The Bamboo Horse’s Return

Upon hearing that gentle voice, so diametrically opposite to his own brother’s, Ye Shengge’s expression instantly collapsed into utter disappointment.

The man before him looked exactly like his brother, but he was not him.

When his real brother was starting his business in college, many people looked down on him because of his youth. To make himself appear more mature and authoritative, his brother had developed a habit of using a cold, stern persona to shield himself.

After becoming Shengge’s guardian, his brother had tried countless times to correct this, fearing he would scare his pampered, timid little brother. However, the results were minimal; even his forced smiles had a comical, “skin-deep” quality to them, until he eventually gave up the struggle.

But the man standing here, despite having the same face, smiled naturally. He radiated a refined warmth from the inside out, like a spring breeze. He was the polar opposite of Shengge’s brother. Aside from the face, there was absolutely no comparison.

Then again, it made sense. This wasn’t the real world; it was a dungeon. How could his brother possibly appear here?

This man was clearly a part of the dollmaker’s role—the childhood friend who grew up with him, the first love who had been abroad for years, and the “Bamboo Horse” brother, Wen Jishi, who had sent the voice message that nearly caused him to slip up.

After a brief moment of loss, Ye Shengge quickly shifted into task mode. Following his character’s settings, he forcefully pushed away the childhood friend who was hugging him. He spoke in a huffy, displeased tone: “Don’t flatter yourself. That wasn’t you I was calling for.”

This statement wasn’t a lie. Given Ye Shengge’s introverted nature, if he hadn’t mistaken Wen Jishi for his real-world brother, he would never have spontaneously hugged a stranger, let alone burst into tears in front of one.

However, Wen Jishi didn’t believe a single word of it.

He looked helplessly at the youth who was so clearly trying to cover his tracks. With a light chuckle, he asked softly: “Then tell me, if the ‘brother’ you were calling wasn’t me, who else could it be?”

It wasn’t that he was conceited, but before returning to the country, he had specifically asked around about Ye Shengge’s past. He discovered that after he went abroad, Ye Shengge had fallen into a long period of depression, refusing to interact or communicate with anyone. Once he found his interest in creating doll lovers, his contact with the outside world lessened even further. Usually, aside from buying materials, he never even left the house, let alone had anyone else he could call “brother.”

These facts made Wen Jishi, who was living abroad, feel immense guilt. But he didn’t regret refusing his young neighbor’s proposal to “keep” him and choosing to go abroad alone instead.

Because Wen Jishi knew that his neighbor’s feelings for him were not much different from his feelings for a rare toy. No matter how much Shengge said he liked him, he wouldn’t care about Wen Jishi’s feelings or will; he only wanted to make him his possession, with the constant possibility of being tossed aside once the novelty wore off.

Just like those dolls made to be lovers—they could be abandoned at any time, with zero right to say no.

Wen Jishi didn’t mind being treated as a possession by his cute, exquisite neighbor or having all his other friends driven away. But he cared about being abandoned without hesitation in the future.

He was selfish. He knew that feelings needed time to ferment. Even if the neighbor didn’t have deep feelings for him now, time could brew them. Furthermore, he wanted to work hard to increase his own power so that the neighbor could never get rid of him. Thus, he had hardened his heart to go abroad for further study.

If there was one thing he regretted, it was being dragged down by those “damn things,” preventing his return until now. He regretted not seeing his increasingly dazzling neighbor sooner.

But there was plenty of time in the future. He could slowly make up for the regrets left behind.

Thinking of this, the smile in Wen Jishi’s eyes deepened.

But Ye Shengge didn’t want to smile at all. He felt choked by the man’s words. His eyes grew red with anger, like a small rabbit’s, as he glared fiercely at Wen Jishi: “None of your business!”

Being snapped at didn’t make Wen Jishi angry. He leaned down slightly, using a coaxing, gentle tone to ask the neighbor whose eyes were misting over with tears: “Stop being angry, okay? I’ll do whatever you want.”

Hearing this, Ye Shengge couldn’t help but frown.

For some reason, he felt as though this childhood friend was wearing a hidden mask. He wasn’t as refined and elegant as he appeared on the surface; there was an unidentifiable, strange feeling about him.

Ye Shengge trusted his intuition.

He didn’t want to continue interacting with this “brother.”

Just then, scenes from the dungeon’s plot regarding the breakup between the childhood friend and the dollmaker flashed through his mind.

He had a sudden inspiration. If he proactively triggered the “landmines” the childhood friend hated in the original plot—and forced him to agree to things he disliked—could he break up with him early?

It seemed feasible.

This would fit his character setting and reduce his time spent with Wen Jishi. It was perfect!

“You said it yourself. I do have something I need you to do, so don’t you dare go back on your word.” Ye Shengge gave a light cough, pretending to have been coaxed. He moved aside to let Wen Jishi into the house.

Wen Jishi was straightforward. He stepped inside with a gentle smile and a nod: “Of course. I’ll agree to anything you say.”

