Thank you @jennyisfake and @Kiri for the Kofi.
Follow-up
Chapter 273: I am your prey
Wen Jianyan’s pupils slightly contracted.
…Damn, he had forgotten.
Although he was still in the instance right now, it was different from before. In the current “Changsheng Building”, the Nightmare’s control over the instance had weakened significantly, and on top of that, he carried the “brand” given to him by Wu Zhu. It wouldn’t be difficult for the other party to hear or see everything happening here.
A cold, dark serpent slithered into his collar, gliding down his sleeve and around his shoulder.
It pressed against the warm, smooth skin of the young man, slowly sliding along the hollow curve of his collarbone.
The rise and fall of the young man’s chest seemed to quicken slightly.
Wen Jianyan lowered his gaze, but his voice remained calm and indifferent: “Just polite words.”
“Polite?”
A deep, emotionless voice sounded close to his ear.
A cold touch brushed against the tip of his ear, like a fleeting kiss or the sensation of soft, flexible snake scales gliding along his ear. Wen Jianyan couldn’t help but shudder slightly.
He restrained his instinctive reaction, discreetly glancing behind him.
There was no one behind him.
Not far away was a tightly shut glass door, its interior pitch-black. Under the faint, hazy light, it reflected his image like a mirror, showing the young man dressed in wedding robes.
He was surrounded by shadows, like a terrifying presence beyond human comprehension, brazenly claiming him as its own, wrapping him in invisible wings.
Wen Jianyan quickly averted his gaze, replying casually, “Of course.”
“I don’t like your polite words.”
The other’s voice remained flat, as if he didn’t find anything strange about what he was saying, merely expressing his displeasure as if it were a matter of course.
“I don’t like the way he looks at you.”
The cold touch slid across his lips.
In the dim, grey light, the young man’s lips appeared unnaturally crimson, like a fruit swollen with blood. Full and soft, they seemed to sink slightly under some invisible force, as though something unseen was pressing against them.
“And he almost gave you CPR.”
Wen Jianyan: “…”
He never expected that the CPR, which hadn’t even happened, would still weigh so heavily on Wu Zhu’s mind.
Although for an entity like Wu Zhu, “jealousy” probably wasn’t a concept that existed in his worldview, his behavior now…
Was almost no different from jealousy.
“Maybe I should eat him.”
Wu Zhu said.
“…Or maybe eat all the humans here.”
There was a hint of contemplation in Wu Zhu’s voice, as if he was seriously considering the possibility.
In his mind, Wen Jianyan already belonged to him. Any human contact or desire was an offense to him.
He wouldn’t do anything to Wen Jianyan—not yet, at least.
But when it came to other humans, he wouldn’t be so merciful.
As long as he devoured both their souls and bodies, making them part of “himself,” then these offenses would belong to “him.”
And touching his own possession was permissible.
Wen Jianyan: “…”
Alright, a jealous evil god was far more dangerous than a jealous human.
Beneath the wide wedding robe, the young man’s upper body had already been unknowingly wrapped up. Dark tendrils coiled around his pale limbs, like vines growing along his muscles or a giant serpent slowly strangling its prey.
“What’s the point of eating them?”
Wen Jianyan suddenly chuckled. His voice remained calm, indifferent, but there was a faint sound of a sharp intake of breath hidden within his laughter.
“I thought I was your prey.”
The wrapping paused for a moment, then abruptly tightened in the next second.
The cold, black tendrils sank deeply into the warm, soft skin, squeezing the inner thigh, leaving a faint red mark on the tender, sun-deprived flesh.
“Of course.”
Wu Zhu’s raspy voice sounded right next to Wen Jianyan’s ear.
The young man’s voice carried a hint of nonchalance, mixed with a teasing lure:
“Then, wouldn’t eating just me be enough?”
“…”
The breath behind his ear seemed to falter for a moment.
“…Of course.”
The voice was tense, as if squeezed out between clenched teeth.
Wen Jianyan curled his lips slightly.
See, how simple.
A few words were all it took, right?
The next second, his pupils suddenly contracted.
“Ugh!”
A muffled groan escaped from his throat, only to be bitten back and swallowed under his tongue.
Wen Jianyan’s waist gave way, and he couldn’t help but start falling downward. Luckily, he managed to catch himself on the glass door beside him, barely steadying his body.
Su Cheng, hearing the commotion, turned around in surprise:
“What’s wrong?”
Inside the dim “Changsheng Building,” aside from the central atrium that was still somewhat well-lit, the areas around the shops were very dark. Though they weren’t far apart, the visibility was low.
Wen Jianyan held onto the glass door, the loose red sleeve falling down naturally, revealing a portion of his toned forearm. His long, slender hand pressed tightly against the glass, the fingertips turning white from exertion, as though it took a great effort just to keep his back straight.
“N-nothing.”
His voice carried no particular emotion, seemingly as calm as ever, but for some reason, Su Cheng sensed something subtly off.
“Are you okay? Are you feeling unwell somewhere?”
He grew a little nervous, taking a step forward to check on him.
“I’m fine!”
Wen Jianyan’s voice suddenly rose.
Su Cheng froze, instinctively halting his steps.
The other seemed to realize his own outburst.
He cleared his throat slightly, speaking in a calm tone: “Everything’s fine. I just found some clues that I hadn’t noticed before.”
