Chapter 18

Translator: Abo Dammen

Qin Guchuan glanced at the phone respectfully returned to him. Seeing the flood of messages on the screen, he said nothing and just noted Chen Lu’s pressured expression and quietly took the phone back. 

In truth, none of those messages were particularly important. Whether he handled them immediately or not didn’t matter; if something was truly urgent, people would call, not send texts. His all-capable assistant would also take care of the arrangements. To Qin Guchuan, most of those messages were nothing more than notifications. He only needed to skim them before bed to keep a sense of the whole picture.

But he didn’t bother explaining all this to Chen Lu. Instead, he pulled a file from the thick stack on his desk and handed it over.

“If you’re bored, you can look through this first,” said Qin Guchuan.

Give the kid something to occupy his time, otherwise too much pent-up energy wasn’t good for the “parent.” Qin Guchuan was slowly coming to understand such truths. 

Chen Lu accepted the file, fully expecting it to be like the stack of books in his room, which were tedious, sleep-inducing materials. After all, judging from the messages on Qin Guchuan’s phone, none of it looked like anything he could understand.

But the moment he carelessly opened the sealed folder, he froze.

Inside was Chen Lu’s own profile.

“I had someone investigate you before,” Qin Guchuan said. “You can get familiar with it now, it’ll be useful sooner or later.” 

Since he couldn’t exactly speak aloud about the future plot, this was Qin Guchuan’s way of providing Chen Lu with some advance information.

And just like that, Chen Lu wasn’t sleepy anymore.

Letting Qin Guchuan return to his work, Chen Lu began seriously studying the thick dossier.

It didn’t just contain information about “Chen Lu.” There were details on all the people connected to him as well—family, classmates, teachers. Everyone was covered, complete with photos, so Chen Lu would never have to worry about not recognizing someone he was supposed to know. 

Flipping casually, he stopped dead at the page about his parents.

Because they looked exactly like his parents—same faces, same ages, no difference at all.

Suddenly, Chen Lu could no longer treat the mention of his “current mother’s” circumstances as just a detached line of text.

His finger landed on the clearly printed diagnosis. 

——Clement–Gerald Syndrome.

The file explained that it was an extremely rare disease. As of now, “Chen Lu’s” mother was the only known patient worldwide. There was no effective treatment, and it had been deemed terminal.

Chen Lu read the text again and again, combing over every word as if searching for something, anything, that might have been missed. But there was nothing more. Finally, he lifted his head toward Qin Guchuan.

“My… ‘Chen Lu’s’ mom, what’s her condition really like? How many years does she have left?” 

Already immersed in his work, Qin Guchuan didn’t even look up. He answered distractedly while flipping through his paperwork, “It’s just a rare illness. As long as the doctor isn’t around, she looks ten times healthier than you. Just the other day she even organized a mahjong tournament in the hospital and got complaints from other patients’ families. But the moment a doctor shows up, she becomes weak, bedridden, sometimes lapses into deep comas that no amount of shouting can wake her from.”

Chen Lu blinked, question marks practically popping above his head.

“As long as the doctor’s around?” he repeated.

“At the moment, yes, especially when she’s in front of Zhu Yi. I suspect if you were there, you’d have the same effect as the doctor,” said Qin Guchuan, voice cool and detached. 

In short, whenever the environment tied into the plot, his so-called mother would ‘fall ill.’ Outside of that, she was perfectly healthy.

Chen Lu:“……”

“Has anyone else ever had this disease?” he asked, recalling how in video games you’d often get a ‘second run’ or a spin-off season after the first.

“No.” Qin Guchuan shot down his guess without hesitation. “Auntie Song is the first and only patient.” 

“…Then what’s with ‘Clement-Gerald’? Her attending physicians?” Chen Lu frowned.

That question actually made Qin Guchuan pause mid-task. It was sharp, something he himself had never considered.

Right. Why would this ‘illness’ be saddled with such an absurd, overblown name?

When Qin Guchuan failed to come up with an answer, Chen Lu instantly understood. “Got it. Same as those awards Zhu Yi listed the other day—made-up gibberish that sounds lofty but means nothing. 

“Honestly, not bad,” Chen Lu commented. “At least this book hasn’t made me wake up on a 500-square-meter bed.”

Qin Guchuan, remembering that yes, he did in fact own a property with a 500-square-meter bed, and that it would later come up in the story, could only fall silent. “……”

There was no good way to respond to that one.

Chen Lu didn’t notice his hesitation. Knowing now that this ‘mother’ wasn’t actually sick, that it was just the world’s twisted plot machinery at work, he let himself relax. When the story reached its conclusion, or the arc was over, his otherworld mother would likely make a miraculous recovery. 

He turned the page to his father’s file, a figure who, so far, had received zero description in the plot.

This father was physically healthy, ate well, and had no illnesses. But he’d racked up a mountain of gambling debt and then vanished in a puff of cigarette smoke, leaving the family to pick up the mess. Chen Lu’s mother had collapsed from the shock, and in the wake of that collapse, the rare disease was ‘discovered.’

