Mingzhe moved through the morning with the practiced, fluid grace of someone who had spent eons in bodies both mortal and divine. Even in a simple silk robe, his presence made the high-end apartment look like a mere backdrop. He didn't bother with the complex kitchen gadgets; instead, he prepared a simple bowl of congee, the steam rising to dampen his long lashes.
"Yize," Mingzhe said, his voice a soft melody in the quiet room. "You mentioned that hubby designed this world as a 'low difficulty' experience for me. A peaceful campus life."
[Correct, Host,] the fluffy ball bobbed, still clutching its tiny holographic dumbbells. [He wanted you to be pampered by the environment. To have nothing to worry about but midterms and which friends should you choose.]
Mingzhe stirred his congee, a shadow of a smile playing on his lips. "And yet, he forgot that I am me. If he is here, there is no such thing as a 'low difficulty' world. Because I will always find the sharpest edge of his soul and walk right toward it."
He looked at the digital reflection of the greenhouse on his tablet. "Don't you see this? Although he looks like he's lonely and a bit introverted, he didn't hesitate to design a good life for himself" Mingzhe smirks a bit.
Don't blame Mingzhe. After seeing him yesterday, he shed all carefullness and only wanted to know everything about the other person. He couldn't help it.
But, Yize have different opinions. [Host, Master is only a small fraction of a bigger soul. And the body is what the world consciousness birthed. He can't choose where he landed except when some things happened, like a deal for example.]
Mingzhe's heart thumped. Right, no matter how powerful Muchen is, he can't possibly went and invade all he wants. He might be a powerful figure, but the worlds also have their own security guards that checks the balance of the world.
[Host, if you ignore the 'Perfect Student' task and dive into his business, the World Consciousness will—]
"I'm not ignoring it, Yize," Mingzhe interrupted gently, picking up a spoon.
He remembers last night chaos and disturbance. It was such a shock Yize was all puff out like a ball of cotton candy.
Back to last night.
"Yize," Mingzhe said, his voice cutting through the silence. "Yesterday in the greenhouse, when my control slipped... the air felt heavy. Tell me about this world's consciousness. How sensitive is it?"
The system flickered into view, its glow pulsing rhythmically.
[Host, this world is a 'High-Stability Linear Realm.'] Yize's voice took on a more technical, serious tone. [The world consciousness acts like an immune system. It doesn't have a personality, but it has a 'baseline.' It monitors thermal energy, gravitational constants, and most importantly-soul density.]
"Soul density?" Mingzhe echoed, leaning back.
[Yes. You and Master are 'External Anomalies.' Your souls carry the weight of billions of years. When you feel intense emotion, your soul 'leaks' power into the environment. To the world consciousness, that looks like a localized tear in the fabric of space and time. If you exceed the threshold, the world will attempt to 'format' the area. Usually via localized natural disasters or, in extreme cases, erasing the anomaly from the timeline.]
Mingzhe sighed, tracing the rim of his tea cup. "So, if I hug him too hard and feel too much joy, I might accidentally trigger a thunderstorm inside his office?" What kinda punishment is that? It's even more illogical than when they have divine tribulation.
[Precisely. Or a localized earthquake. Please refrain from excessive pining for the safety of the local infrastructure.] Yize flips in the air, conjuring a nice arc (He thought he does eventho he doesn't have a suitable physical body).
Author's note: I do that all the time except now that I'm getting older, my waist has been betraying me lol
Mingzhe dismissed the warning with a wave of his hand. He had navigated higher-stakes worlds than this. He pulled his laptop onto the table.
Mingzhe sat cross-legged on the rug in the living room, the laptop placed on the low table in front of him. His hair was still slightly damp from the shower earlier, the dark strands falling messily around his face. A cup of tea sat nearby, long forgotten and now completely cold.
Across the room, Yize floated lazily in the air, spinning upside down like a bored orange cat who had discovered gravity was stupid.
