Pretend to be crazy - Chapter 80

Shen Yan didn’t ask where Blaze and the others had gone.

The only thing he was sure of was that the three of them wouldn’t die.

If Ruan Zhixian actually felt like they were really together already, he would’ve definitely arranged for them to be nearby—just so he could show off in front of them every single day.

He told Shen Yan that he wanted everyone to see them exchange rings, see them kiss, see Shen Yan vow under the witness of a priest that he would forever be loyal to and love him.

After hearing that, Shen Yan pulled down two decorative pendants from the bedside lamp.

He had been a groomsman many times and was quite familiar with the whole procedure. As he slid a crystal loop onto Ruan Zhixian’s finger, he casually said things like “neither poverty nor riches can tear us apart.”

But deep down, he didn’t believe Ruan Zhixian would ever make it to marriage with him.

Ruan Zhixian was only twenty. He’d meet more people in the future, and once he realized he was nothing special, it’d be over.

Would it hurt when that time came?

Maybe.

Shen Yan’s face gave nothing away. He interlaced his fingers with his, the “rings” between them, and lazily smiled as he looked him in the eyes.

“Mr. Ruan, you’d better love me a little more.”

Ruan Zhixian proposed.

In the third year of their relationship.

The process was turbulent.

Ruan Zhixian had slashed and burned his way through District One, wiping out a bunch of disobedient people. The ones who remained, even if they weren’t happy with his decisions, had been threatened into pretending to behave.

Three years had passed. Black Star had changed significantly—everything was heading in an ideal direction, and the social situation had improved a lot.

Ruan Zhixian didn’t like managing things. He preferred acting independently. But giving up power now could undo all his previous efforts if the reactionary forces came back swinging.

And Black Star might end up even more chaotic than before.

He didn’t care if Black Star descended into chaos.

Actually, a little chaos would be better. Ideally, enough to get him kidnapped, tortured, forcing Shen Yan to fight through hell to save him and kill for him.

Then Shen Yan would hold him tenderly, thinking he was about to die, and in a tragic cinematic moment, he’d propose in a weak breath—and Shen Yan would definitely say yes.

He wanted to marry Shen Yan.

But Shen Yan didn’t want to.

He had brought it up many times, directly and indirectly. Shen Yan either outright refused, saying it wasn’t time yet, or deftly changed the subject. No matter how he approached it, the answer was always no.

For a while, he suspected that Shen Yan was in love with someone else.

He had someone investigate. A month later, they produced a long list of “suspects,” all of whom were just friends of Shen Yan.

Everything was normal—appropriate boundaries, and a few one-sided crushes that Shen Yan had never responded to in the slightest.

Only then did Ruan Zhixian feel relieved and start considering another possibility.

—That to Shen Yan, marriage held some kind of deeply symbolic meaning. Once accepted, it would elevate their relationship to another level entirely.

He was extremely curious about what Shen Yan would become.

He was too perfect a boyfriend.

He followed through on every promise, sent Ruan dozens of updates a day, let him install as many surveillance devices in the room as he wanted, listened to him vent, and plotted with him on how to turn those Black Star idiots into space junk.

He indulged Ruan’s obsessive tendencies without limit, catered to his twisted kinks, and even when he really couldn’t handle it, he never got angry. Afterwards, he’d lie there with Ruan’s head on his arm and mutter, “Ruan Zhixian, you’re messed up.”

And even with all that, Ruan was still unsatisfied.

Beneath the happiness, undercurrents of unease flowed.

He wanted all of Shen Yan.

Shen Yan was wonderful now, but not whole.

He kept many parts of his true self hidden, only letting others see the sunny, affable surface.

But Ruan Zhixian knew: he and Shen Yan were the same kind of person.

The pen drew a sharp line on the paper. With the last document signed, he had a month and a half free of any official interruptions.

He capped the pen Shen Yan had gifted him and placed it back on its stand before opening his terminal.

A video from Shen Yan popped up.

Snowy mountains, a world of white. Shen Yan wore a black-and-blue ski suit, his goggles pushed up, revealing bright, sparkling eyes. Beside him was a German Shepherd.

He had his arm around the dog. Its face looked stern and serious, but its tail was sweeping the snow behind it into a fan-shaped ditch.

Shen Yan smiled at it, clearly fond, and gave the dog’s head a hard kiss.

The German Shepherd held still for two seconds, then couldn’t resist anymore and lunged forward, licking him excitedly.

The video ended.

[Shen Yan: Big dog]

[Shen Yan: Just like Ruan Zhixian, so cute]

Ruan Zhixian scrolled up. It was all ski trip videos with Shen Yan and a few friends.

Everything was peaceful.

The perfect time to launch the plan.

If no one was going to kidnap him, then why not kidnap himself?

He finished watching, took a quiet breath, and thought: this is the only way. He had to marry Shen Yan. It was non-negotiable.

He typed a message in the chat:

[Ruan Zhixian: Let’s break up. This is boring now.]

He sent it and immediately turned off the screen. He needed time to mentally prepare to see Shen Yan’s reaction—and he wasn’t ready yet.

As he prepared, he went over the “script” he’d arranged.

Such a sudden breakup would definitely make Shen Yan suspicious.

And as long as he was suspicious, he’d start digging—and he’d discover that in just the short thirteen days since Shen Yan left, he had been ambushed and dragged into some huge mess, and had no choice but to break up in order to protect Shen Yan from being implicated.

Once Shen Yan overcame the series of challenges he had designed, and finally saw him—battered, barely alive—he’d pull out the ring he’d hidden in his pocket…

No, that part was too fake. No one would think of proposing in that situation. If Shen Yan saw through it, he’d get mad.

Then maybe he would wait until he was rushed into the emergency room and everyone thought he was dying…

That wouldn’t work either—because he wasn’t someone who died easily.

Tch.

Half an hour passed with no reply. Ruan Zhixian opened the terminal again and sent another message:

—If you don’t reply, I’ll take it as agreement.

The message didn’t go through.

A glaring red exclamation mark lit up next to it.

Ruan Zhixian crushed the terminal in his hand, his face dark and cold.

He. Had. Been. Blocked.

—

On the other end.

Shen Yan swiftly blocked every single way Ruan Zhixian could contact him. He ignored all the incoming spam calls and opened a new tab to buy a plane ticket to P City.

Last year, Red Star and Black Star had established a bilateral transit hub. The headquarters was in P City. With approval, people from both sides could now travel freely.

After skiing, they were cooking meat in a little wooden cabin. A friend moved fast and grabbed the best piece, offering it to him.

Shen Yan thanked him, stuffed the meat in his mouth without even looking, burned his mouth, chewed it twice with a scrunched-up face, and then finally swallowed.

The friend chuckled, then noticed Shen Yan’s open ticket booking screen. His smile faded slightly. “Didn’t you and your boyfriend make plans? There’s still stuff left on the schedule—why are you leaving today?”

Shen Yan finished his food in a few quick bites. “He’s rushing to get married again. Probably bored and starting to bug me.”

Friend: “So you’re just…”

Shen Yan handed over his bowl, stretched, and said: “I’ll send you a wedding invitation soon. Don’t forget the big red envelope.”

Ruan Zhixian was completely played—dancing in the palm of Shen Yan’s hand.