Later, Yan Mo found it somewhat amusing when he thought about it.
The moment he heard the system’s explanation, he had assumed he was entering a sweet romance novel or a heartwarming love story.
The mission targets were all outstanding and handsome—the chosen sons of heaven in every world.
How could a young man who had just graduated from university and had never been in love resist falling for them?
The system had said:
If he truly fell in love with a target, he could choose to stay in that world.
So Yan Mo really did fall in love.
If he succeeded, he planned to stay for that person.
At least, that was what he had thought at the time.
Besides, when a relationship first begins, no one knows whether the person they love is truly worth entrusting their life to.
No one can predict how a relationship will end.
If someone had told Yan Mo from the start that they would never end up together, he never would have taken it seriously.
Maybe his approach to the missions had been wrong.
Yan Mo reflected on it.
He failed with An Zhihan.
It was his first heartbreak.
The system comforted him, saying the second time would be better.
But after loving someone that sincerely, how could he simply fall in love with another person immediately after leaving?
Fortunately, there was always a break between missions.
Yan Mo never jumped straight from one relationship into another.
Each time, he gave everything he had.
Then returned disappointed.
Picked himself up.
Started over.
Again and again.
Until little by little, his expectations for love were worn away.
Yan Mo felt the system was right.
His luck in love really was terrible.
He kept running into walls over and over again.
People often said that two people in love were connected by a red thread.
But Yan Mo had never been the one to let go first.
No matter how heartbroken he was, he had never willingly given up.
And eventually…
He simply didn’t want to continue anymore.
Like an emptied soda can, there was nothing left inside him.
Not a single drop of emotion remained.
Yet only after he stopped believing in love did those men suddenly regret everything.
“It’s not just because I’m still upset with them.”
Yan Mo lowered his eyes.
“I also feel… empty.”
“Tired.”
“Lost.”
“I can’t remember the feeling of liking someone the way I used to.”
“And I don’t have the excitement or happiness I once had to give them in return.”
Even the hottest expectations couldn’t survive disappointment over and over again.
“System.”
“You can tell the Main God this is my responsibility.”
“I’ll do my best to solve it.”
Yan Mo gently rubbed the smooth top of the glowing sphere.
Though exhaustion showed in his dark eyes, he still smiled reassuringly at it.
The system felt heartbroken.
Looking at him, it asked:
[Why did you agree?]
[Are you afraid of the pain?]
“No.”
[Then do you still like them?]
“No.”
The young man hugged the glowing sphere.
Looking at the innocent system, he lowered his voice.
A trace of guilt surfaced in his heart.
“I’m not good at anything.”
“I failed every mission and couldn’t earn any points for you.”
“And now the Main God has to work overtime because of me.”
“It feels like I’m always causing trouble for everyone.”
He smiled softly.
“I’m really… pretty useless.”
Then he curved his eyes gently.
“This time, I don’t want to cause trouble for anyone anymore.”
The new project Yin Liuguang was filming was a massive production.
A famous director.
A huge investment.
Rumor said it was being prepared for international awards.
The entire cast consisted of veteran actors.
Even a top idol like Yin Liuguang wasn’t the lead.
Ordinary investors had no influence here.
His company had gone through tremendous effort just to secure him a minor supporting role.
Of course, they weren’t expecting him to win awards.
This was simply a chance to transform his image and add a prestigious title to his resume.
“What are they doing over there?”
Sitting in a folding chair, Yin Liuguang bent his long legs and searched online for how to pursue someone on his phone.
The noise from the set distracted him.
He looked up and asked Cheng-ge.
“They’re conducting a ritual.”
Cheng-ge replied.
Before filming began, a master had been invited to calculate an auspicious starting time.
The director valued this project immensely.
To ensure a smooth beginning, he had specially invited a renowned Feng Shui master and metaphysics expert famous throughout the entertainment industry.
“Mmm~”
Yin Liuguang narrowed his eyes toward a young man in a wheelchair being fussed over by the director.
A hint of interest appeared.
“He’s pretty good-looking.”
Yin Liuguang was notoriously picky when it came to appearances.
For him to call someone good-looking meant that person was exceptionally handsome.
Cheng-ge nodded.
Afraid the little ancestor might get curious and cause trouble, he immediately lowered his voice in warning.
“That guy’s name is Chu Chen.”
“Don’t let his age fool you. He’s the real deal.”
“Remember that Taiwanese actress who got backlash for raising spirit children? He was the one who resolved it.”
“All kinds of powerful people visit him.”
“He’s got enormous influence and doesn’t give face to anyone.”