The system watched Mingzhe stare at the screen with the intense concentration of someone trying to interrogate the internet itself. His concentration started from being a very competent student.
[Host has been reading the same paragraph for eight minutes.]
Mingzhe didn't look up. Instead, he tapped lightly on his chin, eyes reflected a file that Yize had taken out earlier.
"From what I know, names carry weight." He was unconvinced he couldn't find more informations about the professor.
[Host typed the name into six search engines. Host even went as far as checking through this system.] Yize snorted smugly. He flips a bit in the air then floated closer towards Mingzhe.
"Oh you...you've been talking non stop ever since the field trip. You know verification is important." They have confirmed that Professor Muchen is the Master but his current identity is superficial.
[Host also opened three academic databases.] Yize chimed in like a little dreamcatcher that keep bumping into each other. He has always been a noisy person. Perhaps because his sister had more or less being an influence for the silly guy.
"My, shut it. Redundancy is responsible behavior according to you too." Now, his voice carried a bit of frustrations.
Yize rotated slowly in the air. If he has a pair of wings, he can probably fly around like a parrot and repeat some words nonstop [Host is acting suspicious.]
Mingzhe sighed faintly and leaned back against the couch. "I'm investigating." On the screen was a perfectly normal academic profile.
Mu Chen
Associate Professor – Department of Botany
Age: 29
Research Focus: drought-resistant plant species, orchid hybridization, ecological stress adaptation.
There was a photograph attached.
The same calm expression. The same dark hair falling slightly across his forehead. The same glasses. Exactly the man from the greenhouse. Mingzhe stared at the picture for a long moment. "…Twenty-nine."
[Biologically accurate for this world. Host, I told you his body and his soul is currently a native in this universe. He's not an anomaly for the time being.]
"That means he reincarnated roughly thirty years ago. Perhaps been here longer though."
[Correct.]
Mingzhe tapped the table thoughtfully."Yet the fragment remained dormant until three weeks ago."
[Which coincides with Host's arrival.] They arrived three weeks ago, went from walking like headless chicken in the campus to meeting the Master in the beginning. It's a lot of things. Exams and depressing souls in between. [This system is so tired], Yize mumbled in his artificial heart.
Mingzhe nodded confidently, his bangs dancing softly with his movement "Of course it does." Yize floated closer and peeked at the screen. The profile continued with a very respectable academic résumé.
Several research publications. Two international conferences. A few grants. All very clean and very respectable. Such an ordinary lifestyle. And that was precisely the problem. Mingzhe narrowed his eyes. "Don't you think this is a bit too neat?"
[Most humans consider this normal.]
"Not for him though. If you considered it from our perspective, this is not his doing" Mingzhe frowned. This is too clean. Nobody is this perfect. "Yize, do you think he have some kind of illness? Like OCD or something?"
Yize tilted slightly. It's over, the Host has been broken. He no longer thinks his own husband is normal. [Please clarify, Host. If you don't I might be overthinking.]
Mingzhe folded his arms."The man you saw in the greenhouse today is someone who once stabilized 30 thousand collapsing universes and handling massive cases which each of them carried mindblowing problems" He gestured vaguely at the screen.
"And now I'm supposed to believe his entire life consists of watering plants and writing research papers." Yize processed that statement.
[Well, he's now a normal soul. Moreover, he doesn't remembers anything from the past. He doesn't even know he's a God. But, it's statistically unlikely for him to ditch aside his habits from billions of years.]
"Exactly." Mingzhe leaned forward again and cracked his knuckles lightly. "Let's dig deeper." The laptop screen flickered as Yize slipped halfway into the digital system like a curious ghost squeezing into a machine. [Accessing extended records.] Lines of data began sliding across the screen.
University personnel databases.
Government identity registries.
Corporate filings.
Patent registrations.
Investment records.
