"You want… how many more husbands?"
This was not the first time Pei Chongqing had heard Yu Ning make such a request.
When she first arrived and was still unaccustomed to this place, she spent her days crying and begging to go home. She would sob quietly, wipe her tears in silence, her tears flowing as if they would never run dry.
"Home" was the word he heard most frequently from her lips—so much so that before she had even begun to teach him, it became one of the first words he learned on his own.
It was only after grasping the concept of "home" that Pei Chongqing realized he had never truly had a dwelling of his own.
He constantly changed his skin-shells, much like humans changing clothes. A human's home was a stable dwelling formed with beloved family and companions—a steel cage they built themselves in their world.
Comparing against the iron cages in his memories, Pei Chongqing drifted from place to place with Yu Ning, searching for a suitable home. They cycled through many abandoned cages, and fought over cages that held soul-spirits, until they found this building—the only one Yu Ning was willing to settle in long-term.
Getting her to stay contentedly was no simple task.
She was delicate and easily unsettled by the slightest disturbance; her territorial instincts were extremely strong, and without a sufficiently spacious domain, she would grow depressed; she needed copious amounts of food and amusements to pass the time, as well as water—the most vital resource for humans—lest both her body and soul wither and dry up. So he had no choice but to carve out his own heart and soul-spirit to sustain Yu Ning and this home, while regularly venturing outside to scavenge for resources.
Half a heart, carrying half of his psychic power and life force. Yu Ning's body was too fragile to have it implanted, so he could only transform this half-heart into a piece of jade and hang it around her neck.
His soul-spirit was drawn out from his body, buried deep beneath the earth, supplying the home with water and electricity, shielded from wind and cold. It had also once taken residence in his left eye, watching over her every move and the surrounding environment.
When she wanted to keep a dog, when she wanted a child, only then did the soul-spirit take residence within the black hound's body.
This building was clean, tidy, and spacious, free from the invasion of monsters and evil spirits, with ample water and food. With him, and with a black dog younger than her as company, why was she still unsatisfied? Why did she still want to go home?
Pei Chongqing knew that what Yu Ning meant by "going home" was not as simple as moving to a new place.
She wanted to return to that world from before—a world where he did not exist.
Pei Chongqing's expression darkened. Staring at his wife's tearful eyes, he spoke in an icy voice: "You cannot go back."
It was the answer she had expected.
Yu Ning's heart sank to the depths, and tears spilled from her eyes involuntarily.
She clung to her husband's lean waist and refused to let go—though naturally, Pei Chongqing never pushed her away of his own accord.
He was the type who wished he could keep her attached to him all day long. That was exactly what he had done before.
Yu Ning knew that tears were the least effective weapon in matters like this. But as she pressed her ear against his chest and sobbed, she belatedly detected a subtle ambiguity in his terse words.
When he said "cannot go back"—did he mean he wouldn't allow it, or that he truly couldn't?
Could there be a possibility that he knew the way back, but was afraid of that world, and that was why…
Yu Ning bit her lip and lifted her gaze to steal a glance at the man above her.
He was looking at her too—had been looking at her all along, never once averting his gaze.
Yu Ning shifted her waist slightly, burying her face into his chest once more.
No, no.
How could she doubt him so carelessly?
She was a queen who never left her chambers, content to stay at home, issuing commands from her throne—while he was a soldier perpetually on alert, never once refusing her demands. For her, he would do anything, risk anything, even his own life.
But was this truly a prison with no way out?
Yu Ning began to harbor the desire to venture out and explore on her own, yet she was far too cowardly and afraid of death to act on it. For now, she could only focus on studying the book she had yet to understand.
Rummaging through boxes and cabinets in search of similar notes, she stumbled upon a diary Jiang Xian had once written. Reading the lines of handwriting, a dull ache swelled in her chest, and she unconsciously crumpled the corners of the pages.
During this period, Yu Ning also refused to let Pei Chongqing leave the house, unless the food supply couldn't last another two days.
After that "argument," Pei Chongqing had been especially tactful, refraining from initiating any intimacy. Yu Ning likewise kept him at arm's length, but this wasn't a cold war—it was simply that she could no longer engage in such acts with a clear conscience. Besides, they were running low on condoms.
Yu Ning wasn't sure if Pei Chongqing was upset, but in any case, she held the belief that good intimate relationships required honesty. So she came clean to him about her ongoing contraceptive measures, and the result was receiving his gentlemanly treatment in return.
There was nothing wrong with that, but perhaps because she was accustomed to his constant closeness, being treated with such coolness left a bitter taste in her heart.
Especially when she stumbled awake during the night to use the bathroom and caught sight of him relieving himself.
Yu Ning's eyes went wide, her scalp tingling—she couldn't believe her husband was pleasuring himself while she lay sound asleep.
Though, this wasn't the first time.
She held her breath, not daring to make a sound, enduring the urge to pee as she watched him without blinking. Her cheeks burned, yet she felt an inexplicable sense of reassurance, thinking this was probably the most considerate thing her inarticulate husband could do.
Realizing this, Yu Ning belatedly wanted to beat herself to death.
God, what on earth was she being so understanding about?
Yu Ning knew she was weak-willed, often having untimely altruistic thoughts that she even acted upon. But… if Pei Chongqing didn't ask, she certainly didn't want to help him.
She also didn't want to wake up—she just wanted to roll over and go back to sleep. But she had gotten up to pee, and even if she hadn't seen him like that, how could she possibly fool herself into pretending to sleep?
Yu Ning wrestled with herself for a long while, until she finally couldn't hold it in anymore. Pretending to be oblivious and just waking up, she spoke up to remind him.
