen Jianyan felt dizzy and was forced to lean back, enduring this storm-like kiss.
A cold tongue invaded his mouth, pressing in mercilessly.
The overly long darkness blocked his vision, causing his other senses to become extremely sharp.
Wen Jianyan became acutely aware:
Compared to the previous kiss, Wu Zhu now seemed even more skilled, mature, and experienced.
Some skills that he should not have possessed at this point in time seemed to be awakening, and were gradually becoming proficient through repeated practice.
Wen Jianyan was deeply frustrated.
This damn…
Truly, the student had surpassed the master.
Taught the disciple, and he ended up killing the teacher.
As if sensing the human’s distraction, Wu Zhu bit down with displeasure, his teeth clamping on Wen Jianyan’s lower lip.
The lower lip, already burning hot from the previous kiss, was scraped again by sharp canine teeth. Amid the pain was an undeniable tingling numbness, causing an uncontrollable shudder.
Wen Jianyan trembled.
“Mm…”
The sound overflowed from his throat, only to be swallowed back down by their overlapping lips.
By the time he was released again, Wen Jianyan was already dizzy, panting for air. He quickly realized how pitifully weak he was compared to the other, and couldn’t help feeling a bit indignant.
Why the hell didn’t non-humans need to breathe when kissing?
“How about this time?”
Wu Zhu asked.
Like a very humble student, sincerely seeking his teacher’s opinion.
This time, Wen Jianyan couldn’t nod and couldn’t shake his head either.
There was absolutely no way he would give praise, but he was also worried—if he continued to insult Wu Zhu’s poor technique, the other might just use him for more “practice.”
He took a deep breath, swallowed the curse words that were about to come out, and said through gritted teeth, “Well, I’d say you sure have plenty of free time.”
“Mm?” Wu Zhu gave a single syllable response.
Wen Jianyan gave a short laugh, and said:
“I’m guessing, right now the Nightmare is doing everything it can to deal with you?”
Although the time given to him was very short, and the clues were pitifully few, Wen Jianyan still managed to piece together a complete picture using the information-gathering ability he prided himself on.
The sudden earlier incident, the brief memory loss, and the completely sealed darkness that followed, all pointed to one conclusion. That was: the Nightmare was trying to shut down the instance and lock Wu Zhu back inside, and Wu Zhu seemed to be resisting it.
As the only human in this inhuman confrontation, Wen Jianyan didn’t know the details, but he could still keenly detect the truth hidden within the tiniest observable details.
Clearly, no matter how at ease Wu Zhu appeared before, for him, the whole situation was obviously not as simple as it seemed.
Otherwise, when Wen Jianyan woke up just now, the other should have appeared immediately, not after such a long blank interval.
And Wu Zhu’s reappearance clearly indicated he had achieved a temporary victory—otherwise, that conversation just now wouldn’t have happened.
But, based on what Wen Jianyan knew of the Nightmare—
It was definitely not some harmless creation that would allow such a thing to happen without doing anything. What’s more, Wen Jianyan knew very well what the final outcome of this confrontation was.
The Nightmare had won.
Wen Jianyan lifted his eyes, gazing into the bottomless darkness ahead, and spoke in a tone that seemed polite and gentle, but actually carried hidden mockery:
“What, aren’t you afraid that—”
In the darkness, the other party touched his face with a finger and asked in a seemingly very cheerful tone:
“You’re worried about me?”
Wen Jianyan: “…”
Worried about your ass!
“Don’t worry,” Wu Zhu’s voice was still calm, but this time it carried a shard of icy coldness, “Since it has already come to this point, there’s no way I’m getting locked back in.”
Wait a second.
“Come to this point?”
Wen Jianyan was stunned and repeated it.
“You want to know?”
Wu Zhu asked.
Well, no shit.
Wen Jianyan nodded.
“So concerned about me.” Wu Zhu touched Wen Jianyan’s face again and sounded even more cheerful. “Makes sense—you’re my wife.”
Wen Jianyan:
“…”
!
He gritted his teeth, swallowed his curse words, forced a smile, and said with a voice that sounded like it was squeezed out through his teeth:
“That’s right.”
After receiving that affirmative reply, Wu Zhu seemed very satisfied.
He opened his arms and held Wen Jianyan entirely in his embrace.
Wen Jianyan endured it and didn’t push him away.
“For such a long time, it never dared let me get too close, never dared to leave behind any of its pawns, afraid I’d find a way to invade it,” Wu Zhu said casually. “Until now.”
His hand, through the shirt, pressed against Wen Jianyan’s side hip, touching the burning hot skin beneath, deeply engraved with incantation marks. “Our blood is fused, already bound together by the rules.”
