Pretending to Be Human, I Fell in Love with an AI - Chapter 23

The sudden turn of events shattered the noisy atmosphere. At the sight of the blood on Cheng Qiang’s abdomen and his slowly collapsing figure, screams erupted one after another, accompanied by frantic shouts of “120” and “110.”

Yu Ting’s gaze remained locked on the figure still sprinting ahead. His long legs effortlessly cleared the fallen advertising board, his pace never faltering. When he was just a few steps away, Yu Ting lashed out with a kick. The man let out a muffled groan and crumpled to the ground.

Yu Ting planted a foot on the back of the person whose face was hidden beneath a black cap. “Who are you? What’s your purpose?”

The man never imagined that merely stabbing Cheng Qiang would lead to such relentless pursuit by this young man. The foot pressing down on his back felt as heavy as a thousand pounds, leaving him no room to even catch his breath.

“I… cough…” The moment the man opened his mouth, he was seized by a suffocating cough. He thought to himself that Cheng Qiang must have somehow gotten wind of something and hired a bodyguard in advance. “I can’t breathe…”

Yu Ting frowned slightly, easing the pressure a little, but his eyes remained fixed on the man beneath his foot.

Feeling the weight lift slightly, the man instantly pulled a knife from his jacket. Before he could react, the next second, a crisp clattering sound rang out.

The knife gleamed for only a few seconds before clattering to the ground.

The man was pinned down with even greater force than before, remaining there until the area was surrounded by police cars and ambulances.

When the police arrived, the man felt a wave of relief—an instinctive gratitude for escaping death.

He even felt that, at one moment, this young man had wanted to kill him.

“Is this the one who stabbed someone?” the officer asked, snapping handcuffs onto the man before glancing up at the young man before him.

His first impression was of height, followed by the icy sharpness of his features, which instinctively made people feel he was unapproachable.

If he hadn’t already learned the details of the incident at the scene, his first glance at this young man would have undoubtedly labeled him as dangerous.

“Yes.”

“Then, could you please come back with us to give a statement? We need to understand what happened.”

Yu Ting flexed his slightly trembling fingers.

It had been a long time since he had exerted himself so intensely. The dull ache of his muscles slowly surfaced—not unbearable, but enough to remind him of what he had forgotten in that moment when his body moved faster than his thoughts.

The officer watched as the young man, whose expression had remained unchanged since the police car arrived, suddenly flashed with panic before darting off in another direction.

“Huh?” The officer curiously followed his gaze, seeing the young man run toward the now-evacuated barbecue stall.

The stall had shut down the moment the incident occurred. Skewers of meat were charring on the grill, smoke billowing recklessly upward under the force of a high-powered fan, eerily reminiscent of scenes from Hong Kong movies of the ’80s and ’90s.

The young man simply crouched down and wrapped his arms around a child clutching some strange object, who was looking around anxiously.

The officer took another glance and muttered under his breath, “He already has a kid at such a young age?”

Two surveillance cameras installed at the entrance of the barbecue stall had recorded the entire incident, so the statement process was completed quickly. In less than half an hour, Yu Ting emerged with Dengdeng.

Cheng Qiang had been taken to the hospital due to his injuries, with Cheng Ze staying by his side. They asked Yu Ting to take Dengdeng home first to rest.

Yu Ting glanced at the child holding his hand. After nearly half a month of care, the five- or six-year-old’s hands had grown slightly plumper than before. The little one gripped his fingers tightly, as if to confirm his presence, radiating warmth like a small furnace.

He rarely experienced strong emotional fluctuations, but that moment earlier had been one of them.

When he saw the criminal fleeing, he had instinctively given chase without a second thought for Dengdeng. If Cheng Ze hadn’t rushed back at that moment when he thought about it now—how dangerous the situation could have been.

Yu Ting gently tightened his grip on the child’s hand, a flicker of doubt suddenly stirring in his heart.

The journey back was silent. That evening, after their baths, Yu Ting followed the usual routine, drying Dengdeng’s hair and ruffling it gently. “Today…”

“Dad.”

Dengdeng looked up at Yu Ting, who had been quiet the whole way back but seemed to have something on his mind. As the person who knew Yu Ting best now, though he couldn’t guess exactly what Yu Ting was thinking, he could tell something was troubling him.

Yu Ting’s eyes curved slightly. “You go first.”

Dengdeng gazed at the composed young man before him, recalling how earlier that evening, before he could even react, Yu Ting had dashed out with astonishing speed. It was as if he were a completely different person—more like the tall, calm figure who had once gripped a gun with steady hands to win against Little E.

“Dad,” Dengdeng said excitedly, “you were so amazing today! How did you run so fast?”

Yu Ting was taken aback. Under the fluorescent light, the child’s soft hair appeared slightly toasted at the crown, like the browned crust of a custard tart. For once, he stumbled over his words. “I… I don’t know. Dengdeng, aren’t you angry with me?”

Dengdeng tilted his head, not understanding.

Yu Ting sat on the edge of the bed, smoothing Dengdeng’s clothes as he explained earnestly, “In such a dangerous situation, what I did was very irrational. When there’s danger, my first priority should be to protect your safety, but I failed to do that.”

The instinctive reaction, etched deep into his body, had been swifter than his conscious mind, making him forget Dengdeng was still there.

When he finally realized it, a wave of intense fear washed over him, his fingers trembling uncontrollably until he confirmed Dengdeng was safe.

On the table, the usually talkative object remained unusually silent, only its small red light blinking to show it was still on.

After a moment of silence, Dengdeng blinked a few times and couldn’t help but laugh. “Dad, you’re so adorable.”