She tried to get him to clean himself up… at least hide from her, so she could use the bathroom normally. But Pei Chongqing clearly hadn't developed any sense of shame.
He walked straight over and carried her to the bathroom.
And he didn't let go—he personally held her while she relieved herself, even remembering to take tissue to wipe her clean.
This wasn't the first time either, but every time it happened, Yu Ning nearly died of embarrassment.
She returned to the bed with a flushed face and finally couldn't help but nag at him.
Pei Chongqing didn't talk back. He watched her, listening until she finished. Finally, his hand stroking hers suddenly spoke: "I'm sorry, don't be mad at me."
It was a familiar male voice, clear and low in timbre, nothing like the AI voice she usually heard.
Yu Ning was momentarily stunned. Before she could process what she had heard, her towering husband bowed his head to kiss her lips.
His kiss was gentle, like a young animal licking the tips of one's fingers—only the faint suction of a prickling sensation grazing across.
Something in Yu Ning's mind was seized. Drowsiness struck her all at once, making her eyelids heavy, and she soon fell asleep.
When she woke, Yu Ning vaguely remembered that Pei Chongqing seemed to have apologized to her last night—but it might have just been a dream.
She listened to the sound of running water in the bathroom, concluding that Pei Chongqing was showering. She gently massaged her temples, intending to sleep a little longer, when her gaze suddenly caught a piece of paper on the nightstand.
Yu Ning paused, then picked it up to look. On it were three lines of crooked handwriting, so rough it looked like a five- or six-year-old's first attempt at writing.
She froze, a tingling ache shooting through her chest like an electric shock. She recognized the writer at once.
These few short lines followed proper letter format. At the top was her name—"Dear wife Yu Ning"—followed by a greeting and an apology written in a mix of colloquial and formal language, mainly for the argument a few days prior (which had been her throwing a one-sided tantrum). It ended with a closing blessing and a signature with the date—he had written his own name worse than hers, even though "Yu" had far more strokes.
Seeing this letter first thing in the morning, Yu Ning couldn't help but smile. She finally understood why he had been sitting obediently beside her these past few days.
So he had been writing an apology letter.
Yu Ning felt both gratified and incredulous. He wasn't the studious type, especially when it came to practicing handwriting.
The sound of water stopped, followed by the crisp click of a lock mechanism. Yu Ning looked over and saw the tall man emerging from his bath.
Her heart stirred. She couldn't wait for him to come closer—she got out of bed, slipped on her slippers, and went to embrace him.
His broad chest still carried a lingering damp warmth. Yu Ning breathed in the moisture, holding up the letter as a faint dimple appeared on her cheek: "You can write letters yourself? Without me teaching you?"
Pei Chongqing wasn't wearing his Translator. He hesitated a moment before lowering his gaze and letting out a brief sound of acknowledgment.
The short syllable made it hard to discern his tone, and Yu Ning didn't think much of it, still lost in the tingling warmth the letter had brought. She knew well how to maintain balance in an intimate relationship, so she offered her own goodwill: "I wasn't actually mad at you. And I was wrong before too—I shouldn't have said those things."
Seeing her smile, Pei Chongqing's lips curved slightly, and he let out another "Mm."
Mm?
Still mm?
She had only apologized symbolically.
Yu Ning looked at his smiling face, pursed her lips, and figured he probably didn't know how to respond. So she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him.
Pei Chongqing's hand settled on her soft waist, as if he wanted to do more, but the restraint in his mind curbed his impulses. In the end, he only returned his wife's brief, shallow kiss.
After a while of being clingy, Yu Ning felt it was about time for him to head out.
She wasn't giving up this time—she had made many message bottles.
Pei Chongqing tried to open one to look, but she stopped him. He asked what they were.
Yu Ning didn't know how to explain, so she just told him to find places and scatter them one by one.
Pei Chongqing, who was always obedient, rejected her request this time: "They carry your scent."
"Not allowed."
Yu Ning pressed her lips together. "Why?"
"Monsters." Pei Chongqing used that unfamiliar yet familiar word, speaking tersely. "They'll find you."
Even those withered funeral flowers she had watered—as long as they hadn't completely disintegrated, they would still retain a trace of her scent. Any monster with even a hint of cunning, if interested in her, would follow the smell—likewise, the "message bottles" were no different from a beacon that could pierce through the Domain Illusion.
Yu Ning's heart quailed, and she immediately lost her nerve. She clenched her sweaty palms, but quickly found a blind spot: "Then how do you deal with the trash at home?"
Pei Chongqing kept his eyes fixed on her, but he did not answer her question.
He was not as foolish as Yu Ning imagined. He knew what could be answered and what could not, which lies could be rounded out and which could not, and whether memories were easy to erase, and whether it would have a negative impact on her.
Occasionally, he would also feel that he should pour a little more Psychic Power into his wife, making her feel light and airy, forgetting her obsession with going home—but that would be no different from erasing part of her personality and lowering her vigilance toward this place.
Yu Ning bit her lip until it broke, and in the end, she still compromised—she would not throw those message bottles.
Hearing this, Pei Chongqing curved his lips and gave her his signature smile.
Yu Ning continued to bargain, and this time she aimed big: "Then, then you can at least bring one person back, right?"
Jiang Xian could survive a week out there and then stumble his way to her place by accident—she refused to believe that Pei Chongqing really couldn't bring back other survivors.
Back when she was wandering, she had also seen other people barely clinging to life… it was just that the conditions were poor then, and there was no way to save them.
Yu Ning peeled back the layers of her memories, thinking of the faces she had seen. She did not notice that Pei Chongqing's expression was growing darker and darker.
Until his Translator coldly and smoothly dropped a single sentence—"How many more husbands do you want?"