Mingzhe watched quietly while sipping his tea and immediately making a face. His nose all scrunched up like a squirrel."....Cold." But he can't spit it out... [Host forgot to drink it.] "Yes, thank you for the reminder." Several seconds passed while the system scanned.
Then suddenly Yize froze. The projection flickered once. Then twice. Mingzhe noticed immediately and went to knock on the screen."…What did you find?"
Yize slowly turned toward him. [Host.] His mechanical eyes gleamed like a red ruby at this time.
"That tone usually means something entertaining." Mingzhe chuckled nervously. Yize is entertained but for some reason Mingzhe felt a bit cold all of a sudden.
The screen changed. A new file opened.
MU CHEN – CORPORATE HOLDINGS
Mingzhe leaned closer."...Well." That escalated quickly. Both of them feels like they're the cannon fodders being slapped by reality at this time. The list on the screen began scrolling.
• Chen Botanical Technologies Ltd.
• Verdant Biotech Research Group
• Green Axis Agricultural Systems
• Orchid Gene Research Institute
Mingzhe blinked."... He's running biotech companies?" Like, for real?
Yize scratch his fluffy body [Multiple. While teaching university classes] But, their botany department still doesn't have that many students.
"That sounds really exhausting."
Then, more financial summaries appeared. Mingzhe thought his eyes almost blinded by the lists that kept coming out from the database that Yize had mined.
Investment structures.
Research patents.
Laboratory networks.
What had looked like a quiet academic career was actually the public face of a fairly powerful biotech business network. Mingzhe's eyes moved slowly across the screen."…Ah." That was starting to feel familiar. Many of the patents focused on large-scale ecological restoration technologies.
Soil recovery systems.
Climate-resistant crops.
Advanced plant adaptation techniques designed to stabilize ecosystems in damaged environments.
Mingzhe rested his chin on his hand."Of course." He smiles softly. He recognized all of these.
His husband, his anchor, his one and only have never change. He is just a secretive little hamster. Such harmless existence.
Yize tilted. [Host appears unsurprised.] Which means Mingzhe knows about 99.99% of what Muchen was doing and what his works are.
Mingzhe's eyes crinkling. It turns to crescent, still looking so proud."He's still fixing worlds."
[Please clarify once again, this system is a bit of an old version and haven't upgraded. I can't read thoughts yet.]
Mingzhe gestured at the screen."These technologies repair environmental collapse." He leaned back slightly."Different scale but absolutely the same instinct." Even stripped of memories. Even living a human life. Muchen was still doing what he had always done. Repair the fragile parts of existence.
Yize continued scrolling through the data.
Then something else appeared.
Property records.
Real estate investments.
Corporate assets.
Mingzhe glanced at them casually at first. Then he suddenly leaned forward again.
"…Wait."
"Scroll back."
Yize obeyed.
The screen zoomed in on one particular property entry.
Chen Holdings – Residential Property
Address.
Coordinates.
Ownership structure.
Mingzhe stared at the address. Then slowly turned his head toward the massive window wall of the apartment..Then back to the screen. "…That's this building."
[Correct.]
"He owns the building before."
[Correct.]
"Which means..."
[Host's residence technically belongs to Master's company and then for some reason it suddenly change to Host's name.]
A long silence followed. Mingzhe rubbed his forehead. Just...why and how?
"So even when he doesn't remember me..."
He gestured vaguely around the luxurious apartment. "…he's still housing me." Yize rotated proudly.
[Master's instincts remain excellent. Do we investigate how and why this happened? Does Host wanna know when was the property changes owner?]
Mingzhe snorted."That's one way to describe it. But, no. Let's see something else. I'll ask him in the future"
More data continued appearing.
Research labs.
Greenhouses.
Investment partnerships.
The quiet botany professor had built a surprisingly influential scientific business network. And yet he still personally watered seedlings in a campus greenhouse. Mingzhe's expression softened slightly. "...He really hasn't changed at all, still the same man I've been loving all these times."
[Meaning?]Yize is a bit of an airhead.
