DCHHLT Chapter 4

It was early spring. The night air quickly chilled the temperatures that had barely begun to recover. Inside the steamy bathroom, the heat lamps were turned up to the highest setting as vapor rose into the air, yet the stream of water pouring from the showerhead was ice-cold.

This was a temperature no human could endure. But for a monster like Liang Xingyuan, he only felt it wasn’t cold enough.

A series of strange, uncontrollable sparks surged from every nerve ending in his body. As if spurred on by something, they slowly yet irresistibly engulfed his entire frame.

In his third year in this world, Liang Xingyuan had assumed he possessed strong control over his tentacles.

Most of the time, he behaved exactly like an ordinary human, so seamlessly that no one could fault him. At times, he was even better-behaved than morally bankrupt humans. The tentacles would also stay obediently under his control, no longer acting out like they did when he first arrived in this world.

However, tonight, the night Chu Junshan moved in, Liang Xingyuan was surprised to find that his tentacles were showing subtle signs of slipping out of his grasp.

After making the bed they were to share according to Chu Junshan’s request, Liang Xingyuan had retreated into the bathroom, continually dousing himself with cold water to try to calm the tentacles surging like a tide below him.

“You can’t come out… You’ll scare him.”

The tentacles squirmed like snakes in the freezing mist, clearly showing their resistance.

Liang Xingyuan, however, was resolute. He scolded each disobedient tentacle that tried to break free, threatening them with solemn gravity: “Not you, and not you either. If you don’t listen, I’ll chop you up and send you to the stall outside the kindergarten to be made into takoyaki.”

The tentacles: “…” 

Ruthless.

Liang Xingyuan reached out, his long, slender fingers tapping lightly against a few tentacles that were thrashing most excitedly—part warning, part soothing. “I’m going out now. Be good.”

With a soft creak, Liang Xingyuan pushed open the door, draped in a haze of water vapor. Chu Junshan was already sitting on the bed, pencil in hand, writing and drawing on his tablet.

Perhaps hearing the commotion on this side, Chu Junshan languidly lifted his eyelids, his gaze lingering on Liang Xingyuan’s face for a brief second before shifting away.

Liang Xingyuan’s heart began to thud uncontrollably once more.

“Are you going to sleep now?” Chu Junshan’s voice was always cool and crisp, yet the slight cheerful rise at the end carried an indescribable allure. Raising his eyes, he let his gaze fall upon Liang Xingyuan as his right hand turned the bedside lamp switch, dimming the light slightly. “Good night.”

Liang Xingyuan took a deep breath, trying hard to ground his emotions until his tone returned to its usual steady composure: “Good night.”

It’s fine! Liang Xingyuan!

It’s just sharing a bed!

Trying hard to convince himself, he walked to the side of the bed with light steps and lay down stiffly, like a robot.

Outside light drifted through the narrow gap in the curtains, distant and hazy like a haze of dust.

The moonlight was faint and the breeze gentle. Soon, a soft, rustling rain began to fall outside.

Liang Xingyuan shifted ever so slightly, immediately sensing that the person beside him had silently turned over as well.

Chu Junshan’s unique scent, mingled with the fragrance of the shower gel from his bathroom, intruded upon Liang Xingyuan’s senses without a shred of reason. In less than a second, the tentacles beneath him began to stir restlessly once more.

Liang Xingyuan: “…”

He seemed to… crave Chu Junshan’s closeness far more than he had imagined.

The human scent, the warmth, and even deeper, more intimate contact. He craved every bit of it.

Brows furrowed, Liang Xingyuan silently snatched a tentacle that was about to dart out from beneath the blanket, communicating with it through his divine sense:

Don’t move.

However, the tentacles seemed completely fearless now. Even risking the chance of being skewered into takoyaki, they jostled each other, desperate to wiggle free.

On the surface, Liang Xingyuan maintained a picture of tranquility, feigning deep sleep. But beneath the blanket, a fiercely chaotic battle was raging.

Still in his human form with only two hands to spare, he was utterly overwhelmed by the horde of tentacles wriggling outward like crazy. His two fists were no match for eight tentacles. All he could do was react to every move, feeling for all the world like he was playing Fruit Ninja.

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Just as Liang Xingyuan was about to cave under the onslaught of these disobedient, cursed tentacles, Chu Junshan’s voice suddenly drifted over from beside him: “Can’t sleep?”

Liang Xingyuan froze. In the next moment, as if frozen solid by that cold voice, the tentacles silently surrendered and stood down.

Sensing their retreat, he finally let out a breath of relief. “A little.”

“Would you like some milk?” Chu Junshan’s voice carried a tinge of sleepiness. He’s a bit muddled compared to before, making it all the more intoxicating. “You have work tomorrow. Get some rest.”

