The Unyielding Persona

Yuan Anqing ultimately followed Yuan Zhanhui to his apartment. Yuan Zhanhui claimed he felt unsafe after the “ghostly encounter” at the amusement park, and though Yuan Anqing repeatedly insisted he was merely an ordinary office employee and couldn’t handle supernatural hauntings, he eventually relented.

“You are simply too kind,” Zhuo remarked to Yuan Anqing as they walked.

Kind? Who is kind? The Savior? Yuan Zhanhui, leading the way, felt a surge of bewilderment. He even suspected Yuan Anqing was pointing this out as a subtle form of intimidation, given the Savior’s clear, cold dislike for him.

Yuan Zhanhui’s home was not large, comprising a living room, a bedroom, a kitchen, and a bathroom. The sparse, utilitarian furnishings immediately suggested the owner was a bachelor. The place wasn’t messy, yet it was conspicuously empty of anything personal.

Zhuo had to duck his head to enter the doorway. Upon seeing the living room, his brows furrowed in disgust. “This place is certainly not pretty. Why do you have nunchucks on your coffee table?”

“Those are for when I exercise,” Yuan Zhanhui explained, sounding quite satisfied with his decor.

“And that sword?” Zhuo pointed to a longsword resting on the TV cabinet.

“It looks cool there,” Yuan Zhanhui said, admitting his fondness for collecting cold weapons.

The small living room was cluttered with various calisthenics equipment, and several posters of famous boxers adorned the walls. Yuan Anqing surveyed the room, concluding that Yuan Zhanhui and Zhuo possessed entirely dissimilar personalities.

Yuan Zhanhui was clearly a man who championed raw strength and discipline. Zhuo, however, did not; his strength was innate and effortless. He didn’t value discipline; he simply sought amusement.

“There’s also a smoky smell here,” Zhuo said, wrinkling his nose.

“Impossible, I air the place out every day,” Yuan Zhanhui sniffed but detected nothing. He mopped and cleaned daily; no dirt or residue could possibly remain.

“You’re just not observant enough,” Zhuo declared. After comparing the apartment to his and Yuan Anqing’s residence, he found his own home far superior.

Yuan Zhanhui once again felt goosebumps rise at the petulant, sing-song tone of Zhuo’s voice. “I clean meticulously every day, especially since I exercise and sweat a lot.” He had already given up trying to emulate Zhuo’s specific “vibe”; he simply couldn’t replicate it.

“Don’t you two also work out?” Yuan Zhanhui recalled the surveillance info mentioning their gym visits. He gestured toward Zhuo’s massive bicep as he spoke. “Otherwise, how could your physique be so impressive?”

“…Oh. Well, you’re right,” Zhuo replied slowly.

His physique was entirely natural; he had been exceptionally tall and robust at every stage of his life, irrespective of his lifestyle. The only time his body had ever “betrayed” him was during that period of severe tooth decay.

“Actually, I’m a little curious,” Yuan Zhanhui said as he poured them water. “Your personality doesn’t really resemble any of the fitness enthusiasts I know. You’re far more… uh… elegant than them.”

Achieving a physique like Zhuo’s usually required massive amounts of time and effort. After such exertion, a person typically desired praise, seeking various ways to display their muscular build. Yet, Zhuo seemed to have no such need. His clothes enveloped him tightly; even in the height of summer, Yuan Zhanhui felt warm just looking at him.

Zhuo didn’t constantly exude a “tough guy” aura, which sometimes made him seem like an enormous, soft teddy bear. At other times, Yuan Zhanhui distinctly perceived a hidden disdain in Zhuo’s eyes, as if the monster viewed the world as a trivial game.

Despite his laziness, Zhuo believed his public persona should be that of a tough guy. “Of course I work out. I have a very specific, intense routine.” In reality, he simply enjoyed lounging on the sofa and snacking on candies.

“I can tell, brother!” Yuan Zhanhui decided to lean into the “gym bro” angle to cultivate a relationship with Zhuo. He found Yuan Anqing too difficult to approach, but he and Zhuo at least shared “common interests.” “Your physique is incredibly well-trained!”

“Because I put in the effort,” Zhuo immediately nodded, shamelessly lying.

Effort for what? Yuan Anqing observed Zhuo’s forced composure from the sidelines. If his memory served him correctly, Zhuo’s most strenuous daily activity was merely strolling to the bus stop.

“So, brother, what’s your most frequent exercise?” Yuan Zhanhui’s interest was piqued.

What exercise? Zhuo pondered for a moment, then earnestly replied, “Leg exercises, mostly.” Which, of course, meant walking to the supermarket.

“You must be one of those people who are both naturally gifted and incredibly hardworking,” Yuan Zhanhui marveled.

Zhuo nodded in agreement, looking very solemn. Yuan Anqing, meanwhile, remained a silent observer, wondering how long Zhuo could maintain the act before he got bored.

Subsequently, Yuan Zhanhui invited Zhuo to watch a televised ball game, and Zhuo readily agreed to be polite.

Zhuo hated ball games. He preferred romantic dramas or melodramatic TV series. Sports held no appeal for him; they were merely crude clashes of strength where winning and losing were determined by simple scores. It was far too direct. It lacked the intricate, drawn-out emotional entanglements of romantic conflicts, where winning wasn’t always winning and losing wasn’t always losing. Now that was interesting.

Zhuo sought to appeal to Yuan Anqing for help, but he noticed Yuan Anqing was glancing out the window. The ghost from the haunted house was actually peering into the apartment through the glass, directly facing the Savior.

Oh. Yuan Anqing has abandoned me to do his job, Zhuo realized.

“Brother, which team do you like?” Yuan Zhanhui asked.