Father fled. Mother fell sick. Younger brother still in school. Debt collectors knocking at the door. As the only able-bodied adult, the once well-off college student ‘Chen Lu’ was suddenly burdened with the full weight of survival, thus stumbling onto that fated path of tragic entanglement with Qin Guchuan.

A requisite tragic backstory, the kind every protagonist seemed doomed to carry. 

In reality, Chen Lu didn’t believe his own father would ever abandon his family like that. But in this world, the plot twisted everything, conjuring up ridiculous illnesses out of nowhere, so why not this too?

He didn’t dwell on it, just quietly reasoned, ‘According to the setup, his deadbeat dad was bound to reappear later, demanding money or stirring up trouble.’

And the thought of someone wearing his father’s respectable, mild-mannered school teacher’s face while playing the part of a scoundrel, shamelessly pestering him for cash… Well, dutiful son that he was, Chen Lu actually found himself looking forward to it.

When he finally finished combing through his family’s files, he turned to his own. 

Most of the information was near identical—age, height, blood type. But from hobbies onward, the divergence began. Chen Lu himself was a science major, while this ‘Chen Lu’ had gone to an arts academy. The common thread, though, was that both had decent grades.

Looking at the long list of awards won by his other self, Chen Lu let out a low whistle of admiration, then glanced down at his own hands.

Could it be… he had some hidden artistic talent after all?

Before he could even entertain the thought, Qin Guchuan’s merciless voice cut in, “Time’s up. Let’s continue.” 

Chen Lu: “……”

After half a day of “training”, even if his breaks had far outlasted the actual exercise, and even if Qin Guchuan had given his muscles a massage, Chen Lu’s whole body was still howling in protest. By the next day, when it was finally time to start acting out the plot, he was practically overjoyed.

Freedom. Sweet, exercise-free freedom!

Leaning lazily against the balcony railing, he couldn’t stop grinning. Especially since in his mind, he could already see the scene to come: Qin Guchuan stepping out beneath the balcony, lifting his head, and forcing his perpetually serious CEO-face into a look of heart-struck awe. 

Honestly, it was impossible to keep a straight face.

Back when he didn’t know Qin Guchuan was on his side, Chen Lu had managed to stay serious, focused entirely on whether his own expressions were in character. He hadn’t thought about anything else, and that had kept him afloat.

But now…

Pfft! 

Qin Guchuan had just reached the door downstairs, about to walk past beneath the balcony, when a clear laugh rang out from directly overhead. He hadn’t even touched the doorknob yet.

Qin Guchuan: “……”

Expression flat, he pulled out his phone and dialed. “Laugh one more time,” he told the person on the other end, “and I’ll confiscate your phone. The study will be locked too.”

Chen Lu: “……” 

“You’re acting like some feudal patriarch!” Chen Lu shrieked, clutching his freshly-delivered new phone like it was his lifeline.

“And you’re acting like a brainless grade-schooler.” Qin Guchuan’s voice was ice.

Chen Lu choked, then immediately accused him: “Stop parroting me! Qin Tyrant-CEO!” But he did know why Qin Guchuan was calling, so he quickly offered up his pre-prepared emergency plan. “Don’t worry, I asked Master Zhang, the chef, to make me some authentic sugar-free whole wheat bread. One bite and I’ll ascend straight to heaven, instant effect!”

Hearing that, Qin Guchuan, already somewhat familiar with Chen Lu’s quirks, allowed himself to relax a little. 

Even if it was just the two of them performing a scripted scene, nobody could guarantee the whole plot wouldn’t collapse if their emotions veered too far out of sync.

“I’m heading out,” Qin Guchuan said flatly.

“Oh~” Chen Lu’s cheerful reply floated back, brimming with vitality. “Then it’s time for Mr. Qin to work hard at loving me~”

That final lilt in his tone was like a tiny hook, scratching mischievously at Qin Guchuan’s heart. 

Stone-faced Qin Guchuan: “……”

He hung up, pocketed his phone, and stepped outside. A few paces later he was beneath the balcony. Just as the script described, he lifted his gaze and saw Chen Lu standing there, face full of melancholy as he stared into the distance.

——The wind tugged at Chen Lu’s clothes, fluttering, fluttering, like a pair of broken wings unfurling from his back. He was a beautiful bird, trapped inside the Qin estate.

——That piercing sense of fracture lodged deep into Qin Guchuan’s chest. 

——He didn’t realize he was being drawn, in that instant, to another equally broken soul. He only stared dumbly at the figure, as if gazing into a dream.

——“Weiyu…” Qin Guchuan whispered the name of his white moonlight.

All of this, according to the novel, was supposed to be Qin Guchuan’s inner monologue upon seeing “Chen Lu.”

But now, looking at the real Chen Lu, slouching with zero elegance, his only “on-point” feature being that melancholic expression, Qin Guchuan couldn’t help his thoughts. 

….Forget a fragile bird. He was more like an elephant ready to bolt at any second.

Author’s Feed: 

Chen Lu: Why an elephant?

Qin Guchuan: Because it carries an unparalleled destructive power.