Lu Xianqing sped across most of Jiang City, his final stop a quiet residential block. He smashed through the barrier arm, leaving it crumpled in his wake.
“Hey! Who—stop your car!”
He parked at Qin Sizheng’s building, flung open the door without even glancing at the scraped paint, and kicked the front door open. Inside, a man was startled, still holding a game controller.
“Who… who are you?” The man let go of the mouse and keyboard, stepping back at Lu Xianqing’s cold, imposing presence. “Don’t—don’t do anything rash! I’ll call the police!”
“Where’s Qin Sizheng?!”
The man blinked in confusion. “Qin Sizheng? I don’t know anyone by that name. Did you get the wrong place?”
Lu Xianqing brushed past him, searching the bedroom. He remembered the life-sized figure Qin Sizheng had hidden in the wardrobe, the punching bag, and all his personal belongings. There had to be something.
He rifled through the room while the man, seeing his frenzied state, dared not stop him.
Wallets and diamond watches lay untouched on the table. The man didn’t look at them but focused on the wardrobe, clearly searching for something.
“Hey, what exactly are you looking for? If you don’t leave, I’ll call the police!”
He Xiang came running in, out of breath. “Wait!”
The man glanced at her; her high heels were in her hand, sweat dripping from her face in the cold winter. She quickly threw the heels on the floor and slipped them on before hurrying over.
“He’s been through something recently that’s affected his mental state. We live next door; this is the wrong place, really!” He Xiang glanced at the jewelry and said immediately, “See? Everything’s still here. He hasn’t taken anything—this isn’t a robbery.”
In her rush, she hadn’t taken anything. She decisively removed a diamond earring and handed it to the man. “Compensation for your loss, and please agree to one condition.”
The man looked at the diamond, a piece worth at least ten thousand. So generous?
“Speak.”
“Forget what happened today. This person never came here, you never saw him—can you do that?”
The man’s expression shifted. “Oh—I get it. You’re Lu Xianqing! The actor, right? The one who plays Fourth Brother? Is that him?”
He Xiang bowed. “Please keep this a secret. Thank you.”
The man waved his hand. “Relax, I don’t follow celebrities and don’t want trouble. Don’t worry. But what happened to Fourth Brother? He looked scary—did something trigger him?”
“I’m not at liberty to say. Sorry for today, and I hope you’ll honor your promise,” He Xiang said, then entered the room, grabbed Lu Xianqing’s hand, and spoke softly, “Fourth Brother, Sizheng isn’t here. This is someone else’s home. We came to the wrong place. Let’s leave, okay?”
Lu Xianqing hadn’t found the figure or any of his personal items.
He pushed He Xiang’s hand away, distraught, and headed outside. She apologized repeatedly to the man and followed him.
Lu Xianqing tilted his head back, staring blankly at the sky. He had asked You Si; the man said he didn’t know Qin Sizheng.
An Ying, Shi Jianshu, Xi Ling, even Jiang Xi—they all claimed never to have known Qin Sizheng, as if he had never existed in this world. Everything had been a hallucination.
Those memories were all his own imagination.
He reached into his pocket and felt the piece of paper with four notes he had written, signed with Qin Sizheng’s name:
—I will never stop loving Lu Xianqing.
A surge of anger rose in Lu Xianqing’s heart. He had promised he would never stop loving him! Why was it gone after only one night?
“Fourth Brother! Where are you going now?!” He Xiang called as she saw him get into the car again, chasing after him. He stopped in front of a tattoo shop.
A tattoo?
No!
If fans found out, it would be chaos.
He Xiang followed inside, noticing a group staring at Lu Xianqing, ready to approach.
Lu Xianqing spoke in a low, cold tone to the tattoo artist: “Three characters—‘Qin Sizheng’—on the chest, over the heart.”
The customers whispered, glancing repeatedly at him. The young shop owner, baby-faced, cautioned: “It’ll hurt a lot. Maybe consider another place, like your arm?”
Lu Xianqing said firmly: “Over the heart.”
Seeing his resolve, the owner stopped persuading him. “Alright, follow me.”
“He Xiang! Are you He Xiang? Was that Fourth Brother just now? Is he getting a tattoo? ‘Qin Sizheng’—is that the person he loves? Someone outside the industry?”
“Is Fourth Brother in love? When will it be public?”
He Xiang forced a smile. “He’s just preparing for his next role. If there’s someone he likes, the studio will announce it first. The next project is still in pre-production, so please keep it confidential, okay?”
The girls nodded eagerly. “We won’t tell anyone!”
