A Tentative Truce: Popcorn, Movies, and Unexpected Help

Yuan Anqing had never imagined that the old idiom, ‘It’s hard to learn good habits, but easy to go astray,’ would one day apply to a man-eating chimera.

Of course, Yuan Anqing had never expected to encounter a being like Zhuo in the first place.

After Bai Tian and his security team arrived to escort the terrified mother away, Yuan Anqing led Zhuo into the theater lobby to await their movie. He purchased a massive bucket of popcorn.

Zhuo was initially wary of this kind of “unclean” outside food, but his caution didn’t last long. Barely ten minutes before the movie began, Zhuo had single-handedly devoured the entire bucket. Yuan Anqing had no choice but to go buy more.

After the movie concluded, Zhuo proactively suggested they eat lunch out. Perhaps having already broken his rule to consume outside food once, doing so again seemed perfectly acceptable.

“The structure of this film was quite good. While the underlying concept wasn’t particularly novel, it was executed with considerable originality,” Zhuo remarked, resting his chin on his hand as he gazed at Yuan Anqing from across the restaurant table. “What did you think?”

“Me? I’m utterly stunned.” Yuan Anqing could sense Zhuo’s exhilarated mood, yet he genuinely couldn’t perceive any brilliance in the movie.

“You’re so boring,” Zhuo retorted, pouting.

“I don’t think it’s my fault this time.” Yuan Anqing had watched the entire film from beginning to end, blinking rarely.

It wasn’t that Yuan Anqing had never seen a movie before, but this one had truly shaken him to his core. “Do sub-species in this world truly split into another self during their mature phase?”

“Is that strange?” Zhuo asked him.

“To me, it’s incredibly strange,” Yuan Anqing affirmed.

The movie had depicted a tragic tale of misguided love, but Yuan Anqing’s focus remained fixated purely on the female protagonist’s biology. The female lead belonged to a sub-species that physically split into two bodies during their mature phase. One self was called a ‘reproductive body,’ and its sole purpose was to fall in love, find a partner, and procreate.

The original body, however, had no need to concern itself with such matters. Devoid of emotion or abundant desires, they were simply meant to work.

“Such a divided existence is far too extreme.” Yuan Anqing took a sip of tea and opened the menu. “I can only perceive the horror in it.”

“Oh? Fear for your own future?” Zhuo asked with a sharp smile.

“What else is there for my future to look forward to?” Yuan Anqing asked nonchalantly. He turned a page of the menu and looked up. “Do you want soda or regular fruit juice?”

Zhuo’s attention was instantly diverted. “What kind of regular fruit juice do they have?”

Yuan Anqing handed the menu over.

Zhuo immediately made his selection. “Corn juice. I like the sweet, glutinous taste.”

Indeed, Zhuo was in a very good mood now—especially since he hadn’t needed to fight or explain his choices to Yuan Anqing.

Tap, tap, tap.

A rhythmic sound began to echo under the table. Yuan Anqing glanced down, discovering it was the thick tip of Zhuo’s tail tapping against the floor tiles like a dog’s.

“Are you happy?” Yuan Anqing decided to ask directly.

“I’m always happy, aren’t I?” Zhuo tilted his head, feigning innocence. “Don’t I smile often?”

“You smile often,” Yuan Anqing agreed mildly, playing along. He called the waiter over and handed them the menu.

Zhuo did smile often, but that didn’t necessarily mean he was cheerful. He smiled when he was angry, when he was threatening murder, and when he was eating people.

Yuan Anqing suspected Zhuo might not have many friends. Perhaps he had been so stifled by Yuan Anqing’s lifeless routine these past few days that simply being outside felt like a liberation. Or perhaps eating food from a restaurant was a grand adventure in Zhuo’s mind—a peculiar thrill, akin to a student secretly snacking in class.

“Um, sirs, are you sure about this quantity?” The waiter’s voice broke Yuan Anqing’s train of thought.

“We have rather large appetites,” Yuan Anqing said, pushing up his glasses. “We’ll pack up any leftovers.”

“Oh, right. Just needed to confirm you hadn’t made a mistake.” The waiter glanced at Zhuo’s two-meter frame, concluding it was normal for such a large sub-species to consume a family-sized meal.

Once the waiter left, Zhuo playfully asked, “We have large appetites? Your appetite isn’t large at all, Savior.”

“I just didn’t know if you’d mind people commenting on how much you eat alone,” Yuan Anqing explained.

“Oh~ you’re thinking of me. How thoughtful.” The sarcastic, dangerous edge returned to Zhuo’s voice.

“I think we can occasionally engage in some appropriate recreational activities,” Yuan Anqing continued smoothly. “We can’t get rid of each other, so we must find a way to adapt to each other’s habits.”

Zhuo blinked, remaining silent.

“My work in my previous world almost completely consumed my life, so I haven’t adapted to having free time here very well. During my rest days, I’d try every means to get more sleep, preparing to handle whatever crisis my boss threw at me next,” Yuan Anqing said, taking a sip of tea.

“Eh?” Zhuo seemed a little confused. “Are you self-reflecting?”

“No, I’m just telling you why I am the way I am,” Yuan Anqing said, looking at Zhuo. “You find being with me torturous, and I don’t feel entirely at ease either. So, we can find a compromise that makes both of us more comfortable.”

Given the inability to change their current situation, they should at least try to make it tolerable. If no one was unhappy, no one would cause trouble, and life’s difficulties would be minimized.

They were in a small private room, so their conversation couldn’t be overheard. Zhuo leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. “You know I still want to kill you, don’t you?”

