Pretend to be crazy - Chapter 59

Ai Wei liked flirting with handsome men. If there had been more time, Shen Yan wouldn’t have minded using gentler methods to achieve his goal.

But now, with Warren watching like a hawk—as if one more sentence might make him beat someone to death—he had to consider his mood.

Ai Wei was no stranger to danger. She could tell Shen Yan’s threats didn’t carry any real danger.

She didn’t see a gun. Even if he did pull one out, she didn’t believe he’d pull the trigger.

An unheard-of young man who knew her identity and about a secret lab never made public?

Not simple.

Ai Wei narrowed her eyes at Shen Yan and asked seriously, “Whose man are you?”

Shen Yan: “Three minutes left.”

Warren  walked to the window and reminded him, “Shen Yan, someone’s coming.”

Shen Yan nodded and shortened the countdown by two minutes. “One minute left.”

Kony was too cautious to be on the island, but his power was enough to get people here to protect his playful wife.

Ai Wei chuckled. “What do you want?”

“Clones.”

“And what can you offer me in return?”

As soon as Shen Yan heard that, he knew the deal was practically sealed. He took off his mask and smiled at her. “Compared to Kony, I think you are more suited to be the boss of a gang.”

Ai Wei widened her eyes in surprise. She burst into laughter. “You’ve got guts, young man.”

Warren didn’t understand what was happening, but he stepped closer to Shen Yan, ready to take him away.

But Shen Yan merely patted his arm and signaled him to take off his mask.

Warren didn’t know why, but he obeyed.

Shen Yan casually opened a bottle of wine. This luxury suite had top-tier service—even the wine was of fine quality.

Low in alcohol, the rosy pink wine shimmered in the glass, with bubbles rising delicately.

Shen Yan poured a glass each for Warren and Ai Wei. Warren, following Shen Yan’s lead, clinked glasses with her.

The wine was sweet. Shen Yan took a sip. When he heard the knock on the door, he strolled over without haste and opened it.

The people outside clearly hadn’t expected the door to be opened so calmly. They locked eyes with Shen Yan for a second, then immediately raised their guns. Just as one was about to fire, Warren twisted his neck and snapped it.

The others saw this as a signal that the kidnappers were dangerous. They immediately prepared for an aggressive shootout, planning to eliminate the enemy before they had a chance to react.

Warren sensed the shift in atmosphere. A grin appeared. His combat instincts—honed in the lab—kicked in, adrenaline pumping. He was ready to turn the place into a bloodbath.

Shen Yan glanced back at Ai Wei—a subtle warning.

“All right, I was just messing with you,” Ai Wei’s voice came from inside, cutting through the rising tension.

She strolled out, looped her arm through Shen Yan’s, and yawned lazily. “Just teasing my husband a bit. Wanted to see if he’d choose me or that random sister of his. Don’t get so tense.”

These people were under Kony’s orders to monitor Ai Wei’s gang. When they first arrived, Ai Wei complained about them following her, so after getting permission, they spread out. That’s how the “kidnapping” happened.

Truthfully, they didn’t really see it as a kidnapping.

They knew her nasty temperament. When they got the message from their boss, they weren’t especially alarmed. Seeing her unharmed, the squad leader merely sighed—just as expected.

Many people had died in the power struggle between Ai Wei and Kony.

Ai Wei hated him and by extension, hated his subordinates. She often engineered losses on their side during operations.

The squad leader’s gaze shifted from the dead man on the floor to the young man who had opened the door.

A new favorite of Ai Wei’s?

If it hadn’t been for him, probably half of their team would have died outside Room 1321 of Ant Hotel tonight.

Without Kony’s direct orders, they didn’t dare act solely on Ai Wei’s words. It was almost 2 a.m., so they reported the situation to Kony.

He responded quickly—he called Ai Wei directly.

Shen Yan stood by as Ai Wei and Kony flirted and bickered. Every word sounded affectionate, but was laced with mutual loathing. For some reason, Ruan Zhixian’s face flashed through his mind.

Ruan Zhixian…

Was very much like Kony.

He seemed obsessed with Shen Yan, clung to him, craved him again and again, wanted to die with him on the bed. But when it came to true love, he probably didn’t even match Falson, who just projected a perfect “mother” image onto Shen Yan.

Who knew what role Ruan Zhixian planned to play in this Paradise Island operation?

On the ship, he was a waiter. Then, suddenly, he turned into a devout churchgoer.

It was like he always floated outside the plot—calmly watching the show.

Shen Yan lowered his eyes, fingers curling slightly.

