The Eleventh Year of Making Hate with My Lover - Chapter 12

What he had just brushed against was a hand with distinctly defined, elegant joints.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

A slightly cool voice drifted over from right behind him.

Shen Wang turned around, finding Wu Que standing there holding a portable light. Under its glow, the man’s snow-white hair and pale skin looked so porcelain they bordered on transparent.

“…I heard a strange noise up here, so I came over to check it out.” Shen Wang didn’t project even a fraction of embarrassment over picking the lock to someone else’s room.

Wu Que tilted his head slightly, his gaze dropping toward the cardboard box. “It was likely a mouse.”

This guy is opening his eyes and talking nonsense again.

“You’re clearly hiding something from me.” Shen Wang advanced with slow, deliberate strides, effectively pinning Wu Que against the wall. “You’ve been acting abnormal since this morning. You were in such a frantic rush to return home were you eager to retrieve something, or desperate to bury something away?”

“My dear Grand Inspector.”

“Illegally hoarding an anomalous specter… if I file an official report on this, what kind of disciplinary action do you think you’ll face?”

Shen Wang leaned in closer. They stood so near that Wu Que’s breath brushed directly against his skin. Wu Que turned his head, attempting to take a step backward, only for Shen Wang to instantly capture him by the wrist.

The light slipped from his grasp, shattering against the hardwood floor. It was a delicate, classical piece of craftsmanship visually stunning but structurally fragile, breaking at the slightest impact.

The illumination vanished instantly, leaving only the pale, skeletal rays of moonlight filtering through the window frame. Suddenly, a distinct rustling sound echoed from the cardboard box behind them; someone was pushing the top flaps open from the inside.

Shen Wang whipped his head around. Under the faint moonlight, he could just barely isolate a towering silhouette.

The entity was completely swathed in a wreath of black mist, its facial features entirely blurred and indistinct.

“Don’t look.” Wu Que’s voice carried a subtle tremor as his cool fingertips reached up to cover Shen Wang’s eyes.

He looped a single arm around Shen Wang’s waist from behind, an action that looked profoundly tender and intimate, yet he simultaneously leaned over and bit directly into the side of Shen Wang’s neck.

This exact trick again… This jellyfish bastard always carries a trace of toxin on him. I forgot to stay on guard against him.

This was the final, exasperated thought that echoed in Shen Wang’s mind before his consciousness plunged into absolute darkness.

When the first rays of early morning light spilled onto the bed, Shen Wang’s eyelashes fluttered. He rubbed his eyes, aggressively forcing himself upright. He was fully prepared to hunt Wu Que down and settle the score for knocking him out yet again.

A figure stood right beside the mattress. Shen Wang instinctively assumed it was Wu Que.

“What kind of shameful secret are you going to such lengths to bury out of sight?” Shen Wang let out a cold snort, lifting his gaze. “I have zero interest in reporting you, I’m simply curi—”

The final syllable died right in his throat, completely stuck.

The man standing before him possessed slightly long, dark hair draped just past his shoulders, clean and razor-sharp facial features, and a pair of obsidian-like eyes that stared back at him with a ghost of a smile. His lips were thin, projecting a somewhat detached, unfeeling aura when pressed together.

“……” I must have woken up too fast. I’m hallucinating.

The individual standing in front of him looked identical to him in every single metric—height, physique, and presence were a perfect match. The singular discernible variable was the slightly longer hair.

Could anyone explain to him why a carbon copy of himself had suddenly materialized in this house? The replica Shen Wang was likewise sizing him up with an identical sense of curiosity.

“You’re awake?”

Wu Que stepped into the room. His eyes darted between the two figures, failing to differentiate them for a brief second.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” The replica “Shen Wang” turned his face toward Wu Que, a warm, gentle smile breaking across his features as his voice resonated with a deep, magnetic baritone.

“……” Wu Que pressed his lips together, alternating his gaze between the Shen Wang on the mattress and the Shen Wang standing beside the bed.

A tactical oversight. Didn’t I lock him securely inside the wardrobe last night? How on earth did he break out?

“Care to… offer an explanation?” The Shen Wang on the bed tilted his head, his tone dripping with skepticism.

“A domestic helper android,” Wu Que declared with an entirely straight face.

“What?” For a moment, Shen Wang failed to process the words.

“A domestic helper android you personally gifted to me in the past,” Wu Que re-explained seamlessly.

“Ha?” Shen Wang was genuinely amused by the absurdity. “Are you telling me that my past self actually gifted you a robot that looks identical to me?”

“Just to handle household chores?”

“Yes. It possesses a few alternative utilities as well, though I have never harbored any desire to test them.”

“Sweetheart, are you hungry? I’ll head downstairs and prepare breakfast for you.” The android version of “Shen Wang” completely ignored the physical presence of the original source material, attempting to clasp Wu Que’s hand to lead him downstairs. If a tail were attached to his lower back, it would undoubtedly be wagging at maximum velocity right now.