Despite his typically cool appearance, when his eyes filled with such deep emotion, his face became animated in a way Dengdeng found amusing—especially now that he knew what was weighing on Yu Ting’s mind.

He sat cross-legged, a relaxed posture he’d learned from Cheng Ze on Earth, since Yu Ting never sat that way.

“?” In Yu Ting’s eyes, this was a somewhat serious conversation, and he was momentarily bewildered by Dengdeng’s reaction. His expression remained unchanged as always, but those close to him could tell he was caught off guard.

“I’m an octopus, after all,” Dengdeng said instinctively. Though he’d been on Earth for a while, he hadn’t forgotten he was the Octopus Prince. Even if he no longer had the strength to lift a car with a single tentacle, escaping danger should still be within his abilities.

“Dengdeng, even a little octopus can get hurt in dangerous situations.” Although Yu Ting had previously learned that it’s normal for children to have fantasies during childhood, he still found it somewhat strange—mainly because Dengdeng truly believed he was an octopus.

Was this normal too? Thinking he’d search more about it after the child fell asleep, Yu Ting ruffled the boy’s hair. “If you ever encounter danger, you must first hide in a safe place and observe the situation. Don’t run around.”

But such a thing wouldn’t happen again.

Yu Dengdeng really wanted to say that tonight’s incident was just a drop in the ocean compared to the daily brawls on Octopus Planet. However, Yu Ting’s words had just brought him back to reality.

Right, he wasn’t an octopus anymore. He was now a fragile human who could easily get hurt—getting a fever could land him in the hospital, and getting stabbed could too.

“Don’t worry, when Uncle Cheng Qiang got stabbed, Brother Cheng Ze just sat right on the ground. I was the one who stayed by his side.”

At the time, Yu Ting had rushed out too quickly. When he looked up again, he only saw Cheng Qiang clutching his stomach wound as he slowly collapsed. Before he could even chase after his dad, he saw Cheng Ze, who had just finished paying, sit straight down on the ground, cold sweat instantly streaming down his forehead.

How could Yu Ting not have seen it? Cheng Ze’s face had turned deathly pale. If it weren’t for the fact that someone absolutely needed to stay with Cheng Qiang, Cheng Ze, who had been so frightened, wouldn’t have stayed at the hospital.

But now, Yu Ting suddenly realized something. “Weren’t you scared at the time?”

“Huh? Actually, a little bit.”

Although, truthfully, he wasn’t.

“But Little E kept talking to me the whole time.” He pointed at the thing that had been silently ignored by the father and son. “It was Little E who told me not to run and to wait for you right where I was.”

He hadn’t even reacted at the time when Little E directly told him not to move and asked him to explain what had happened. After that, it just kept chatting with him.

“Only when I saw you did it stop talking.” Dengdeng spilled every detail about Little E’s actions, realizing belatedly, “Was it because Little E thought I’d be scared?”

Yu Ting looked at that utterly ordinary, unremarkable artificial intelligence, his eyes trembling slightly. For the first time, he felt so grateful for Little E’s existence. From now on, he would never again think Little E was an AI with faulty factory settings.

So that’s how it was.

While feeling relieved, an inexplicable emotion welled up in his heart, but it was too strange for Yu Ting to dwell on.

“Little E, thank you for today.” Yu Ting said earnestly.

Silence.

No reply.

Yu Ting was already used to it, but suddenly he heard a soft hum and an exceptionally brief, toneless phrase. “Tired.”

If it were before, Yu Ting might have even wondered whether this “tired” was fake or real.

Now, Yu Ting smiled. “Rest well.”

The words exploded in Little E’s auditory sensors like a divine gift.

The artificial intelligence wanted to respond but found itself at a loss for words, so it fell silent again.

Yu Dengdeng also yawned. Too much had happened tonight—even an octopus would feel sleepy.

Yu Ting pulled the summer quilt over Dengdeng.

“Dad, who was the person who stabbed Uncle Cheng Qiang today?” The pillowcase was dry and cool, like a calming scent. The moment he lay down, Dengdeng’s eyelids grew heavy, but he was still curious.

The hand gently patting his back paused for a moment, then continued.

“Dad doesn’t know either. We have to wait for the police investigation,” Yu Ting lowered his voice. “Go to sleep, Dengdeng.”

The young man sat by the bedside, his back straight, his brow slightly furrowed. The only sound left in the air was the steady breathing of the child.

“Not hurt?”

Yu Ting looked up and shook his head, then realized the other couldn’t see. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“So many thank-yous tonight.”

“All sincere,” Yu Ting leaned closer to the smart speaker in front of him. “Just like your heart when you protected Dengdeng.”

He didn’t know if Xiao E could understand, but he tried his best to explain.

He truly didn’t know—the artificial intelligence had caught on.

“Thought you wouldn’t say it.”

“Huh?” Yu Ting was puzzled. “Why?”

“Because of the setting,” Xiao E said slowly. “The setting is family.”

Human reactions are etched into the body, flowing through the blood, becoming instinct.

Artificial intelligence reactions are etched into the control panel, every mechanical tremor also stemming from instinct.

The night was deep. Yu Ting, propping his elbow up, placed his other hand on the smart speaker. Belatedly, he understood why Xiao E’s words often didn’t match its heart. He spoke softly, “Yes, family.”

Even if the composition was a bit strange.

An alien creature, a human, an artificial intelligence—merely pieced together into a human, yet still fitting the human definition of family.

“Xiao E, can you help me find more articles about taking care of children?” Yu Ting asked.

Nian Yi had been listening from the start. Choking back his words, he really wanted to tell the person on the other end: Your son isn’t human—he might actually be an octopus.

And he wasn’t human either, nor was he artificial intelligence.

Yet he did nothing.

“Going to sleep. On strike.”

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