“…Really?”
Su Cheng stood there, looking conflicted.
He could tell that Wen Jianyan probably wasn’t lying, but still, he didn’t feel completely reassured about his current state…
“Yes.”
Wen Jianyan’s speech quickened.
Between the words, there seemed to be some faint, almost imperceptible breaths, quickly swallowed into his throat, leaving no trace. “Anyway, you should go meet up with Qi Qian and the others. Give me some time alone… I need to think.”
He enunciated clearly:
“…Alone.”
Su Cheng blinked, finally relenting:
“Alright.”
He knew that when it came to key clues, Wen Jianyan tended to keep things to himself, only sharing his theories when there was concrete evidence. Needing some time alone to think wasn’t unusual. And most importantly, this instance, “Changsheng Building,” no longer posed much threat. Otherwise, Su Cheng wouldn’t have backed off so easily and let Wen Jianyan be alone.
He turned and headed toward Qi Qian’s direction.
As Su Cheng walked, something felt slightly off.
Hmm…
Was it just the low visibility making him see things wrong?
Just now, Wen Jianyan’s ears seemed alarmingly red…
As Su Cheng’s footsteps faded away, Wen Jianyan pressed one hand against the glass door and abruptly straightened up. His sweaty palm slid across the smooth glass, making a sharp squeaking noise and leaving a clear handprint.
He gritted his teeth and strode deeper into the darkness, his pace quickening as if afraid someone might catch up to him.
The bright, hazy atrium was left behind, and the path ahead grew darker, with less chance of being seen.
Finally, when Wen Jianyan was sure that no one would see him, the strength he had been forcing himself to maintain suddenly vanished.
His knees buckled, and he leaned against the wall as he slowly slid down.
The wide hem of his bright red wedding robe spread out on the cold, pale stone floor, resembling a wilted but vividly blooming flower, drenched in color.
Wen Jianyan knelt on the ground, facing the wall, his body slightly hunched over.
His head hung low, the back of his red robe naturally falling open, revealing a slender, pale neck. In the darkness, it seemed to glisten. His skin was damp with sweat, and a few strands of messy silver hair stuck to it.
One long, slender hand pressed firmly against the wall, veins bulging across the back of his hand. His fingertips turned pale from the pressure.
Among his disheveled hair, the tips of his ears peeked out, crimson red. Most of his face was hidden behind his hair, but the visible side was flushed and delicate, as if it might bleed.
“…”
“That’s what you taught me,” a cold kiss fell on the burning ear tip, “Wasn’t it?”
Wen Jianyan bit down hard, maintaining his half-curled posture, resolute in not making a sound.
“How did I do?”
Wu Zhu asked in a low voice.
…His hands aren’t some kind of inhuman shadows and darkness! And they definitely can’t just—
Wen Jianyan pressed his burning forehead against his hand, refusing to respond.
He merely raised his hand, biting down hard on his knuckles, trembling, teeth sinking in as if he wanted to draw blood.
*
【The mainline task in Changsheng Building is completed. Progress: 100%. Instance closing.】
[10, 9, 8…]
【Anchor has logged off】
【Live broadcast closing in one minute. Countdown: 60, 59…】
As Wen Jianyan had predicted, as soon as the Changsheng Building instance’s final time limit ended, the long-absent system voice echoed clearly in everyone’s ears once more.
When the countdown ended, all the surviving anchors inside “Changsheng Building” experienced a moment of darkness. In the next second, they found themselves in a familiar, white void.
It seemed things were back on track, and soon they’d return to the Anchor Hall.
Su Cheng stood up and looked around.
“Changsheng Building” was a large team instance, but very few had survived. His gaze swept over the sparse survivors, a look of confusion crossing his face.
Wait a minute, where was Wen Jianyan?
Logically, he should’ve appeared in this space too… but Su Cheng couldn’t find any trace of him.
*
Inside “Changsheng Building.”
All the anchors had vanished, leaving behind a vast, dimly lit space. The air was dead silent, without a sound.
In a dark corner.
The young man in the bright red wedding robe leaned his head against the wall, his back hunched, head buried, shoulders trembling occasionally like a field of wheat swept by a gust of wind.
His ragged breathing was stifled deep in his throat, reduced to faint whimpers and sobs, trembling at the tail end.
He bit down fiercely on his knuckles, and the saliva he couldn’t swallow dripped down like tears onto the floor.
Suddenly, his fingertips convulsed against the wall, and a suppressed curse escaped his throat.
“F…k… you… Wu Zhu…”
In the reflection of the glass door, Wen Jianyan’s face appeared.
His silver eyelashes trembled, wet, and a layer of water coated his amber eyes, his gaze slightly unfocused. His face was flushed, red as blood, and his teeth clenched tightly in frustration and embarrassment, as if he wanted to crush the name in his mouth and swallow it.
Behind him, the figure of a grown man slowly materialized, solidifying.
The man’s golden eyes gleamed in the darkness. He examined Wen Jianyan’s reflection in the mirror, then slowly raised his hand, bringing his damp fingers to his lips.
A crimson tongue slipped out, licking every last trace clean with relish.
“You were right.”
He smiled, satisfied:
“Just eating you is enough.”
__
Author’s Note:
Wu Zhu: Apply what you have learned and be self- sufficient.
Lmfaoooooo this is why you never teach a nascent god yep…