The message was from Pei Xi.
He'd been Qiu Yu's classmate since childhood—and now, her colleague.
Pei Xi was a news anchor for Yucheng's local television station. With his handsome looks, gentle manner, and privileged background, he had always been popular with viewers and well-liked in general.
He and Qiu Yu had grown up together, bonded long before either had any real sense of gender or romance. That deep-rooted familiarity remained even after she got married.
Qiu Yu had never agreed with the idea that being in a relationship—or married—meant cutting off ties with friends of the opposite sex. If Chen Ce Bai had close female friends, she wouldn't demand he stop seeing them either.
Her conscience was clear, so she'd stayed in touch with Pei Xi as usual.
Qiu Yu: [What's up?]
Pei Xi replied instantly: [I want to treat you to a meal.]
Qiu Yu thought for a second, then agreed. The project she'd been working on was now suspended, and there was nothing waiting for her at home.
[Where?]
Pei Xi sent over an address.
Qiu Yu got into her car, pulled up the navigation system, fastened her seatbelt, and started driving toward the location he'd sent.
On the way, she passed through a slum.
It was a half-finished building, its metal scaffolding still intact, yet already occupied. Neon signs flickered against cracked concrete, paper ads peeled off rusted poles, and makeshift corrugated plastic was slapped over broken windows to keep the wind out. The ground was slick with sewage and greenish foam.
A doctor from an unlicensed clinic was washing his surgical tools in a basin right out in the open. Blood crusted the sink, so thick that cold water couldn't wash it away.
Qiu Yu had never set foot in a slum before.
She'd been raised with a traditional elite education and once took it for granted that people like this were simply society's castoffs.
But after marrying Chen Ce Bai, her worldview had begun to shift. She slowly came to realize that maybe it wasn't as simple as survival of the fittest.
After all, social Darwinism hinges on the idea that the strong survive and the weak perish.
So why, out of the countless people in the slums, was only Chen Ce Bai the one who had made it out?
In Qiu Yu's social circle, Chen Ce Bai was the only one who'd come from poverty.
She rubbed her brow, wondering how the so-called "100% compatibility" from their marital screening had even been calculated.
Just the sheer class divide between them should've made such a match impossible.
Qiu Yu let out a sigh, forcing these thoughts aside. She arrived at the restaurant Pei Xi had picked, parked her car, and stepped out.
Suddenly, a jolt of static shot through her spine—like a faint electric current darting across her nerves.
She froze mid-step.
People passed by without noticing, but if anyone had looked closely, they would've seen it—her pupils dilated to the max, her breath short, lashes trembling.
She looked like a creature caught in the crosshairs of a predator—paralyzed, unable to flee.
In that split second after stepping out of the car, she had locked eyes with someone.
She didn't know who, or where "he" was. But she had a gut-deep certainty—he was watching her, and he wanted to hunt her.
He knew she could feel the stare—that mix of stealth and aggression—and that it was already stirring up fear in her.
Yet the gaze didn't waver. It slid slowly across her face and down her throat, as though savoring her terror.
Two seconds later, it vanished.
Everything went back to normal.
Except her breathing.
Qiu Yu wiped the cold sweat from her brow, swallowed hard, and turned on the visual diagnostics in her implant chip. She began scanning the area for hidden cameras.
She checked her tires, mirrors, door handles, seat crevices, dashboard, steering wheel—even glanced at a nearby fire hydrant and the bushes—nothing. No sign of surveillance.
Either it was a self-destructing camera, or maybe a drone that had zipped by just overhead.
With how advanced surveillance tech had become, it wasn't hard to spy on someone from a distance.
Still, she told herself, don't spiral into paranoia.
She deactivated the chip's scanner—but her fingers were still trembling.
She held her forehead, took several deep breaths to steady herself, then opened the trunk and pulled out a pistol. Just as she was about to chamber a round, a voice, low and amused, called out:
"You need a gun just to meet me?"
Startled, Qiu Yu almost fired on reflex.
She spun around—and sure enough, it was Pei Xi.
He wore a black suit, jacket draped over one arm, white shirt slightly unbuttoned at the collar. He was smiling.
