The “Silly” Master

Looking at the man kneeling on one knee before the sofa, staring at him with a foolish grin, Ye Shengge wanted nothing more than to retreat dozens of meters away.

This giant of a man looked clumsy and prone to lack of restraint at a glance. For some reason, he also seemed to love crowding into other people’s personal space.

Force that felt “light” to this giant would likely leave Ye Shengge covered in black and blue bruises, as if he’d been severely beaten. Appearance aside, it would definitely hurt.

And Ye Shengge was terrified of pain.

Thinking of this, he didn’t care about the embarrassment or the shame anymore. He glared fiercely at Peng Biao and gave a cold snort: “I already know I’m beautiful, but what does that have to do with you?”

Perfect. This line not only maintained the dollmaker’s persona but also served to make the giant back off, discouraging any further proximity or strange comments.

However, Peng Biao completely failed to hear the disdain and rejection in the youth’s voice. Instead, his eyes lit up, and he couldn’t resist moving a small step closer to the beautiful boy who was huddling further back into the sofa corner.

“You’ve misunderstood me. Wen Jishi and I are strictly business partners; there’s nothing else between us.” Peng Biao took the initiative, completely ignoring Wen Jishi standing nearby. Like a man sincerely coaxing a jealous girlfriend, he knelt before the sofa and explained himself with humble earnestness.

These were exactly the words Wen Jishi had wanted—he had even given up significant profits as a reward to get Peng Biao to cooperate with this explanation.

But seeing Peng Biao kneeling before the sofa, carefully explaining himself to his neighbor for the sake of profit, Wen Jishi felt a sharp pang of distress. The scene was incredibly eyesore-inducing, and he felt a sudden urge to pull the overly eager Peng Biao away from his neighbor’s side.

Of course, Wen Jishi only harbored these dark thoughts in his mind; in reality, he did nothing.

After all, Peng Biao was a man whose heart and mind were solely focused on making money. He didn’t have a romantic bone in his body. Even if he did one day develop an interest in love, he was the type of “straight man” who fantasized about a wife, children, and a warm hearth.

Moreover, Wen Jishi was the middleman providing Peng Biao with his best money-making opportunities. Reason dictates that Peng Biao would never covet his neighbor while knowing Wen Jishi liked him—not right under his nose.

Thinking this way, Wen Jishi felt momentarily relieved.

Still, he didn’t want anyone else interacting with his neighbor for too long, especially a clumsy oaf like this.

Couldn’t he see the neighbor was huddled into a ball, piteously cowering in the corner of the sofa because of him?

Seeing that Peng Biao wanted to lean in closer to say something else, Wen Jishi finally couldn’t take it. He stepped forward, pulling Peng Biao back while turning to his frightened neighbor: “Now you can finally believe me. You know those rumors were false, right?”

Without waiting for Ye Shengge to answer, Wen Jishi turned to his “tool” partner: “Didn’t you say you had a lot of work to do? Since you’ve explained everything, we don’t need you here anymore. You can go back to your busy schedule.”

Wen Jishi never liked making himself uncomfortable. Once he realized Peng Biao’s proximity made him uneasy, he decided to kick him out.

To anyone else, this would look like a blatant case of “discarding the tool after use.”

But Wen Jishi felt he had provided more than enough compensation, so he didn’t feel the slightest bit guilty about burning the bridge after crossing it.

However, Peng Biao, who had found something far more dazzling and enticing than money, wasn’t about to leave so easily. He would rather give up all those generous rewards.

“I’m already here, there’s no rush.” Peng Biao stood up following Wen Jishi’s pull, but his smile was blindingly bright as he looked at Ye Shengge: “Besides, I have something important to tell you.”

Though he didn’t specify who the “you” was, he was facing Ye Shengge directly.

The smile in Wen Jishi’s eyes slowly vanished.

He finally understood what it meant to “invite a god in but struggle to send him away.”

Judging by Peng Biao’s abnormal reaction, the man had clearly developed inappropriate thoughts about his neighbor. After all, what “important business” could Peng Biao possibly have with a shut-in youth?

In Wen Jishi’s eyes, Peng Biao was just trying to show off and capture the neighbor’s attention!

For the first time, Wen Jishi regretted his decision. He should never have let Peng Biao come over.

Unfortunately, this was his neighbor’s house, so he couldn’t lose his temper and force Peng Biao out. He could only suppress his displeasure and give a thin smile, speaking pointedly: “Only if Shengge is willing to listen. If he’s not, you can’t force him to hear you out. Right?”

Hearing the sharp edge in Wen Jishi’s voice, Peng Biao immediately guessed that the man had noticed his little crush.

But even so, he didn’t feel guilty. As far as he knew, the boy was just the person Wen Jishi pined for; they weren’t together at all.

Furthermore, judging by the boy’s attitude toward Wen Jishi, he didn’t seem to like him much, either.

Who wouldn’t be haunted by such an enticing youth?

Peng Biao thought to himself: So what if he’s your crush? From now on, he’s mine too. He was the kind of boy who gave off an intoxicating, sweet scent the moment you got close—one that made you want to pull him into your arms and sniff him thoroughly.

