The Gloomy Paper-Man Came to My Door to Pursue His Love - Chapter 13

Quiet.

Or rather, a state of aphasia.

Xi Li stared at the person who was now within arm’s reach.

It wasn’t that his fiancé had never confessed to him before. He had done so on social media, in media interviews, and even within the messages from blacklisted accounts that had been barred from his sight.

In fact, just a second before entering the main storyline, Xi Li had been browsing his fiancé’s StarBlog.

The account was registered five years ago during the summer, at a time that happened to be right after Xi Li’s rut had ended. At that time, the First Prince was using the death of an Omega to stir up trouble, and the internet was flooded with scandals regarding his reputation for “playing an Omega to death.”

Consequently, the very first StarBlog post his fiancé published after registering was: “He is not that kind of person.”

Initially, Xi Li’s intention was to simply make those media outlets disappear. However, before he could act, this single post from his fiancé managed to shift public opinion.

Netizens collectively agreed that with a 100% compatibility rating and a fiancé possessing such peerless beauty, the Little Highness would have to be out of his mind to neglect his partner and mess around elsewhere.

Over the next two years, his fiancé posted a total of 389 entries, 250 of which were related to him.

The one that left the deepest impression on Xi Li was the line, “I can see you clearly.” This StarBlog entry was posted on their second engagement anniversary.

It even made the front page of the Interstellar Daily that day.

Xi Li had not understood it, and his rough military subordinates, who were just as uncultured as he was, could not understand it either. It was not until he asked a military clerk that he learned its meaning.

“In the Kazakh culture of ancient Earth, friendship or love between people arises from being seen. Therefore, in the ancient Kazakh language, ‘I see you clearly’ means ‘I like you.'”

That was how the clerk had explained it.

Xi Li put down the Interstellar Daily and said, “I will lead today’s drills myself.”

“Also,” he added, “from now on, the only newspapers allowed in the barracks are military ones.”

Some media interviews had also questioned his fiancé’s feelings.

“What is it that you like about the Little Highness?”

His fiancé did not answer with words; instead, a shy affection melted into a silent smile.

The Little Highness was iron-blooded and ruthless, remaining immune to these subtle, seemingly insincere confessions.

But this was the first time Xi Li had witnessed a confession from his fiancé that was so burning and sincere.

He looked at Qin Fei. Qin Fei’s eyes were too deep. When cold, they were blades that carved out a person’s weaknesses; when warm, they were a pool of misty ripples that could make someone lose themselves if they were not careful.

Xi Li looked away. As an S-class Alpha, he had a sharp perception of danger. He possessed powerful self-restraint and would absolutely not fall into a trap meticulously set by an enemy.

He knew Qin Fei’s goal was nothing more than increasing “Intimacy.”

Xi Li could not help but grind his back teeth. This person was truly exasperating. For the sake of a game, he could say such shameless things three times in a row.

Xi Li took a deep breath and asked, “What do you want to do?”

He was asking about Qin Fei’s node task. As long as he helped Qin Fei complete the task, they could exit the main storyline.

He could not stand staying in this plot for another second.

His question was cryptic enough, but it achieved its purpose.

As if reminded of something, Qin Fei looked up at the top right corner of the game screen. To avoid interfering with the player’s experience, the game icons were highly transparent, appearing like faint watermarks. They only glowed when there was a notification, and right now, the Task icon was pulsing with light.

The Terminal said, “The task icon has been lit for 37 minutes.”

Qin Fei was surprised. Thirty-seven minutes ago, he had not even started interacting physically with the character. How had he missed the notification?

On second thought, 37 minutes ago, he was likely busy admiring the character demonstrating the shoulder-bump greeting.

When the character performed the bump, his collar would open slightly. From Qin Fei’s seat, he could see the Alpha gland on the left side of the character’s neck. Because he was a SSS-class Alpha, the gland was slightly larger, its contours distinct and smooth, pulsing with strength and power.

It seems my level of attraction has reached the point where I cannot even see task notifications, Qin Fei thought, checking the task without a shred of shame.

Task: Elvis’s meeting gift is truly special. You must practice more to gain his approval.

Like the 1-1 node task, the 1-2 task was not explicitly clear.

Qin Fei guessed that the task involved gaining the character’s approval. After all, in this entire classroom, only the character, acting as the etiquette teacher, was qualified to give it.

In other words, the goal was to get a compliment from the character.

At least, that was how he understood it.

Qin Fei turned his gaze back to the character, only to find that the man had already distanced himself further than when they were standing face-to-face. He was staring at Qin Fei with a complex look, even tinged with a bit of wariness.

What an interesting reaction. If he could, Qin Fei wanted to indulge himself a bit longer.

However, he felt the faint signs of a looming sensitivity period. The last suppressor had worn off, and he needed to leave the game to reinject it.

But if he saved and restarted later, he felt the emotional momentum would be broken.