Qiu Yu laughed, a little sheepishly. "Leftover nerves from the serial killer case. Carrying a gun makes me feel safer."
Pei Xi slipped his jacket on and walked over. One hand landed gently on her shoulder; with the other, he casually brushed the sweaty strands of hair at the back of her neck.
"You're drenched. AC broken in the car?"
Pei Xi wasn't flirtatious by nature. In fact, he was polite and composed with everyone—but maybe because they'd grown up together, he was less restrained with her.
He often tucked her hair behind her ear, buckled her seatbelt, or tested her forehead for a fever with the back of his hand. If a shoot went wrong and her clothes got soaked or stained, he'd shrug off his suit jacket and drape it over her shoulders.
Yucheng was a city steeped in traditional Eastern values. It wasn't as relaxed about gender dynamics as other places, so Pei Xi's behavior had drawn a fair share of whispers.
At first, Qiu Yu had felt awkward about it—until that one dinner.
Pei Xi had been over at her home. She brought out a beautifully thawed organic steak, ready to show off her cooking skills.
He promptly booted her out of the kitchen.
With his sleeves rolled up, he turned to Chen Ce Bai and joked:
"You've never had a meal made by Qiu before, have you? Let me give you some advice—don't. If no one's looking after her, she'll live off synthetic meal packs for life. Even the finest organic ingredients turn to garbage in her hands."
Qiu Yu swore—that was the most mortifying moment of her life, bar none.
Even if her marriage with Chen Ce Bai was more of a formality, Pei Xi had totally crossed the line. An outsider might've thought they were the real couple.
Her heart skipped a beat, scalp tingling. She was terrified Chen Ce Bai might blow up at him.
But… she'd overestimated how much he cared.
Chen Ce Bai had no visible reaction.
His face, always cool and sharp, remained blank. He stared into space, pupils slowly moving—no doubt scrolling through data in his implant.
After a few seconds, he simply gave a noncommittal "Mm."
Qiu Yu felt a wave of relief—but also a strange discomfort.
He was her husband, yet he hadn't cared at all about another man crossing boundaries. That could only mean one thing: he felt nothing for her.
Well, he'd always been like this—cold, reserved, utterly untouchable.
Even at home, his appearance was impeccable. Shirt always buttoned to the top, sleeves perfectly symmetrical, never so much as a loosened collar.
She had never once seen him undo the top two buttons of his shirt.
He was meticulous, always keeping his distance—as if showing even the tiniest trace of vulnerability would be unacceptable.
He had built a fortress around himself, and she wasn't allowed inside.
After dinner, Qiu Yu threw on her jacket and walked Pei Xi to the door.
Back home, she showered and was about to go to bed when Chen Ce Bai suddenly grabbed her wrist.
Her heart jumped.
She didn't know what she was feeling—conflicted, hopeful, nervous.
Part of her wanted him to question her about Pei Xi.
Another part didn't want him to say a single word.
She had no idea what expression she was wearing.
But Chen Ce Bai didn't say anything.
Maybe he never intended to.
Instead, he tilted her chin up, fingers tangling in her damp hair, and kissed her.
She remembered vividly—his breath was ice cold.
Since the 2050s, strange genetic disorders had become increasingly common. It was possible Chen Ce Bai carried a rare gene that caused his body temperature to drop when emotionally charged.
That night stayed with her—not just because of the awkward self-delusion she'd suffered, but because his body had felt inhumanly cold.
Qiu Yu ran warm by nature.
Their temperature contrast was so stark it brought tears to her eyes.
His breath was cold. His gaze was cold. Even the kiss—his saliva—was cold.
It was like a serpent, frigid and vicious, winding itself around her, leeching away her life.
And yet… for the first time, she saw something sharp and alive in his eyes: a clear, undeniable hunger.
For the first time ever, he looked moved. Veins bulged across his forehead, down his neck, along his arms.
She had thought that moment would change everything between them.
Instead, he left the city the next morning—for a business trip to California.
If she hadn't noticed his absence for two days, she wouldn't even have known he'd gone.
So that hunger from the night before?