“I’m well aware,” Yuan Anqing nodded. “If I could, I wish I had never met you either.” Some fates he couldn’t change, so there was no use in getting anxious.

“Me too.” Zhuo extended his hand across the table. “They should have chosen a more lively Savior.”

“Perhaps the next one will be very lively.” Yuan Anqing reached out and shook Zhuo’s hand, moving it up and down in a formal, business-like handshake. “You two will have a very boisterous time.”

“At least it’ll be better than being with a corpse,” Zhuo scoffed, though he didn’t pull his hand away. “But I’ll still bite his head off.”

Perhaps because they had spoken frankly, Zhuo’s mood noticeably elevated. His tail wagged more frequently, and when the dishes arrived, he even proactively pushed a napkin toward Yuan Anqing.

Zhuo ate even more once his mood improved. Only then did Yuan Anqing realize that three bowls of rice per meal was considered “dieting” for Zhuo.

“If you’re curious about those sub-species with reproductive separation, you can watch documentaries,” Zhuo offered through a mouthful of food. “There are many strange sub-species in this world. Unlike your world, where there are only humans, right?”

Yuan Anqing nodded.

“That kind of world is too boring!”

“I think it’s fine,” Yuan Anqing replied. He believed a world didn’t necessarily need to be colorful; ‘colorful’ usually just meant ‘more work’.

Zhuo made no comment, simply asking, “Do you want to watch a documentary, then?”

Hmm? Yuan Anqing finally realized. Is Zhuo inviting me?

“Alright, I suppose.” Yuan Anqing could feel Zhuo’s tail practically sweeping against his ankles under the table.

Yuan Anqing was almost certain Zhuo had never experienced a normal process of social interaction. He was a monster capable of stirring deep desires, speaking eloquently about the essence of love, and maintaining a playful, cynical attitude toward all emotions. Yet, he himself seemed to have never personally experienced any of it.

Yuan Anqing didn’t know Zhuo’s origins, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Zhuo had inexplicably let his guard down. The monster had found a strange comfort in Yuan Anqing’s apathy, even developing a slight fondness for him.

A slight fondness?

Yuan Anqing wasn’t sure if that judgment was accurate, especially since Zhuo still explicitly planned to eat him.

This self-doubt persisted until dinnertime. Zhuo kept asking when they would watch the documentary, treating it like a mandatory task they had to complete. Yuan Anqing bought some snacks for the apartment, took a scheduled nap, and then headed to the kitchen to cook dinner, stating the documentary would happen afterward.

Zhuo agreed, but he didn’t quiet down. He paced outside the kitchen glass door while Yuan Anqing chopped meat.

“Once the meat is cut, can we eat?” Zhuo asked.

“No. This is just prep. I still need to wash and pick the vegetables.” Yuan Anqing’s head ached from the hovering. He looked at Zhuo, who stood stiffly like a giant wall outside the door, and casually offered, “Why don’t you help me pick the vegetables?”

He expected Zhuo to refuse, but after furrowing his brow, Zhuo asked, “How do I pick them?”

Before Yuan Anqing could fully process it, Zhuo had already walked into the kitchen.

“How do I pick them?” Zhuo repeated.

“Wait a moment, I’ll show you.” Yuan Anqing guessed Zhuo was simply too bored waiting outside. Zhuo wished he could speed up time to get to the movie, so he decided to shorten Yuan Anqing’s chores to achieve his goal.

This level of impatience was hardly adult-like, yet Zhuo was a creature capable of perceiving complex human desires. It was quite contradictory.

At this moment, Yuan Anqing finally confirmed that Zhuo had developed a fondness for him. It was the fondness of a child who, after throwing a tantrum and getting into a fight, realizes the other person isn’t as detestable as they’d imagined. While they wouldn’t become best friends, they might still play together.

Yuan Anqing was unwilling to disrupt this peculiar balance. His life couldn’t endure any more twists and turns.

As for Zhuo, he seemed to quite enjoy the task. After Yuan Anqing demonstrated the method once, Zhuo suddenly stripped off his shirt. Dozens of dark, scaled arms erupted from his back. These extra hands took exactly ten seconds to pick a massive basket of green vegetables completely clean.

Yuan Anqing: “…”

He is far more suited for housework than I am, Yuan thought. It would be a shame not to utilize so many hands for chores.

Now resembling a towering, multi-armed crimson demon, Zhuo casually tossed the vegetable basket into the sink. He tilted his head at Yuan Anqing with a hint of arrogant swagger. “What next?”

“Then, could you help me wash a few green peppers? My chopping speed won’t keep up with your prep speed, so I hope you won’t get impatient.” Yuan Anqing pushed up his glasses, the lenses briefly flashing white under the overhead light.

“Why not let me chop instead?” Zhuo was dissatisfied with Yuan Anqing’s human speed, curling his lips in a sneer. “Savior~ You can’t even beat me at such a small task.”

Is he trying to help, but too proud to admit it? Yuan Anqing’s heart remained utterly unperturbed by the taunt. He looked up at the terrifying monster and said sincerely, “Thank you.”

“You know, your serious demeanor is a real buzzkill,” Zhuo said, taking a step back.

“I apologize for being a buzzkill, but I truly do thank you.”

Zhuo freed two hands to press firmly down on the top of Yuan Anqing’s head and under his chin, clamping Yuan Anqing’s jaw shut so he couldn’t speak.

Good. Now this infuriating Savior wouldn’t be able to say thank you again.