Lu Xianqing leaned back as the artist prepared the tools, feeling as if everyone had already forgotten Qin Sizheng. He feared that one day he too might forget him, so he decided to etch him into his body… into his heart.
He couldn’t let himself forget Qin Sizheng—if he did, then Qin Sizheng would truly be erased from this world.
If one day he returned and found that no one remembered him, he would be heartbroken.
The world felt like an immense prison, infinite and suffocating. No matter how Qin Sizheng struggled, he couldn’t find an exit.
He had developed self-awareness as a set of data, and even formed feelings for Lu Xianqing, going against the entire book’s design. On his own, escaping was impossible.
The author seemed to see through his thoughts and patiently explained: “You have help.”
Following the direction of the author’s finger, Qin Sizheng saw a flickering shadow and exclaimed in shock, “Shi Jianshu? He was sent on a mission too?”
“No. He let you go, so he must face punishment—banishment.”
Qin Sizheng understood. That was why Shi Jianshu had treated him so kindly the first time they met. No wonder he felt a strange closeness to this “little wildcat”!
“Don’t cause him trouble!”
The author chuckled lightly. “Worry about yourself instead. In a few days, when I straighten out the plot, you’ll be archived. Right now, everyone has forgotten you. Once archived, even Lu Xianqing won’t remember you.”
Qin Sizheng glared. “If the goal is to heal Fourth Brother, why can’t I be with him? Why must it be Jiang Zhen?”
The author hummed. “Main character aura? It’s not that it must be Jiang Zhen. Anyone could be the main character—but you, an NPC, gained independent consciousness, uncontrolled, which would throw the world into chaos.”
“So you gave me a guiding consciousness to stay away from Lu Xianqing?”
“Yes. And not only that, I assigned another NPC to help you.”
“Who? Shi Jianshu?”
The author shook his finger gently. “No. Shi Jing.”
Qin Sizheng didn’t even know this person, let alone that they had helped him.
The author sighed. “But you’re truly charismatic. I set this character as your ‘anti-fan,’ someone who would control you and prevent you from forming feelings for Lu Xianqing. Yet… he became captivated by you too.”
“I’ll send another to save Lu Xianqing—a set of data that won’t develop feelings for him.”
“Hey, don’t go, come back!”
After speaking, the author vanished. No matter how loudly Qin Sizheng called, no one responded. Only his own voice echoed back like it hit a wall, repeating over and over.
No. He couldn’t sit idle. There had to be a way out.
If he could gain self-awareness, then he could resist the book’s control! Even if it meant death, he had to try.
Qin Sizheng struggled fiercely, feeling a transparent thread wrap around his wrist. He bit down instinctively. A searing pain shot through him.
He instinctively loosened his grip, then bit down harder.
Meanwhile, Lu Xianqing searched every place connected to Qin Sizheng, each attempt ending in disappointment that nearly broke him. He had to repeatedly convince himself that Qin Sizheng had truly existed, to avoid the slightest doubt.
He Xiang had followed him across Jiang City, and in the end, Lu Xianqing grasped her hand as if in despair. “He Xiang, give him back to me. Please, just give him back.”
He had never said those words before. Seeing the helpless pleading in his reddened eyes, He Xiang felt her heart shatter.
“I’ll do whatever you say. Give him back to me—please, just give him back.”
He Xiang couldn’t speak. If she could, she would return “Qin Sizheng” to him, but she didn’t even know who this person truly was—whether he was real or a figment of his imagination.
Lu Xianqing’s condition had always been unstable. After filming, he needed long recovery periods. This time, it was worse than ever. He had never thought of suicide, yet he seemed utterly hopeless.
Hearing him utter “please” tore through He Xiang’s heart, plunging sharp ice-like pain into her chest, leaving her breathless.
“Fourth Brother…”
Finally, Lu Xianqing calmed himself. He released her hand, handed her the car keys, and slumped into the back seat with his eyes closed.
He Xiang took him home. Shen Qing hadn’t left yet.
“How is Fourth Brother?”
He Xiang shook her head, glancing back. “Can you help him?”
Shen Qing, experienced as a psychologist, immediately sensed the utter despair. “I think it’s very difficult. In his current state, he won’t accept any therapy.”
Lu Xianqing, distraught, walked past several people into the basement. Yan Yan hadn’t forgiven him yet, surely thinking his remorse insufficient and still angry with him.
Maybe if he punished himself further, she would calm down and return.
………………………
Qin Sizheng, spiritually linked to him, sensed Lu Xianqing’s pain. Slowly, the images began to form.
Lu Xianqing locked himself in a cage yet smiled faintly. “Yan Yan, on your birthday, you asked me to make a wish. I wished… for a chance to pursue Qin Sizheng again. This time, I wouldn’t let him be afraid, wouldn’t let him get hurt, would pamper him in every way.”