“Your soul is bound to it, so naturally, I also managed to touch its depths.”
Wu Zhu turned his face; his cold lips brushed against Wen Jianyan’s cheek. His voice was calm, as if speaking of something entirely ordinary, but the content of his words made one shudder:
“It will be devoured by me, bit by bit, from the inside out.”
Wen Jianyan was slightly stunned, his brows furrowed.
In other words, even though the nightmare had shut down the instance, it hadn’t stopped Wu Zhu’s awakening and intrusion—and all of this happened because of his own appearance?
That didn’t seem quite right.
Wu Zhu wasn’t someone who would boast empty, meaningless words. If he said so, then most likely, this was the truth. But the problem was, based on Wen Jianyan’s memory, the nightmare had succeeded.
Could the past really be changed so easily?
Impossible.
Although Wen Jianyan wasn’t deeply versed in theories of space-time travel, even so, he understood well that—regardless of which theoretical school, whether in quantum physics or just in literary works—changing the past was never something simple.
Time and logic would become disordered. If their encounter earlier had burned the “fuse,” then their subsequent “main events” wouldn’t happen, meaning he wouldn’t become the main character, wouldn’t appear at the entrance of the tower again, wouldn’t become the anchor point for Wu Zhu, nor the port of invasion for the nightmare.
This was a textbook “grandmother paradox.”
But—
Wen Jianyan thought again, brows tightening. Images of the nightmare, the instance, and all kinds of strange, terrifying beings inside it flashed through his mind, making him a bit uncertain.
After all, everything he had experienced so far couldn’t be explained by scientific principles.
Could it be that in a world controlled by the nightmare, altering the past was something so easy and simple?
Wen Jianyan felt his mind in chaos, his thoughts tangled.
Parallel universes, quantum mechanics—all were flying chaotically in his brain. And he, as someone who had no real knowledge, only knew a bit of the basics, usually just using it as small talk to bluff others—had no way of finding a balance between metaphysics and science.
Until—
Without realizing it, Wu Zhu’s fingers started sliding downward.
Wen Jianyan’s eyes widened in shock.
He jerked as if electrocuted, arching his waist backward, grabbing Wu Zhu’s hand with one hand and pressing it down hard. His voice was even somewhat off-tone:
“What are you doing?!”
“Just now, I seemed to remember something interesting.”
Wu Zhu said thoughtfully.
A chill ran down Wen Jianyan’s back, his hair standing on end.
Wait a second—this guy can’t be talking about that time in Changsheng Building—
The darkness condensed into cold, soft tendrils that slipped into his pants.
“?!”
Such a familiar feeling made Wen Jianyan’s pupils shrink violently. He jolted as if electrocuted, struggling with both hands and feet.
“You f***ing—!”
The overwhelming stimulation from earlier struck again, dizzying and nearly terrifying, bringing with it a flood of fragmented images, like a gate burst open, surging into his mind. Wen Jianyan rejected sharply:
“No way!!!”
“You let me do this before.” Wu Zhu sounded a bit confused. “Why not this time?”
“…”
“Aren’t you my wife?”
“…”
“Didn’t we play and try even more things?”
“…”
The silver-tongued conman tasted the bitter fruit of being stabbed by his own lies and froze in place.
Wen Jianyan stared silently into the darkness, his face flushed red, speechless for a long time.
He rarely found himself at such a loss for words.
Wen Jianyan only blanked out for two seconds, failing to respond in time—and the best moment had already passed.
Cold darkness gathered and approached.
Wen Jianyan, shocked and furious, started cursing:
“Ah, f*** your grandpa, Wu Zhu—!”
He quickly couldn’t curse anymore.
Wen Jianyan trembled, curling up, gritting his teeth, resisting with all his might. Wu Zhu caught his wrist, pulled him over, and ground his teeth against the tip of Wen Jianyan’s ear.
In the darkness, nothing could be seen, but hearing and touch became even sharper.
Wen Jianyan’s forehead leaned against the other’s shoulder, sparks bursting behind his eyelids.
A pleasant murmur came from Wu Zhu’s throat, like the sound a wild beast makes when being stroked by its beloved human.
In the end, Wen Jianyan bit down on his own finger, trembling—only to have it pulled out by Wu Zhu.
“Why don’t you make a sound?” Wu Zhu asked.
“I like hearing your voice.”
“F*** your mother,” Wen Jianyan cursed with difficulty, spitting out each word one by one.
Wu Zhu kissed Wen Jianyan’s lips, blocking off the rest of his curses.
“I really like it.”
Afterward, Wu Zhu, as before, devoured everything. He raised his hand, cupping Wen Jianyan’s face, and stared thoughtfully at the human before him:
“You too. Why won’t you admit it?”