Liang Xingyuan went blank for a second before a sudden realization dawned on him—

Was he… caring about him?

The moment that thought surfaced, countless pink bubbles erupted in Liang Xingyuan’s heart.

So sweet.

Mr. Chu really was the absolute best.

Liang Xingyuan thought.

It was as if those bitter misgivings had never once entered his mind.

Against this sweetness, those gloomy, dark fantasies seemed all the more out of place, unfit to see the light of day.

The night felt endless. Light from outside occasionally flitted through the gap in the curtains before quickly fading away.

Before he knew it, the tormented Liang Xingyuan heard the long, steady rhythm of Chu Junshan’s breathing beside him.

Only then did Liang Xingyuan finally dare to turn his head softly, resting his eyes on Chu Junshan’s face, as if he had been longing to do so all along.

In the faint moonlight, Chu Junshan lay with eyes closed. His long, thick eyelashes trembled subtly with the rise and fall of his breathing. Perhaps plagued by a bad dream, his pale pink lips were tightly pressed, his lashes quivering gently as though he might awaken at any second.

Forcing himself to reluctantly pull his gaze away from Chu Junshan’s face, a thought bubbled up from the depths of his heart.

The more he looked at this human, the more he adored him. There wasn’t a single thing about him he didn’t adore.

His beloved was the most ideal companion in the entire world, bar none.

The monster had never experienced a day so tumultuous, so wildly filled with soaring emotion.

After a long struggle to soothe his tentacles, which were growing restless once again, Liang Xingyuan finally slipped into a deep, peaceful slumber.

The moment Liang Xingyuan’s breathing abruptly slowed, Chu Junshan, who had been “asleep” the entire time, quietly opened his eyes.

Maintaining a steady, deep rhythm of breathing, he reached out with utmost gentleness, touching Liang Xingyuan’s cheek.

It was ice-cold and bore an indescribable dampness, like a faint trace of moisture left behind after something had just brushed past his face.

Chu Junshan lowered his gaze, his naturally downward-pointing lashes fluttering twice as he suppressed the dark, surging desire deep in his eyes.

Throughout their time together that day, he had discovered that this tentacle monster was not only far more integrated into human society than he had imagined, but even more subtly, he was more cautious than an average human.

He could feel the energy fluctuations emanating from the tentacles. Had Liang Xingyuan wished to, he could have effortlessly strangled him with them in a fraction of a millisecond.

As a top survivor who had emerged victorious from the Infinite Game, Chu Junshan was accustomed to staying composed when facing cunning monsters.

Yet to his surprise, Liang Xingyuan seemed to have done absolutely nothing.

The only thing even remotely out of line was staring at his sleeping profile for nearly an hour before finally shifting his gaze away.

…What was he planning?

Chu Junshan narrowed his eyes slightly, scrutinizing the deeply slumbering Liang Xingyuan with the gaze of a predator.

Did he not care for him as “food”?

Or had he picked up a cat’s cruel habit of wanting to play with his prey until it was utterly exhausted and defenseless before delivering the fatal blow?

He couldn’t be entirely sure just how insidious the Liang Xingyuan before him truly was.

Yet one thing was certain: no matter what Liang Xingyuan intended to do, he would never succeed.

Putting the thought aside, Chu Junshan adjusted himself into a more comfortable position and finally drifted into a light sleep.

At seven o’clock sharp the next morning, the phone alarm on Liang Xingyuan’s nightstand went off right on cue.

Both opened their eyes simultaneously, instinctively looking toward each other. The moment their eyes met, Liang Xingyuan immediately blurted out, “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

Today was Friday. He still had to go to work.

As a freelancer, Chu Junshan generally did not need to wake up early.

Mistaking Chu Junshan’s stirring for his own doing, Liang Xingyuan felt a pang of guilt. “Do you want to sleep a bit more?”

Looking down, he saw Chu Junshan’s eyes half-lidded, long, thick lashes sweeping over his clear, bright eyes, still heavy with sleep. “…Mm, take care on your way.”

Liang Xingyuan’s heart melted into a puddle on the spot.

As he bustled about outside, he kept his movements quiet and his voice low. Even Yaoyaoling, who kept trailing at his heels, was given strict, repeated orders not to enter the bedroom and disturb the home’s other master.

The pup felt terribly wronged.

Half an hour later, Liang Xingyuan pushed open the bedroom door once more. Chu Junshan was still in the same position, clearly drifting back to sleep.

Refraining from disturbing him, Liang Xingyuan stood in place and gazed lingeringly at him for quite a while. Only when time threatened to run out did he whisper, “Mr. Chu, I’ve made breakfast. The milk is warmed and in the heating drawer. You can drink it whenever you take it out.”

Chu Junshan opened his eyes, a faint note of weariness in his voice: “Thank you.”