He knelt, hands clasped, murmuring prayers: “Please, give me my Yan Yan back. Even if it’s just for one day, let me see him—just once.”
The scene replayed painfully. Qin Sizheng couldn’t hold back tears, choking as he called out: “Fourth Brother! Wake up! Wake up!”
Lu Xianqing couldn’t hear him. Qin Sizheng desperately tried to tear through the barrier, his voice hoarse, but the man remained kneeling, praying—just as in the dream he had experienced.
Qin Sizheng’s heart ached unbearably. He hadn’t noticed that the bindings on his wrist had loosened slightly. Struggling, he fell to the ground.
Without hesitation, he ran forward blindly, like a headless fly, searching for an exit. But every path led to a wall.
Lu Xianqing was so close. He wanted to embrace him but was separated by an invisible wall. Qin Sizheng half-kneeling at the barrier, tried again and again.
He couldn’t let Lu Xianqing suffer the same fate as in the previous life—wasting away in bitterness and dying with regret.
He Xiang finally found the basement. She barely registered the shock of seeing such a massive iron cage; exhaustion overtook her and she collapsed outside it, sobbing uncontrollably. “Fourth Brother, you can hit me, scold me, even kill me if you want—but who exactly is Qin Sizheng?!”
“I’ve asked everywhere—no one in this circle has ever heard that name.”
“Shen Qing said you wouldn’t accept psychological intervention, so he left first. I’ve followed you for almost ten years, half my life invested here—what could possibly be so important that you can’t tell me?”
Lu Xianqing still ignored her. After crying herself out, He Xiang got up to handle matters.
He had gone to so many places today; there was no telling if one or two troublemakers might appear. The studio needed to be prepared. This was also his first real participation in a variety show, but in his current state, attending was impossible.
“Director Ming, Fourth Brother hasn’t been in good condition lately. Could we cancel the show? We could say it’s for health reasons.”
Ming Fei laughed lazily. “Again?”
He Xiang had no mood for jokes and didn’t bother to explain whether “not possible” was really the issue. “Either cancel, or postpone the broadcast—your choice.”
Ming Fei clicked his tongue. “Lu Xianqing has really spoiled you all. Fine, we’ll postpone. When his condition improves, we’ll continue. But tell him canceling is impossible—unless he brings me a slave contract, no way.”
“What are you muttering about?”
Ming Fei grabbed Shi Jianshu, pulling him into his arms and pressing the phone to his ear. Before hearing clearly, he snatched it away.
“Hello!”
Dodging, Ming Fei held one hand to the side of his head, speaking to He Xiang, “Next time I’ll bring him some ginseng and deer antler, get him ready for clients.”
He Xiang hung up. Ming Fei tossed the phone aside and pinched Shi Jianshu’s waist. “What are you doing? Trying to steal company secrets?”
Shi Jianshu rolled his eyes. “Who cares!”
“Oh, so now you care? Must care about me—say it, say it properly.”
“Don’t, you say it yourself.”
Ming Fei tugged at his hair, leaning into his neck. “Mm, I care about you.”
Shi Jianshu flinched like struck by lightning, hair pulled painfully, covering his head and gasping. “What the hell! Stop grabbing my hair!”
Ming Fei: “……”
Qin Sizheng didn’t know how long he had been trying. The space felt like it was covered by an invisible dome—no matter how hard he struggled, nothing worked.
Lu Xianqing had visibly grown thinner, barely eating. At He Xiang’s pleading, he forced down a little water, but it was not enough.
His lips were chapped, his gaze dull, and his clasped hands visibly trembling.
He was close to collapse.
Qin Sizheng wished he had never existed—then Lu Xianqing wouldn’t have to suffer so much. Perhaps if he hadn’t stubbornly insisted on being with him, he and Jiang Zhen could already be happily together.
He wished he had been less selfish in loving Lu Xianqing.
Crouched on the ground, Qin Sizheng saw Ye Xu arrive. He raised a hand to slap He Xiang across the face, but froze mid-motion. “Why didn’t you say anything earlier? He’s so willful, and you didn’t even call the doctor? What was the family doctor I arranged for him for? You wouldn’t call him?”
He Xiang hung her head in apology. An Ning tried to explain that Lu Xianqing wouldn’t allow it, but she grabbed her arm to stop her.
“Sorry, Director Ye.”
“Sorry? If it weren’t for his grandfather’s birthday banquet, were you planning to wait until after his funeral to tell me?”
Ye Xu stepped into the basement, turning on the lights. Seeing Lu Xianqing imprisoned and near death, she nearly fell to her knees.