Hearing this, Ye Shengge gave a cold huff. He thought to himself: In the original plot, you didn’t agree. You even turned your back on the dollmaker.

As expected, the words of a man like this couldn’t be trusted.

However, Ye Shengge didn’t say any of this out loud.

Wen Jishi saw the disbelief in his eyes. After sitting on the sofa, he took the initiative to speak, staring intently at the exquisitely beautiful youth: “So, have you thought about what you want me to do?”

Ye Shengge, who was still lost in thought, was successfully pulled back to reality by those words.

Meeting Wen Jishi’s warm, clear eyes, he felt a strange, inexplicable bitterness in his heart. He thought to himself: Since the party involved said so, I shouldn’t let this kindness go to waste.

With that, Ye Shengge intentionally mimicked the “drama queen” behavior of the dollmaker from the plot. He asked sarcastically: “You’d better stop saying things like that, lest your ‘friend’ gets the wrong idea.”

This line originally occurred in the plot when the dollmaker attended a party and overheard someone mention that Wen Jishi had a very close friend abroad. He had flown into a rage and intentionally used those words to prick Wen Jishi.

In the original plot, the childhood friend had been tired because such interrogations had happened countless times in just a few days. Still, he had explained patiently, telling the dollmaker that he and that person only had a business relationship and weren’t even friends.

But the dollmaker hadn’t believed the sincere explanation. Using the hearsay he’d gathered, he maliciously slandered Wen Jishi and his unwitting partner, forcing Wen Jishi to choose between them.

Naturally, Wen Jishi had refused such an unreasonable demand.

But the dollmaker didn’t give up. He continued to cause trouble, even going as far as finding the legendary friend to show him what happened to those who offended him.

Only after meeting the friend did the dollmaker realize it was all a misunderstanding.

The partner was a blunt, straight man with a physique like a bear; even if he were gay, he’d clearly be the one on top and couldn’t possibly be involved with Wen Jishi.

But how could the arrogant dollmaker admit he was wrong? He insisted on harassing the man, moving from small pranks to escalating offenses that eventually harmed innocent bystanders.

The farce only ended when the resentful dolls locked in the house went out of control and killed the dollmaker.

Now, Ye Shengge—having taken on the dollmaker’s role—only wanted to leave a bad impression of being unreasonable and annoying so Wen Jishi would get tired of him. He didn’t want to go make a fool of himself in front of the partner, and he definitely didn’t want to die.

So, he had to stir up trouble, but he had to maintain a sense of proportion.

Believing he understood the boundaries, Ye Shengge didn’t wait for the explanation and continued his accusation: “You don’t need to explain to me. Everyone says so. There’s no smoke without fire. You definitely have a relationship with him. Stop lying to me.”

These words were not only unreasonable but also brainless, lacking any adult judgment. Even Ye Shengge felt embarrassed saying them.

He thought confidently: Now, he should hate me.

However, after a brief moment of stunned surprise, a flash of extremely bright, excited light crossed Wen Jishi’s eyes. He was so moved that his words were a bit disjointed, but the meaning was easy to grasp.

“He and I are strictly business partners. It’s not what others say.” After saying that, he added cautiously: “Are you… jealous?”

Wen Jishi asked the last part very carefully, not forgetting to peek at the neighbor’s irritated, frowning face.

Ye Shengge, who had been joyfully waiting for the childhood friend to be disappointed in him, looked blankly at Wen Jishi as he cautiously explained himself. He didn’t understand how things had turned out this way, and he felt incredibly frustrated.

He was certain that, timing aside, every word he spoke was something that should have caused Wen Jishi’s resentment. Why was Wen Jishi explaining himself so carefully instead of being repulsed?

It was truly bizarre…

What Ye Shengge found even harder to understand came next.

Seeing his neighbor’s frustrated frown, Wen Jishi’s heart was filled with chagrin.

He felt his explanation had no persuasive power, which was why the neighbor was so unhappy. He simply took out his phone and dialed a number right in front of him.

Someone picked up. Before they could ask anything, Wen Jishi cut them off.

“I’m sending you my location. Come here immediately.” Wen Jishi used a declarative sentence, leaving no room for discussion.

After speaking, he quickly hung up and looked at Ye Shengge earnestly: “He’ll be here in a moment. You’ll know we have no relationship at all once you see him.”

Ye Shengge’s breath hitched. He forced himself to ask: “You’re joking, right? Or… did you really call him here?”

Wen Jishi frowned, his tone incredibly serious: “I would never lie to you.”

Ye Shengge: “…”

Everything went black before Ye Shengge’s eyes as two large words drifted through his mind:

— I’m screwed!

He knew Wen Jishi had absolutely no relationship with the business partner.

But that wasn’t the problem. The problem was that when the man worked so hard to rush over, thinking there was something important to do, only to find out it was for such a childish drama of suspicion and explanation, what would he think of Shengge?

This wasn’t just a simple “social death.”

The mere thought of it made Ye Shengge feel like he was suffocating.