“How many times must I tell you not to use that term?” Wu Que subtly shifted his weight, evading the touch. “Head down first, I’ll join you in a moment.”

The replica “Shen Wang” nodded obediently, tracing his steps toward the exit with an immense air of lingering reluctance. Before crossing the threshold, he didn’t forget to throw a fierce, venomous glare right at Shen Wang.

“……” Shen Wang massaged his temples. “We need to talk.”

“What do you wish to know?” Wu Que shut the door, settling himself onto an adjacent chair.

Shen Wang: “The thing I witnessed last night, and the ‘ghost’ the locals have been gossiping about it’s all him, isn’t it?” Although the darkness of the night had obscured the facial features, he could never misidentify an identical height, build, and aura.

“Yes.”

“What exactly is he?”

“He truly is a robot,” Wu Que shrugged. “Or more accurately, a spiritual tool forged in the image of a mechanical puppet.”

“A spiritual tool…” Shen Wang had occasionally witnessed certain spiritual tools being traded across the black market.

Ever since a minority of the human population underwent genetic mutations triggered by the Abyssal Storms centuries ago to awaken supernatural abilities, a selective handful of inanimate objects had likewise been influenced, gaining bizarre, unnatural properties. These artifacts were capable of manipulating space, reversing local timelines, or storing vast reservoirs of energy all categorized under the umbrella term of “spiritual tools.” Currently, well over a hundred registered pieces existed on official record, with countless uncatalogued anomalies circulating through illicit underground trades.

“Then what is he doing wandering outside in the dead of night?”

“A few days ago, I sustained an injury that forced me to revert to my primordial form, resulting in my family tracing me down and dragging me back. As you witnessed, they effectively sealed me inside that cultivation pod.”

Wu Que shifted into a more relaxed posture. “This specific spiritual tool is designated as the 【Servant Puppet】. The user establishes a binding restriction with it, surrendering an object of equal value as an exchange to breathe life into the puppet. Once activated, it acts on behalf of the user to fulfill whatever covenant was struck.”

“His directive has always been to fulfill that covenant and remain by my side. The moment I vanished; his parameters gradually dissolved into instability.”

The 【Servant Puppet】 had been pacing the perimeter of the streets at night solely in a desperate bid to locate Wu Que’s signature. However, because the house was saturated with traces left behind by the original user, its programming prevented it from strayed too far from the property.

Wu Que’s gaze settled heavily onto his face. “This item was abruptly shipped to me by you… during the third year following our divorce.”

Wu Que could still vividly recall the day he returned from that mission; he had been utterly spent. Dragging his exhausted frame back home, his sole desire had been to sink into a deep sleep. The sheer volume of anomalous specters requiring disposal recently had starved him of rest for a prolonged period.

Yet, the moment he pushed the front door open, he sensed a distinct anomaly. An empty shipping carton sat right in the center of the living room. Adhered to the cardboard was a solitary sticky note, devoid of any elaborate text, bearing only a few scribbled words: “Stumbled upon this little trinket in the black market, found it rather amusing. Sending it your way.”

The handwriting was wild and fluid unmistakably written by a specific individual from whom he had parted ways a very long time ago.

While he stood frozen in a daze, the kitchen door swung open, and a figure stepped out. The dark-haired, dark-eyed man emerged balancing two plates, the aroma of the hot food drifting through the air a scent Wu Que hadn’t experienced in an eternity.

It must be an illusion…

Wu Que had stood paralyzed in place.

“What are you standing there gaping for? Come and eat,” the man had offered a gentle smile, his brow entirely stripped of his usual signature gloom.

As expected, it was an illusion.

It was merely a spiritual tool animated by a binding restriction.

And as for the terms of that restriction

Wu Que’s gaze traced the lines of his frame, failing to isolate a single anomaly. Back then, he had no way of knowing what exact piece of himself Shen Wang had surrendered as the price of the transaction.

He had merely looked through this artificial proxy, speaking directly to the man anchored to the far end of the spiritual link:

“I’m so tired.” I’m so exhausted. I miss you terribly.

But you abandoned me.

Absorbing the depth of emotion swimming in Wu Que’s eyes, the question of “Since it’s malfunctioning, why haven’t you disposed of it?” completely dissolved before it could leave Shen Wang’s throat.

“At the very least, it hasn’t actually inflicted harm on anyone…” he heard his own voice murmur. “Just lock it up securely. Don’t let it wander outside to terrify the neighborhood.”

Wu Que offered a noncommittal hum. “I had him locked safely inside the storage room last night. I have absolutely no idea who decided to creep upstairs in the middle of the night and fish him out.”