“If anything happens to him, I won’t forgive you!”
She approached the cage and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “Don’t be afraid, Mama’s here.”
Lu Xianqing’s consciousness was already muddled. He trembled slightly in her embrace. Tears streamed down Ye Xu’s face. “Come out with Mama, okay? Don’t stay here.”
But those words seemed to sting him. He shoved her away. “I won’t go! You go out, out!”
In his state, he was cutting into Ye Xu’s heart, and also punishing Qin Sizheng’s. Yet it wasn’t enough—he grabbed Ye Xu’s hand, unable to kneel, collapsing in exhaustion as he pleaded.
“Give me Yan Yan back, give him back to me.”
Ye Xu supported his shoulders. “Okay, I’ll bring him to you. First, come with me and eat something. I promise I’ll bring him to you, alright?”
Lu Xianqing, desperate for days, initially didn’t believe it. “Impossible—he doesn’t exist. No, he does! You don’t even know Yan Yan! You’re lying to me!”
Ye Xu’s heart tore, but she comforted him through the pain. “I know him. Qin Sizheng, right? He’s your Yan Yan. Mama really knows him. You love him, and he loves you.”
Half believing, half doubtful, Lu Xianqing looked up with fragile, hopeless eyes, slowly allowing a glimmer of hope.
“Really?”
“Really.” Ye Xu guided him out, giving He Xiang a look. She immediately understood and called the family doctor.
Lu Xianqing hadn’t eaten in days. The doctor gave him an IV to get some nutrition. He impatiently urged Ye Xu, ignoring the porridge entirely.
Ye Xu coaxed him to eat first, then went personally to bring his Yan Yan.
Lu Xianqing reflexively vomited after a bite, but painfully forced down the porridge. Ye Xu said, “Rest a bit. I’ll bring him to you. When you wake, you’ll see him.”
Closing his eyes, Lu Xianqing didn’t react immediately. Ye Xu had never seen him so intense yet sluggish before. Once clever and sharp, her pride—how had he ended up like this?
Where could she even find someone named Qin Sizheng?
She went downstairs, calling the whole company to stop their work and search, leaving no stone unturned to find him.
Lu Xianqing waited an entire day and night. He even drew a portrait of Qin Sizheng for Ye Xu, recounting his own story with him.
The next evening, he saw someone standing at the doorway. The familiar face struck him like lightning—he feared that even a single movement might make the sight vanish.
“Yan Yan.”
“Fourth Brother.”
Lu Xianqing pulled him into a tight embrace, desperately drinking in the scent that belonged to him. Tears fell onto the nape of his neck, and the other reached out, patting his shoulder in comfort.
“Yan Yan, I’m sorry. I won’t treat you that way again. Please don’t leave me.”
“I don’t blame you.”
Lu Xianqing exhaled in relief, leaning against his shoulder. After a moment, he suddenly pushed him away, reaching out to brush the back of his ear, fingertips stained with a trace of red.
He wiped the corner of his mouth as well, and the dimple disappeared.
“Get lost!”
Si Qianqiu had been confident in his acting ability. Based on the details Ye Xu had shared, he believed he could pull off the role—yet he had been recognized immediately.
“Fourth Brother, I’m Yan Yan. Don’t you recognize me?”
“You’re not Yan Yan!”
Lu Xianqing left without hesitation. At the door, he confronted Ye Xu.
“You lied to me.”
Ye Xu didn’t deny it. He turned his head, choking back tears: “He looks about seventy percent like your Yan Yan. With makeup, ninety percent. I lied to you because I couldn’t let you die for someone who doesn’t exist. Have mercy on Mom. I only have you. I can’t let you get hurt.”
Lu Xianqing was silent for a long time.
Ye Xu watched him leave and hurried after him, only to find him locked outside the basement.
Qin Sizheng saw Lu Xianqing roll up his sleeves and pick up the fruit knife from the table. Following the pattern of his veins, he cut down sharply, letting out a piercing scream.
His consciousness fluctuated violently; he teetered on the edge of fainting. Every ounce of clarity crumbled, like a string of corrupted code. The system collapsed, unable to withstand the overload.
Lu Xianqing was the cornerstone of this story. His act of suicide threatened the very foundation of the world; the plotlines twisted violently, teetering on the brink of collapse.
The author felt themselves being strangled, the suffocating frustration rising—at this rate, everyone would be doomed.
The cold blade sliced through the vein, warm blood gushing out and pooling quickly on the floor.
Even someone with Ye Xu’s abilities couldn’t locate Qin Sizheng. Lu Xianqing finally accepted it: this world no longer had him. Whether imagined or not, he could never see him again.