“Ah? I… I don’t have a particular favorite. I like them all,” Zhuo stammered.

Yuan Anqing was currently sifting through the ghost’s memories. He had experience now, but it still required a few minutes of mental focus.

This ghost was a hapless child who had died in an accident. Yuan Anqing wove a perfect, peaceful dream for the child’s consciousness, then swiftly and decisively consumed the entity’s lingering resentment.

When his consciousness returned to his body, he found himself locked in Zhuo’s desperate, resentful gaze. Zhuo looked like he was about to die of boredom.

Yuan Anqing: “…”

Yuan Anqing understood the SOS signal and quickly stood up. “I think we can leave now.”

“No more ghosts?” Yuan Zhanhui was surprised. “Really gone?”

“I can guarantee you won’t die in your home tonight,” Yuan Anqing stated. He then felt the statement was too broad, so he corrected himself, “You won’t die in your home due to a ghost. If you encounter any other accidents, like slipping in the shower, there’s nothing I can do.”

“Let’s exchange contact information. I’ll find you again if something comes up?” Yuan Zhanhui realized this was his best chance to secure a line of communication with the target.

Yuan Anqing nodded, sensing it was time to let the bait be taken.

“Old brother, aren’t you going to finish the game before you leave?” Yuan Zhanhui asked Zhuo.

Zhuo was visibly tense. He felt that as a “tough guy,” he should be interested in the playoffs, but the truth was he was seconds away from falling asleep.

“Zhuo,” Yuan Anqing called his name, his voice intentionally cold and demanding. “Now. Immediately. Come back with me.”

Zhuo’s eyes widened slightly, and the tip of his tail twitched in relief. He knew Yuan Anqing was bailing him out.

Ah, there’s no place for a healthy relationship with a Savior, Yuan Zhanhui sighed, observing the scene. This talented athlete, in order to keep the Savior happy, is actually humbling himself and hiding his true personality. Tsk tsk tsk. For the authorities to go to such lengths of submission… this Savior is truly a terrifying, dominant tyrant.

Yuan Anqing walked ahead with a cold expression, while the massive Zhuo followed cautiously behind him, acting as if he were afraid of angering his formidable master.

This state persisted until they returned to their own home. Once Zhuo confirmed they weren’t being watched, he immediately lunged and embraced the stone-faced Yuan Anqing. “I hate that copycat! He forced me to watch humans kick a ball for an hour!”

“He didn’t force you; he asked you,” Yuan Anqing said, exasperated. “You were the one trying to maintain a ‘tough guy’ persona.” He didn’t understand why Zhuo was so fixated on the image of a gym bro.

Just then, Yuan Anqing’s phone buzzed. He glanced at it. “Oh. He wants to invite us to his private gym tomorrow.”

“I don’t want to go!” Zhuo vehemently protested. Yuan Zhanhui would undoubtedly ask for his bench press stats or his supplement routine. “Just tell him we’re working tomorrow!”

“But tomorrow is a statutory holiday,” Yuan Anqing reminded him. “Our company isn’t hard to investigate; he’ll know we’re off.”

“Then just say I’m severely injured!” Zhuo insisted, determined to avoid the treadmill.

“Do you think it’s possible for you, the Watcher of a powerful Savior, to be easily injured?” Yuan Anqing asked.

Zhuo’s attention instantly shifted. “Wait. Why would he think we’re in that kind of relationship?”

“Our intimate behavior is a bit excessive for ‘just friends,'” Yuan Anqing said. He believed this was mainly Zhuo’s fault, as the monster had zero concept of personal boundaries.

“So he thinks you’re my little boyfriend?” Zhuo found this incredibly novel. “But we didn’t even kiss in front of him.”

“Judging a relationship doesn’t always rely on kissing,” Yuan Anqing said, feeling helpless. Zhuo was so contradictory—he could see through all human desires, yet he was socially oblivious. “People infer relationships through interaction and the way two people look at each other.”

“So, for our future performances, do we need to kiss in front of him? Should I chew minty gum?” Zhuo was suddenly quite eager to try kissing; he was curious about the “magic” of it.

“No need to kiss. Not all emotions are expressed that way,” Yuan Anqing said, trying to dampen the monster’s excitement.

“How else do we prove we’re having an affair without kissing?” Zhuo found vague assumptions unreliable.

“It’s just that we won’t kiss in front of him. If he believes we are partners, then he’ll assume we’re intimate in private.”

“But we need to make that imagination a reality to be convincing!” Zhuo pondered for a moment, then his eyes lit up. “I can make my lips look red and swollen, so it looks like we just finished a long session!”

Yuan Anqing sighed. He didn’t object to Zhuo using makeup or magic to change his lip color; it was better than an actual forced kiss.

“And I can also create some red marks on my neck and chest!” Zhuo added enthusiastically. “To show him how intense our ‘battle’ was!”

Yuan Anqing: “…”

Zhuo didn’t dare to suggest leaving marks on Yuan Anqing, fearing the Savior would incinerate him.

“Then you’ll have to support me when we walk!” Zhuo grew more excited by the second. “I’ll act as if I’m utterly exhausted and broken! That way, when we get to the gym, I won’t have to do any of those mechanical exercises! I’ll just say I ‘don’t have the strength’!” He said this with a bright, triumphant smile.

“ZHUO!!!” Yuan Anqing interrupted him loudly, his voice echoing in the apartment.

“What’s wrong?” Zhuo was startled.

Yuan Anqing reached up, grabbed the crystalline horns on Zhuo’s head, and began shaking the monster’s head back and forth violently. “Get those disgusting thoughts out of your mind right now! Immediately! Move!”