“……”

“And you’ve seen it for yourself,” Wu Que added, a hint of helplessness leaking into his tone. “He somehow bypassed his constraints this morning and sneaked right into your bedroom.”

“During daylight hours, his programming remains relatively stable.”

The puppet was indeed remarkably stable during the day with the singular exception of trailing right behind Wu Que, addressing him as “sweetheart” at every available frame. Beyond that, the replica spent the vast majority of its time either actively executing domestic chores or on its way to execute more chores.

This finally clarified why the residence had remained spotlessly clean despite Wu Que being away for so many days.

Shen Wang maintained an entirely deadpan expression, watching a man who wore his exact face hustle back and forth between the living room and the kitchen.

“Kindly lift your legs for a moment.” The 【Servant Puppet】 prodded Shen Wang’s ankle with the tip of a mop.

“I must ask…” Shen Wang directed his words toward the man currently engrossed in a book on the adjacent chair. “Is his primary utility strictly limited to managing your housework?”

Wu Que pondered the question for a moment, flipping a page over expressionlessly. “No. On occasion, he also tries to sleep with me.”

“…”

Every single entity in this household is unhinged. Shen Wang was fully aware that certain spiritual tools shared a sensory resonance with their users.

What exactly was the structural point of this divorce if it functions identically to being married?

Hearing the statement, the 【Servant Puppet】 blinked its eyes, directing a deeply expectant, wistful gaze toward Wu Que. “In that case… could you please refrain from rejecting me again tonight?”

“Get back to your work,” Shen Wang barked, delivering a light kick to its frame.

Constantly staring at an exact replica of one’s own face was a profoundly jarring experience—even if it happened to be an exceptionally handsome face. Shen Wang sank deeper into the sofa cushions, resolving to click the television on to block out the distraction.

A short while later, Wu Que left the house to visit the local supermarket, leaving the two of them alone in the residence. The gentle, docile smile instantly vanished from the 【Servant Puppet’s】 face, its expression shifting into something distinctly hostile.

Heh, the little artifact actually possesses two entirely different faces.

“I despise you,” the 【Servant Puppet】 halted its movements, its eyes burning with a deep, toxic resentment.

“Oh. I’m not particularly fond of you either,” Shen Wang replied, flipping through the channels. “Shift to the side, you’re obstructing the screen.”

“Now that you’ve returned, he looks at me even less,” the 【Servant Puppet】 muttered irritably, plonking its bottom onto the far end of the sofa. “Though he rarely paid any attention to me in the past either.”

“Oh.” Shen Wang nodded. Do spiritual tools actually comprehend the fact that they are mere proxies?

“You are the person who established my binding restriction.” The puppet reached up, tracing its palm flat against its chest cavity, where an internal component seemed to be screaming, desperate to tear itself free and return to the body of the man sitting beside it.

“I am not,” Shen Wang denied instantly. Yet, a thought clicked in his brain, prompting him to probe: “What exact parameters did the two of you agree upon? What item did he surrender to you?”

“What item?” The 【Servant Puppet】 stared blankly. It simply continued to clutch its chest, its consciousness appearing incredibly chaotic and muddled. It seemed entirely unable to recall past events, its cognitive processing speed significantly delayed a trait inextricably linked to the status of the user.

Generally speaking, if the user of a spiritual tool perished, the tool would achieve total autonomy. However, if the object surrendered during the binding restriction continued to exist, or if the user’s presence was actively exerting a localized influence over it, the tool would degrade into a state of chaotic malfunction.

For instance, the 【Servant Puppet】 maintained a flawless performance during the day, yet was highly prone to intermittent bouts of psychotic behavior after nightfall.

Then again, it was impossible to generalize completely. There was no way to determine whether this erratic behavior was a newly generated persona birthed from its corruption, or if the original source material had simply always possessed a trace of manipulative green-tea tendency mixed with pure insanity.

Failing to isolate an answer, the 【Servant Puppet】 abandoned the thought, rising to its feet to transition from mopping the floor to organizing the cabinets. As it stood up, its frame accidentally caught the lip of a shopping bag sitting on the table the exact haul they had purchased from the convenience store the previous night.

A can of coffee rolled out of the opening, closely accompanied by the silver square box, which slid across the table surface.

The 【Servant Puppet】 lowered its eyelashes, its long, elegant fingers reaching down to retrieve the silver box. It scanned the item, its internal parameters apparently analyzing its utility. The exact millisecond the data processing concluded, a distinct flush crept up its neck and face though it was impossible to tell whether the reaction was driven by profound embarrassment or raw, incandescent fury.

It fixed its eyes on Shen Wang, its teeth grinding together as it spat out each syllable with slow, venomous precision:

“He actually went out of his way to buy this for you?!”

“……” Shen Wang’s brow twitched upward.

No. You have monumentally misunderstood the situation.