His tone was restrained and distant, overlaid with that slight fatigue. Liang Xingyuan guessed he must not have slept well last night.

A wave of heartache washed over him. But given their current relationship, Liang Xingyuan had no standing to fuss over him.

After a brief hesitation, he bade farewell to Chu Junshan and to Yaoyaoling, who was chasing his feet in circles. He then turned and left for work.

Unbeknownst to Liang Xingyuan, Chu Junshan’s gaze remained locked onto him through the narrow gap in the curtains the entire time.

He watched as Liang Xingyuan stepped out into the yard, penned Yaoyaoling inside the small gated enclosure, and even made a special detour to check on his plants and flowers, before finally getting into his car and driving off toward Xinghai Kindergarten.

All of this… was entirely too natural and ordinary.

Chu Junshan withdrew his gaze, a faint, indefinable emotion lingering in his eyes.

Could a monster intent on deceit really carry the act to such meticulous detail?

Chu Junshan got dressed, stepped out of bed, and walked out of the room. The Border Collie that Liang Xingyuan called Yaoyaoling rushed over like a whirlwind, instantly forgetting every single word of warning its ‘dad’ had drilled into it. Surrendering fully to its nature, its hind legs bent slightly, coiling power for a leap upward—

“Yaoyaoling.”

Chu Junshan’s voice was flat, sounding stark and cold in the empty living room, yet imbued with a peculiar quality.

Those words seemed far more effective than all of Liang Xingyuan’s repeated lectures from earlier that morning. In a flash, Yaoyaoling froze in its tracks, silently aborting its forward pounce before Chu Junshan’s expressionless face.

Just as it trembled under the powerful, unconsciously radiating pressure from Chu Junshan, convinced that its canine life was coming to a bitter end, Chu Junshan’s eyes suddenly crinkled. Smiling, he extended a hand to tease the pup: “Yaoyaoling?”

Yaoyaoling hesitated for a second before nudging forward, shamelessly rubbing its head against Chu Junshan’s palm with flattering devotion.

The poor dog was thoroughly wrapped around Chu Junshan’s finger.

Chu Junshan gave the dog’s head a pat, only for the phone in his pocket to suddenly ring.

Looking down, he pulled out his phone. The illuminated screen displayed the caller ID: Jiang Chun.

He was a friend of Chu Junshan’s, as well as his contact person for various work assignments.

Without hesitation, Chu Junshan picked up, only to be met immediately with a shriek from the other end: “Chu Junshan!!! Where on earth are you?! I called you a million times, and you didn’t pick up. I thought something happened to you!”

Jiang Chun’s voice cracked at the end of his yell. Having vented his frustration over the ignored calls, his tone immediately snapped back to normal, though tinged with a hint of meekness: “U-Um, so, where are you right now? I stopped by your place early this morning, and you weren’t there. The editor-in-chief said that the client from last time has a new idea and wanted me to follow up with you, so in a moment of panic, I…”

“It’s fine,” Chu Junshan said calmly. “It was my oversight.”

Hearing those words, Jiang Chun finally felt his wildly trembling heart settle back into place.

Even though years had passed since leaving the Infinite Game, and even though he and Chu Junshan were life-and-death companions, Jiang Chun still treaded lightly whenever he faced Chu Junshan one-on-one.

It was an awe etched deep into his subconscious. A reaction carved into him after witnessing Chu Junshan’s terrifying power firsthand.

“I’m not at home,” Chu Junshan’s voice came through the earpiece, laced with faint static. “Let’s find a café to talk.”

“Alright.” Though Jiang Chun wanted to ask where he had gone, the question ultimately stayed behind his teeth.

A split second before hanging up, he suddenly heard Chu Junshan pose a completely unrelated question: “If a monster were to draw near to me, what do you think I would do?”

The instant the question took shape, it was as if a switch had been flipped inside Jiang Chun. Countless bloody, gruesome images rushed headlong into his mind.

In the end, one image fixed itself firmly before Jiang Chun’s eyes.

An expressionless, slender young man walked against the light, leaping alone into the filthy dark. Dark, crimson blood stained his white shirt red. Standing in profile, beneath his feet were suffocating layers of withered bones and severed flesh. The swirling black mist corroded his skin so pale it was almost translucent, yet Chu Junshan seemed completely oblivious.

Standing at the summit of a mountain of corpses and a sea of blood, he raised his foot and crushed every dark entity that dared to reach out for him.

Jiang Chun’s face drained of color in an instant. He opened his mouth. Only after a long silence did he manage to choke out: “I think… you’d probably kill it.”

“Jiang Chun, I’ve changed my mind.” The young man’s voice from his memory overlapped strangely with the man’s voice coming through the phone. He could even catch a thread of playful amusement in Chu Junshan’s tone. “I think living together with a monster might actually be quite interesting.”

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