As long as he and Wen Jishi weren’t together, he always had a chance.

Even if Wen Jishi and the boy were together, it wouldn’t be a big deal. There was no law in the country stating that couples couldn’t break up.

As long as he pursued the boy desperately, there would eventually be a day he succeeded. And if he didn’t succeed, he would keep trying until he died.

One day, the boy would finally see him and agree to be with him.

If he could win the boy over, he would treat him incredibly well—like a precious doll. He would do everything personally, taking the boy wherever he wanted to go or to interesting places to play.

He’d heard the boy was very delicate and hated going out, so he probably wouldn’t want to go to crowded places.

But that didn’t matter. He was tall and strong with incredible strength; he could easily carry the boy on his shoulders to see the sights. He could let the boy see views that others couldn’t even dream of. Surely then, the boy would be willing to go out with him…

Even Peng Biao found it hard to believe that after just one meeting and a few sentences, he was already excitedly planning their life together.

As he imagined it, the scenes in his head felt like they had already happened, giving him a sudden boost of confidence. He didn’t give his long-time partner any face, replying sarcastically: “Whether I force him to listen is anyone’s guess. But after you begged and pleaded just to get him to see you once, why do you think I can’t convince him to listen to me?”

“Is that so?” Hearing those provocative words, Wen Jishi’s face went completely cold. The smile vanished, replaced by a chilling sternness.

He looked expressionlessly at the youth curled on the sofa and asked in a calm, flat voice: “Shengge, do you think he’s right?”

Meeting that hidden, sharp gaze, Ye Shengge’s heart skipped a beat. Like a child caught by a teacher doing something wrong, he reflexively sat up straight and cross-legged on the sofa. He looked blankly at the man who not only looked like his real brother but now sounded exactly like him too. He nodded instinctively, his voice soft and sweet enough to melt anyone’s heart: “Right, you’re right.”

Just as he spoke, he noticed his “brother’s” face growing even colder, while the giant staring excitedly at him from a distance turned red, looking like he wanted to rush over and hug him.

Realizing what he had just said, he quickly shook his head and weakly corrected himself: “He’s… he’s wrong.”

The giant’s flushed face instantly froze. He looked like a large, abandoned dog staring piteously at its master.

Wen Jishi, however, let out a gentle smile—exactly like the one he used to coax his little neighbor when they were kids—and said softly: “Shengge is such a good boy.”

Seeing this smile, which was completely different from his real brother’s, Ye Shengge was finally able to separate Wen Jishi from his real brother. He no longer felt massive pressure or psychological trauma.

However, he felt a bit curious. He really wanted to know what important thing the giant had to tell him.

As if they were mentally connected, the giant spoke up the moment Shengge finished the thought.

“I sense something ‘unclean’ in your house. Have you been followed by something dirty lately? Or have you encountered anything strange?” Peng Biao spoke rapidly. Fearing Ye Shengge wouldn’t believe him, he quickly added: “Believe me, I wouldn’t lie to you. That ‘unclean’ thing smells really foul. It’s definitely not a good thing.”

The addition of “definitely not a good thing” was unnecessary; if it was “unclean,” it obviously wasn’t good.

But Ye Shengge wasn’t concerned about the fact that his house was haunted—he already knew that the “unclean things” were the doll bosses. What he truly cared about was how this goofy-looking giant knew.

He thought it, and he asked it.

Seeing that the youth was actually listening and seemed to believe him, Peng Biao’s disappointment and hurt vanished instantly. He grinned so wide he looked exceptionally silly.

Blushing, he told the boy: “I’m a self-taught Heavenly Master. I can sense things ordinary people can’t. I’ve made quite a bit of money by fortune-telling and checking Feng Shui. But I’m not like other men—I don’t have any bad habits, and I spend very little. I’ve saved all my money for my future partner…”

The first half was normal, but the second half was heavily laden with personal motives. It sounded more like he was on a blind date with the boy than answering why he knew about the ghosts.

Ye Shengge ignored the second half of the speech and asked the system in disbelief: [Is he the “cheat code” NPC? The mysterious, cold, and bug-like Heavenly Master who helps players suppress the doll bosses?]

Looking at the newly unlocked permissions for the “Cheat NPC” identity, even the system glitched for a moment. Finally, it spoke with a complicated tone: [It’s him.]

Hearing the system’s confirmation, Ye Shengge’s eyes widened. He asked again: [Are you absolutely sure there’s no mistake?!]

[I’m certain. It’s him.] The system wasn’t even annoyed at being questioned. When its permissions unlocked and it saw the identity of the NPC who could help players clear the dungeon, its first reaction was exactly like Ye Shengge’s—wondering if there was a mistake somewhere.

But no matter how many times it checked, the result was the same.

The system could only swallow its disbelief. The legendary, mysterious, and cold Heavenly Master who could suppress resentful doll bosses was indeed this giant in front of them—smiling like a fool at the host, looking more like a boxer or a farmer than a sage-like master.