Not jealousy. Not passion.
Just a man relieving stress before catching a flight.
Like they'd said when they reunited: in their marriage, partnership outweighed love.
Even physical intimacy was a form of collaboration.
No one gets jealous over a coworker's opposite-sex friend.
Her fluster, her guilt, her tension, her foolish little hopes... all of it had been in her own head.
After that night, she stopped feeling self-conscious about Pei Xi's closeness.
They were just friends.
Let people think what they wanted.
Qiu Yu tucked the pistol into her waistband and shut the trunk. "In this weather? Of course I'm sweating. It's over thirty degrees, even at night. Unlike you…"
Before Qiu Yu could finish her sentence, she froze.
That feeling of being watched—it returned.
Only this time, the gaze was colder, darker… laced with agitation.
"He" was staring—not at her, but at Pei Xi's hand resting on her shoulder—as if he wanted to rip the arm clean off.
Even more terrifying was that she could feel the weight of the gaze.
The longer "he" stared, the heavier it became—icy, oppressive, like cold steel pressing against her neck and shoulder. Her skin prickled and went numb under the weight of it.
It felt like a dead man's hand had gripped the back of her neck.
Every hair on her body stood on end, and her body temperature plunged.
It was a suffocating summer evening, hot and humid, but she broke out in a clammy cold sweat.
Based on her past experiences, that invasive, suffocating gaze would usually disappear quickly.
But not this time.
Even after she and Pei Xi walked into the restaurant, the watcher's stare remained, locked on her with a ruthless persistence.
The patch of skin on her shoulder was completely numb now.
She reached up to touch it—only to flinch from a stabbing pain, like being pricked with a dozen needles.
This wasn't her imagination.
Could a person's gaze really have weight?
What kind of absurd thought was that?
Qiu Yu pressed a hand to her forehead, unsettled, her thoughts spiraling.
Was she losing her mind?
Had she actually seen a ghost?
Or worse—was her soul somehow entangled with someone's gaze on a quantum level?
Just then, Pei Xi flagged down a waiter and said with a warm smile,
"Could you turn the temperature up a little? My friend seems a bit cold."
"Of course, sir," the waiter replied.
And maybe it was just her imagination—but the second Pei Xi asked the waiter that, the watcher's gaze turned even colder.
There was a new edge to it now: something like mockery… and disdain.
Qiu Yu didn't know how to describe it.
It was almost like… like the watcher was mocking her for cheating.
But—cheating?! On what grounds?!
Even if she was cheating, what business was it of some peeping creep?
Qiu Yu, normally calm and collected, actually felt a spike of irritation.
She wanted to curse someone out.
"Qiu? Qiu?"
Pei Xi's voice pulled her back.
She responded with effort, "…Yeah, I'm here."
"You've been really distracted. Still thinking about the interview?" he asked gently.
"Don't dwell on it. The company called it off for a reason—it's probably been moved up to another level. Never question the company's decisions. You know what happens when people do."
Qiu Yu was losing her mind.
Right after Pei Xi said that, she suddenly heard it—
A soft, cold laugh.
It wasn't Pei Xi.
It was distant yet terrifyingly close—as if someone had leaned in and laughed right next to her ear.
It sent an electric jolt straight to the top of her skull.
What was worse—she could feel the watcher's breath as they laughed.
Short. Damp. Icy.
It brushed past her earlobe, making her whole body shudder.
She had tried to explain the earlier experiences—maybe it was some kind of sensory hallucination, some glitch in her neural interface, something that science could one day explain.
But this?
This was ghost territory.
Qiu Yu clenched her fists, trying to suppress the full-body shiver crawling over her skin.
"…I understand," she said.
Pei Xi suddenly fell silent.
He tilted his head slightly and looked at her, really looked.
And the watcher… was watching her too.
One gaze—Pei Xi's—was real, right in front of her.
The other… was unknowable.
Directionless. Faceless. Shadowed in something deeply inhuman.
Qiu Yu felt like her scalp was tightening, her nerves pulled taut.
Then Pei Xi asked slowly, his voice low:
"Qiu… are you upset today because of Chen Ce Bai?"