Ch 27: My Disabled Virtual Lover’s Healing Diary

During class, the campus was quiet. Dan Yu sat by a flowerbed planted with mechanical blossoms, his narrow eyes squinting into slits.

“Just this one card? Tsk, kid, you really don’t know what’s good for you.”

From the shadows came pitiful cries. A blond-haired boy crouched beside a student collapsed on the ground, slapping his face impatiently.

“Turn on your terminal. Transfer the entire balance to me.”

The boy on the ground sobbed, hiccupping between pleas, punctuated by threats and warnings from the blond. Before long, another figure stumbled out of the darkness, eyes red and swollen from crying. His too-tight white shirt clung to his belly, the back of his clothes smeared with long black stains from scraping against the ground.

He bolted like he was being chased by ghosts.

Dan Yu knew who he was—some cowardly, foolish fat kid whose father had appeared countless times in Capital Star’s Finance Daily.

On Capital Star, there were beggars who couldn’t even fill their stomachs, and people with all sorts of power and wealth. But power and status didn’t always mean anything—if you could find just a single weakness.

Dan Yu withdrew his gaze, his cold expression softening slightly.

“Brother Dan,” the blond boy hurried after, his face plastered with flattery, “what brings you to school all of a sudden?”

“Had some paperwork to submit.”

Dan Yu brushed it off lightly. His long, narrow eyes curved as he smiled. “When I came here at noon, I saw Cen Han. Speaking of which, how’s that matter I asked you to handle?”

It was just a casual question, but the blond stiffened, hesitation flickering in his face. Dan Yu arched a brow, his tone faint. “What’s the matter?”

—What was he supposed to say? That he’d seen a ghost that night? Who would believe him? Even he could hardly believe it. He’d even checked the interwebs to see if some planet had developed cloaking robots.

The blond hesitated, but in the end didn’t mention what happened. Instead, he gave a sheepish laugh. “Brother Dan, I did everything you told me to, but that guy wouldn’t give in no matter what. He’d rather take the beating than agree…”

Dan Yu narrowed his eyes again.

His pupils were as thin and slanted as his eye shape, sometimes making people think of cold-blooded creatures from certain planets. The blond, knowing the true face behind this campus celebrity, felt a chill crawl up his scalp. But then Dan Yu suddenly laughed.

“Doesn’t matter,” he said lazily. “I only wanted an excuse to rough him up a bit—Lu Di and Cen Xiaoyuan were enemies anyway. Let him be.”

He paused, the curve of his lips deepening. “What I really look forward to is seeing him on the streets, homeless.”

Confusion flickered across the blond’s face.

Dan Yu’s eyes curved further, offering no explanation. A trace of hidden excitement glinted in his gaze.

He remembered the face he’d seen years ago on the competition stage.

Pitiful. A family once so glorious, now fallen so far. A star prodigy, plummeting headlong into the mud.

No one could save him anymore.

…

The evening wind howled through the corridors, the silver-gray school buildings standing silent in the sunset.

Clouds gradually swallowed the fiery red sky, until the last traces of light faded into the dust.

It’s not your fault.
I won’t abandon you.

“…”

Cen Han’s heart stuttered.

It was like all his blood stopped flowing, only to surge back more wildly the next second. The mechanical voice and girl’s voice faded, yet he could still hear those words echoing, intertwining in his ears, refusing to leave.

So that’s what she thought.

…So that’s what she thought.

The boy parted his lips, wanting to say something, but his throat was blocked by a hard, sour lump. His Adam’s apple bobbed, he licked his dry lips, and finally forced out a sound. “You—”

The mechanical voice chimed in at the same time, flat in tone, but he could hear smug delight hiding in it.

【Cub, why do you cry so easily? I haven’t even spent that much money on you yet!】

Cen Han: “…”

He didn’t quite understand the last part, but still shifted awkwardly, turning his face aside in embarrassment.

He couldn’t remember crying much in his life.

When he begged to follow that man into the army and was nearly worked to the bone, he hadn’t cried. When he first saw the hideous Zerg with their gaping, toothy maws, he hadn’t cried. Not when he lay blind and crippled in the hospital bed, and not when he later learned the truth.

But just now—

His ears burned. The little ghost teased him further, repeating “Cub” and “Little Crybaby” like she was testing which nickname sounded cuter.

Color spread from his ears across his face, staining even his pale neck red.

Maybe it was shame, or maybe something else stirred by those words, but his thoughts slipped free of reason.

Cen Han blurted out, “You had other cubs before?”

The moment the words left him, it was like a pebble dropped into his chest, making his heart jolt.

Why ask that?

She’d said he was her only cub.

No need to overthink.

…Wait, he wasn’t a cub at all!

A storm of messy thoughts rushed through his head. Only a few seconds later did he realize she had paused, not answering right away.

【Cough cough cough cough…】

Qian Yuan’s hands hovered over the input box, staring at the diary’s mood values with guilty unease.

【There were one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight—】

In just the time it took to type, Cub’s mood value plummeted. Flustered, she accidentally typed gibberish, hurriedly deleted it, and retyped.

【There were a few cubs before…】

Tiny 【-1】 bubbles popped up beside the value, stacking into a row. Qian Yuan’s chest tightened as she rushed to type another message.

【But although I had a few before, now there’s only you!! Really!!】

Cub’s chubby face betrayed no emotion.

Qian Yuan stared nervously at the diary. But her words had no effect—the mood value kept falling at a steady pace.

Just as it was about to hit single digits, the 【-1】 bubbles suddenly froze.

Cub lifted his face, dark eyes blinking once, and asked hoarsely, “What about in the future?”

Qian Yuan: …This is a death flag.

She suspected that answering wrong would unlock a Bad Ending. Without hesitation, she typed.

【In the future, it’ll only ever be you.】

The mood value ticked 【+1】, then after a long pause, another 【+1】. Pale green bubbles hesitantly pushed aside the red ones, and the number slowly began to rise again.

Qian Yuan finally exhaled in relief, muttering to herself.

—This kind of death trap shows up way too suddenly! Did I trigger some hidden horror keyword?

“Why does raising a cub feel like getting caught cheating by a husband in a dating sim,” she whispered, “Who even came up with this awful question…”

Before she finished, her peripheral vision caught a flash of scarlet. The open diary page flooded with red bubbles, lines of text scrawling rapidly across it.

Her eyes widened, but before she could read them, Cub spoke again.

His voice was frozen ice, yet beneath the ice boiled turbulent emotion, pressing against layers of restraint. Only the faintest trace of it seeped out.

Cub inhaled lightly, his tone utterly calm.

“…Do you have a husband?”

Qian Yuan: “…”

Qian Yuan: “???”

Wait, wait.

What the hell was this?!

ִֶָ. ..𓂃 ࣪ ִֶָ🦋་༘࿐