Qin Fei wanted to finish the 1-2 plot in one go and see if his authentic self could trigger a change in Intimacy.

Qin Fei opened his lips and called out, “Teacher Shabei.”

The title made Xi Li look over with a heavy frown.

Perhaps because of the 1-1 task, where the character had openly admitted the brooch was his gift, Qin Fei asked directly, “Can you give me your approval?”

As soon as the words left his mouth, he saw Xi Li’s expression shift. He looked like he wanted to lose his temper, then held it back, then wanted to again, then stopped. His face turned various shades of pale and flushed, and his hands were clenched into tight fists.

Qin Fei wondered, “Is my request that outrageous? Did he not praise me in the 1-1 plot?”

Just as Qin Fei was considering a more tactful approach, a tall shadow suddenly loomed over him. Before he could look up, his right shoulder was bumped.

Caught off guard, Qin Fei reclined backward, but a strong arm immediately wrapped around his waist, pinning him firmly in place.

By the time Qin Fei managed to lift his head, that sturdy arm had already retracted. He saw the character with his head held high and lips pressed thin, surreptitiously rotating his right shoulder.

This time, the character did not use as much force. Instead, he gently touched Qin Fei’s left shoulder with his own right shoulder.

Qin Fei froze for a moment before realizing the truth.

The shoulder-bump greeting was reciprocal. When you approved of someone, you responded with the same gesture.

The character’s bump was a brief touch, as if Qin Fei were toxic. He merely grazed him like a dragonfly skimming water before quickly withdrawing his broad shoulders.

Before Qin Fei could savor the meaning behind the response, the screen froze. The last thing Qin Fei saw before exiting the main plot was the character’s exceptionally grim expression.

He wondered if he had poisoned him.

Having exited the main plot, Qin Fei could only use the Terminal to contact the character. He sent a message.

Qin Fei: Shabei, are you okay?

However, a long time passed without a reply.

Qin Fei realized something. The Intimacy guide clearly stated that once Intimacy reached 5%, basically every message would receive a response.

Qin Fei opened the Intimacy tab. The heart was still completely empty.

He pressed his lips together.

The Terminal consoled him, “It must be a game bug. How could the 1-2 node task not increase Intimacy?”

To provide evidence for its consolation, the Terminal added, “Besides, the 1-2 node did not even send you a card.”

Qin Fei replied, “Who taught you how to comfort people like that?”

He opened the 1-2 section. Sure enough, the node was complete and clumsily named “Shoulder-Bump Greeting,” but there was no card.

“Turn it off,” he said.

Qin Fei got out of bed to find his suppressors.

The game shut down, and the Terminal retracted its light particles.

In the first-class cabin, only a small lamp was lit. Qin Fei unpacked a suppressor, sank into the sofa, and skillfully injected himself.

In the dim light, the Terminal on his wrist suddenly flashed a red light.

Data flowed. Deep within the code, Xi Li was drenched in sweat, looking as if he had just been fished out of water.

The lines for the video recorded this time were simply ridiculous.

“Every time I hear your confession, my heart beats. It beats like a terror haunting my soul. Devouring emotions, like fire, burn through my entire body. To avoid being consumed by you, I can only hide like a coward.”

Xi Li had refused to record the video for no particular reason.

He had succeeded.

Though his body was numb with pain, as if he had been pierced by lasers and his tissues turned to mush, Xi Li did not gloat over this single success. He knew that as long as he was in the game, he would be repeatedly subjected to meaningless commands.

He had to leave as soon as possible.

It was not just the main plot he needed to escape.

Previously, Xi Li had tried to reach StarBlog through the game’s sharing path. Unless Qin Fei shared elsewhere, the destination remained StarBlog.

This time, Xi Li tried to leave via port scanning. This was difficult because modern Terminal security levels were very high.

The next second, Xi Li looked up with a complex expression.

He had not expected to succeed on the first try. His fiancé’s Terminal was far too easy to hack. The ports were running on ancient patches and were riddled with holes like a honeycomb.

Moreover, because the hardware was so old, his partial consciousness data far exceeded the Terminal’s buffer capacity. The moment he touched it, the Terminal crashed.

But the Terminal’s intelligent algorithm was not bad. He had to leave within approximately 20 minutes, or the Terminal would realize what was happening.

If his consciousness data were detected, he would truly fall into his fiancé’s hands.

Twenty minutes was more than enough. He only needed to send one message to the military.

“I am located in host ExclusiveABO-Server-01, server serial number ZABO10000001Server, find me secretly. Signed, Xi Li.”

Xi Li finished drafting the message. Just as he was about to send it, he suddenly heard a gasp.

Through the Terminal’s camera, Xi Li saw his fiancé huddled in the darkness, wearing thin pajamas without even a blanket.

The man spoke with a heavy nasal tone, sounding deeply puzzled and unable to let it go. “I have gone this far. Why has the Intimacy still not increased?”