Then watch closely.

It’ll probably be the last time.

Ai Wei ended the call by hanging up on Kony.

In the final stretch of the call, Kony grew anxious. He demanded to know who recorded her on video and threatened her—if she dared mess around with someone he hadn’t approved, he’d reduce the digits on her tongue ring so she could only kiss two people a day.

Shen Yan: “……”

It had nothing to do with him, but he still felt like he’d been dragged into this.

Ai Wei looked at him  and shrugged. “Can’t help it. My husband’s just that unreasonable and annoying.”

She waved her hand. “All right, it’s over. You guys can leave.”

With that order, the crowd quietly dispersed.

A self-directed farce came to an anticlimactic end.

Ai Wei left.

Even if she wanted a late-night chat with Shen Yan, that annoying husband wouldn’t allow it.

A man died tonight. Shen Yan and Warren were called in by Paradise Island’s security for questioning. Their identities were thoroughly verified. It wasn’t until around 4 a.m. that they were released.

The underlings cleaned up the body efficiently. Since the incident occurred before the exhibit started, Paradise Island’s management collaborated with Kony to suppress the news.

Luckily, it happened around 1 a.m., when most people were resting. The underlings were careful not to make a ruckus. Few witnessed the scene, and most didn’t know what really happened.

Shen Yan switched rooms, Warren followed him.

They entered together. Dawn was approaching. Shen Yan yawned, still buzzing with energy. He went to wash up.

Water trickled down Shen Yan’s face, soaking his features. He looked dewy and soft.

Warren stared at him, clearly full of thoughts.

Shen Yan: “What is it? If you have questions, ask.”

“Clones.”

Warren organized his thoughts, paused a few seconds, then asked slowly, “Did you go to her… to clone yourself?”

“You’re planning something dangerous again, aren’t you?”

Shen Yan said nothing. He brushed past him, drew the curtains, checked the room, and used a program Blaze gave him to disable monitoring devices. Once he was sure there were no mechanical eyes on them, he said bluntly:

“I want to die.”

Warren froze. “What did you say?!”

Shen Yan sighed and leaned into him, resting his head softly in the crook of his neck.

Warren didn’t dare move. His body stiffened, but he forced himself to relax and adjusted his posture to let Shen Yan rest more comfortably.

It was rare.

In the past, every act of intimacy had been strategic—forced or manipulative. Warren was stronger, could have easily killed him, but emotionally, he was always led by Shen Yan, completely at a disadvantage.

Now, Shen Yan’s vulnerability was unprecedented. This wasn’t the same man who played the lead in their twisted love story.

A warm feeling bloomed in Warren’s chest. He lowered his gaze, taking in Shen Yan’s clean scent and warm body. For once, everything felt pure, even their strange, distorted relationship.

“What happened?” he held him gently. “I know you always have your plans. I’m not forcing you to tell me. Even if you don’t, that’s okay.”

Shen Yan looked up. “I want to die. I don’t want to live this precarious life anymore.”

He frowned slightly, guiltlessly shifting all the blame onto Ruan Zhixian. “You know how we met. On the ship, I called you husband, used you, tricked you—just so I could survive.”

“Everything that’s happened since has Ruan Zhixian’s shadow behind it.”

“He treats me like a pawn. Loves seeing me struggle to survive. No matter how hard I fight, it’s useless under his control.”

Warren sensed a certain emotional undercurrent and, trying to stay calm, asked, “…So?”

Shen Yan: “I can’t escape him on my own. I need someone’s help.”

Warren’s heart raced. His pupils contracted in disbelief. Me? He avoided the question. “Falson is tricky, but Blaze treats you well. He would help too.”

Shen Yan’s gaze dimmed. He stepped back, looking disappointed. “Blaze is good, but…”

His words abruptly cut off. His expression shifted again—back to that careless, flirtatious grin, as if he could lie to the whole world.

“Kidding,” he said.

Warren felt like his heart wasn’t his own anymore. He grabbed Shen Yan and pulled him into a hug, speaking rapidly: “I’ll do it, Shen Yan. I will.”

“You want to take me with you, right?”

Shen Yan took a deep breath. This time, no games: “Yes. To a safe—”

His sentence was cut off by a sudden knock on the door.

Both Warren and Shen Yan turned to look.

The knocking was slow and steady.

Shen Yan opened the door.

A plain-looking man stood outside with a food cart.

“Hello. Room service.”

“Would you like breakfast?”

“…Brother.”

—

Ruan Zhixian really can’t hide his scent, tsk.