Wen Jianyan didn’t answer.
His mind was completely blank.
Everything was chaotic, strange, out of control, indescribable, inexpressible, carrying a terrifying sense of madness, making him feel fear, and yet he undeniably felt—
Addiction.
Perhaps it was the overly prolonged, sense-depriving darkness that allowed hidden truths to surface.
No matter how he subconsciously rejected it, in the clashes with terrifying beings, even at the edge of life and death, he indeed and undeniably felt a kind of pleasure that violated common sense. Like kissing a beast, dancing on the tip of a blade.
“…”
Wu Zhu’s lips touched his sweat-soaked forehead.
Cold lips touched the burning hot human skin, like ice cubes falling into boiling water, making a sizzling sound. This overly human, almost tender action made Wen Jianyan’s breathing pause ever so slightly.
He was stunned.
Time seemed to freeze between madness and eternity.
And just then—
Without any warning, a cold and distant electronic sound rang out in the space, suddenly slicing through that brief instant.
“Zzzzzzzzzzzzz—”
The sharp sound of electric current echoed in his ears, as sharp as blades, like some terrifying weapon, forcefully scraping his eardrums.
Wen Jianyan’s face, still flushed just moments ago, turned pale immediately.
[Beep—Zzzzz abnormality—inspection in progress—Zzzz]
[According to———contract Zzzz forcibly removing—]
At some unknown point, Wu Zhu let go of him.
The cold temperature, the skin contact, and even the suffocating darkness that had just been entangling him all retreated.
Wu Zhu left.
All around was void.
It didn’t even really hurt.
Wen Jianyan felt like he was being slowly erased by some invisible eraser. His mind began to go blank, and then he gradually lost consciousness, as if slowly falling asleep.
But no.
Wen Jianyan struggled to open his eyelids.
As the darkness receded, his vision gradually brightened.
He vaguely saw Wu Zhu standing just a step away, his pale face turned to the side, expression unreadable—cold and distant.
He was staring into the void, as if speaking about something.
But Wen Jianyan couldn’t hear.
“…”
The concept of time disappeared.
Wen Jianyan felt like a balloon with a broken string, floating upward, yet also like a stone slowly sinking into a swamp.
Vaguely, he heard strange sounds.
Ding-ling, ding-ling. Like chains clinking together.
In the haze, Wen Jianyan seemed to hear a voice—faint, impossible to tell how far or near.
Cold fingers brushed across his face.
“See you in the future.”
“My wife.”
“?”
Wen Jianyan’s brain was still resting, unable to process any information, but inexplicably, he began to—
Time seemed to pass for a long while.
The five senses began to return.
[[Zzz, abnormality eliminated.]
The electronic voice became clearer, and the electric noise gradually faded: [Your location abnormality will be automatically repaired within one minute.]
[60, 59, 58…]
It started counting down on its own.
Wen Jianyan’s eyelids twitched.
Heat and motor function slowly returned.
Beside him, the thick, sticky darkness was gradually dissipating. Without its master’s control, it scattered like drifting ash, bit by bit fading away. Wen Jianyan was momentarily stunned.
He lifted his head and instinctively looked ahead.
In the distance, at the deepest part of the darkness, a shadow was suspended high by chains, slowly being pulled into a mirror.
“Hey—”
Wen Jianyan took a step forward, then forcibly pulled back.
He was momentarily dazed, a look of realization appearing on his face.
Ah, so that’s how it is.
Some questions finally had answers.
If forcefully shutting down the instance could completely stop the bug, then when the Xingwang Hotel instance was closed, the bug’s spread should’ve been stopped too. But the truth was, the released bug had already infected multiple instances and was only later suppressed by the Nightmare.
It was the bug that voluntarily fell into slumber.
Also, the reason why the Nightmare was disrupted and issued strange commands after encountering the fragment was because back in the Xingwang Hotel, Wu Zhu had, through the “anchor,” invaded the Nightmare’s depths for the first time. Although he later fell asleep again, he obviously retained some interference ability—enough to affect the mission release system in the Nightmare’s livestream room.
The timeline had returned to its proper track.
Wen Jianyan stood in place, feeling slightly dazed.
The countdown continued.
[30, 29, 28…]
Suddenly, a familiar voice once again rang in his ear.
[Ding! Bug detected in system. Please remove it promptly, anchor!]
That voice pulled Wen Jianyan out of his daze.
He suddenly paused.
In the distance, the man who had already fallen back asleep was bound by chains, but—strangely—the process of being drawn into the mirror had halted.
There was something heavy in his palm.
Wen Jianyan looked down.
It was a brass knife.
[Ding! Bug detected in system. Please remove it promptly, anchor!]
The mechanical voice urged.