Ye Xu pounded on the door outside: “Xianqing! Don’t scare Mom. Open the door!”
“Mommy, please, open the door. Don’t do something foolish!”
Lu Xianqing’s eyes were void, his gaze mechanical toward the doorway. Yet his hand didn’t stop—the blood streamed, pooling into a dark puddle.
Yan Yan… if this world doesn’t have you, then I’ll go to your world to find you.
Wait, Fourth Brother!
A faint smile curved Lu Xianqing’s lips. “Yan Yan, don’t be afraid. Fourth Brother will stay with you.”
His will to live had bottomed out, the cornerstone crumbling piece by piece. Just as the world was about to collapse, the author finally appeared, pale and trembling: “Wait!”
Lu Xianqing frowned, eyes cold, silently asking, “Who are you?”
“I’m your Mom! No, Dad!”
Lu Xianqing’s gaze froze. The author shivered, quickly explaining the situation, carefully gauging his reaction. Any further misstep could collapse the world entirely.
What kind of uncontrollable protagonist is this!
Lu Xianqing watched silently for over ten minutes, not a word. His calmness was eerie. After a long while, he looked down at the knife again.
“Um… aren’t you surprised?”
The author fumed inwardly. Normally, someone learning they weren’t real would be shocked, deny it, or at least ask questions. Why was he so composed?
Compared to Qin Sizheng’s breakdown, rage, disbelief, and desperate attempts to escape, Lu Xianqing listened calmly, as if hearing someone else’s story.
Was he stunned?
Perhaps this was better. Maybe he would give up entirely if he couldn’t accept that Qin Sizheng was just data.
Lu Xianqing stared at the knife. The author realized it wasn’t shock he lacked—it was the will to live. Without Qin Sizheng, no matter how good this world was, he had no attachment.
The author swallowed hard. “Qin Sizheng is just a string of code, not your lover. Even if it weren’t him, he’d still complete his mission. To you, he’s just a cannon fodder on life’s journey. You have your own protagonist!”
Lu Xianqing looked at him and asked, “You mean if I die, this world collapses, right?”
The author nodded cautiously, a sense of unease creeping in.
“What do you want to do?”
Lu Xianqing lowered his head, the tip of the fruit knife pressing against his skin once more. Calmly, he said, “If I can die once, I can die a hundred times. Aren’t you afraid this broken world will be overturned again and again?”
“Hey! Stop! I—I can control you! I’m your Mom! No, Dad!” The author had rewritten this book countless times. If this happened again, he would lose his mind.
“Listen to Dad. Forget this data? I’ll arrange a peerless handsome man as your husband!”
Lu Xianqing’s voice was steady. He lifted his eyelids slightly, eyeing this strange entity. “If you could control me, you wouldn’t have appeared. Though this data… this novel… is hard to believe, if there’s even a chance to bring Yan Yan back, I will try.”
He pressed the knife into his skin and said lightly, “So… return my Yan Yan.”
“Then die. If you die, I’ll rewrite it!” The author gave up completely—might as well abandon the story. If readers scolded him for a few days, he could just ignore it.
Lu Xianqing nodded, decisively slicing with the knife. The world trembled violently, as if shaken to its core.
The author’s head throbbed, mind reeling—was even he being affected by the book?
As Lu Xianqing’s knife cut deeper, the author’s headache and suffocating pressure intensified. Finally, unable to endure it any longer, he gritted his teeth and surrendered. “Fine, fine! I can return him to you. But remember this—your bond is mutual. If either of you experiences a crisis of trust, or cheats, or anything like that, he will disappear again.”
Lu Xianqing roughly understood, but fear gnawed at him. What if he wasn’t careful? He might lose him again. “Explain more clearly,” he urged.
The author, exasperated, snapped: “You two are literally tied together! Your fortune sustains him—got it? If you stop caring for him, or he refuses your care, poof! He’s gone. What the hell have I done, writing you into existence!”
“I won’t.”
The author rolled his eyes inwardly. Lu Xianqing’s autonomy could actually influence the whole world. His wish, so strong and genuine, affected even the author’s level.
Qin Sizheng’s bonds had loosened because of his prayers, and the mutual trust forged an extraordinarily strong spiritual connection. In all these years, the author had never seen a character capable of threatening him like this.
He should never have dared write this book.
“When will he come back?”
The author snorted coldly. “Give me time to adjust the settings. Three days.”
“One day.”
“Two days.”
Lu Xianqing placed the knife against his wrist. “Negotiate any further, and it’ll be half a day.”
“…Fine. One day it is!”