“I’m telling you, Liuguang, don’t provoke him.”
“With people like that, it’s better to believe than not believe.”
“I heard that—”
Once Cheng-ge started worrying, he never stopped talking.
At first Yin Liuguang listened.
Soon enough, annoyance spread across his face.
“I got it already!”
The beautiful idol rolled his eyes.
So annoying.
With a sour expression, he suddenly thought of Yan Mo.
Looking down at his phone again, he continued researching ways to pursue someone.
The internet suggested flowers.
“Tch. How cliché.”
As someone who had always been pursued and had never pursued anyone himself, the idol scoffed.
After sitting quietly for a while, however, he awkwardly searched for flower shops anyway.
Elsewhere.
“Master, what are you looking at?”
Yin Hongshang, who was pushing Chu Chen’s wheelchair, followed his gaze and spotted the idol who had become famous throughout Asia.
Yin Hongshang was Chu Chen’s eldest disciple.
Despite his feminine-sounding name, he was a broad-shouldered, rugged man from Shandong.
“How strange.”
“That idol’s physiognomy is unusual.”
Yin Hongshang frowned.
“His romantic luck is incredibly strong.”
“And his career fortune is overwhelming.”
“It’s obvious he’ll remain popular for a long time.”
“But his relationship line…”
It was so faint it was almost gone.
Yin Hongshang had met countless celebrities through his master.
Many of them claimed publicly to be single while secretly having chaotic private lives—or even children.
It was rare to see someone with such a weak relationship fate.
Especially someone so famous.
“Master, what did you see?”
Yin Hongshang asked.
The man in the wheelchair looked pale enough to resemble a sculpture carved from cold jade.
His dark, lifeless eyes withdrew from Yin Liuguang.
Then he spoke in his usual cold, concise manner.
“You’ll perform the ritual later.”
Yin Hongshang blinked before nodding.
“Understood, Master.”
He wisely suppressed his curiosity when Chu Chen changed the subject.
Meanwhile, Chu Chen remained expressionless.
A stranger.
Yet he carried the same ominous signs of conflict and turmoil that surrounded himself—and many others.
Why?
Yin Liuguang returned home carrying a bouquet of pink-and-white lilies.
Ignoring Cheng-ge’s dumbfounded expression, he walked inside with one hand in his pocket.
His youthful face showed unusual awkwardness.
The fingers inside his pocket rubbed together nervously.
It was a first for him.
He rehearsed excuses in his head.
If Yan Mo asked why he bought flowers, he’d just say he picked them up casually.
How embarrassing would it be to admit they were for him?
As for why he hadn’t bought red roses—
Tch.
No way.
Red roses were stupid and uncool.
Would Yan Mo like them?
No.
Of course he would.
And if he dared not like them, Yin Liuguang would never buy flowers again.
Frowning, the idol scratched his hair.
But to his surprise, Yan Mo had fallen asleep on the sofa.
The living room had been completely transformed.
The scattered game consoles and discs were neatly arranged inside the TV cabinet.
Snack wrappers and crumbs had disappeared.
Blankets and jackets that had once been thrown everywhere were neatly folded away.
Pale blue sticky notes covered various corners of the house.
“Snacks are here.”
“Ice cream and yogurt.”
“Nail clippers are in the first drawer.”
Several notes were attached to the TV cabinet:
“Game consoles and discs are here.”
“Remember to put them back when you’re done.”
“If you can’t find the ones you rarely use, check the cabinet beside it.”
Yin Liuguang froze.
A warm current suddenly flowed through his chest.
He remembered.
Yan Mo used to tidy his room exactly like this.
Afraid he wouldn’t be able to find things, Yan Mo always left notes everywhere.
But Yin Liuguang would use something and casually toss it aside.
Because he knew Yan Mo would clean it up again.
The reminders never worked.
So Yan Mo would sigh helplessly and keep cleaning up after him over and over.
Holding the flowers, Yin Liuguang stood at the entrance for a long time.
Like a cat suddenly dropped into an unfamiliar environment, he seemed uncertain whether he should take a single step forward.
Eventually, he approached the sofa quietly and crouched beside it.
The large bouquet of fragrant lilies rested at his feet.
With one elbow propped on his knee and his chin resting in his palm, he silently watched the sleeping young man.
After a very long time, he finally reached out and poked Yan Mo’s cheek with one finger.
“…So ugly.”
He pouted and muttered in disdain.
Yet confusion quietly filled his heart.
Why did it feel so warm?
He observed him.
More carefully than ever before.