"He always liked working directly with living things." Plants, soil and growth. Even when he governed enormous systems of worlds, he had always kept gardens. And that was dozens of them. They even have a garden at their home. His father once teases him about it and he smiles, saying that watching life evolving is one of his motivation to continue going.
Entire floating landscapes once. Mingzhe stared quietly at the screen. Then Yize opened another file.
Daily Activity Pattern – Mu Chen
The system had clearly crossed into extremely nosy territory, however considering that this was Yize, it seems acceptable. Mingzhe read the schedule carefully.
Morning: greenhouse maintenance.
Late morning: lectures.
Afternoon: research lab work.
Evening: occasional corporate meetings.
Night: data analysis and writing.
Mingzhe's gaze moved slowly down the list. Then stopped.
Lunch.
12:20 PM.
Location: greenhouse office.
He leaned back slowly. The room fell quiet. Yize noticed the subtle change in Mingzhe's expression immediately. [Host is planning something entertaining.] It's a new expression on that gorgeous face. A bit naughty and also lively.
"I'm considering an opportunity." Mingzhe closed the laptop with a quiet click. "...Lunch." Yize hovered closer. [Host intends to stalk and intercept Master.] Yize is very confident is his analysis.
Mingzhe laughed out loud like a little sunshine "That word sounds aggressive." But he couldn't help giggling a bit.
[Host intends to appear coincidentally.]
"Yes."
[While fully aware of Master's schedule.]
"Preparation is not stalking. It's a necessary steps to be a student that can graduate with flying colours."
Yize spun smugly. He won't poke its Host's little bubble of pretention. [ But, Host memorized schedule in under three minutes.] He still wanna tease.
"We called that as efficiency."
Yize wanna mention how Mingzhe doesn't even do the same with his studies before but he shut his mouth. It's been a long time since Mingzhe had met his partner. He'll let Mingzhe be happy with this progress. He's a very kind system okay.
The city lights glittered outside the window.
Mingzhe stood slowly and stretched.
Three weeks.
Three weeks of searching through an entire world. And now the person he had waited for across billions of years was twenty minutes away on campus... quietly running a greenhouse. The absurdity of it made him laugh softly. Muchen is such an adorable person. He just felt like his heart had fallen in love more."…Tomorrow." Yize floated beside him.
[Host will visit greenhouse, right?] The white eyebrows wriggled playfully.
"Yes." Mingzhe allowed him to be nosy.
[At lunchtime.]
"Yes."
[To "coincidentally" meet Master.]
Mingzhe walked toward the bedroom.
"Exactly."
Yize followed behind like a floating detective who had already solved the case.
[Host.]
"What?"
[You are smiling.] A genuine smile.
Mingzhe paused at the doorway. His expression softened slightly, the patience of someone who had waited longer than time itself."Of course I am." He glanced once more toward the glowing city outside. Then murmured quietly. "After billions of years together...I know his habits better than he knows himself."
Yize processed that statement for a moment. Then the system updated the mission log.
Tomorrow's objective: Lunch.
Mingzhe chuckled and turned off the lights.
"Lunch."
Back to present.
Mingzhe exhaled a breath of hot air. His dampened lashes fluttered like a butterfly wings.
Yize that floated in the air watched his wrinkled brows. [Does Host intend to interfere with the way of the world? This is a very risky actions to do.] Their task is a fixed one. But, now Mingzhe wanted to collect the soul fragments too. Yize can't guarantee a safe journey for the three of them.
How could Mingzhe not? The more he look at this world line, the more sure he is of what he has to do. Mu Chen wanted him to finish his task, but he also wanted to collect all his soul fragments. He wanted to know what happened to him before he scattered all his souls, disregarding even their promises of him coming back safe and sound to his spouse. He couldn't waste even a second.
......
The greenhouse was even quieter the day after the field trip. The heavy, humid air hung still over the rows of tropical flora, and the only sound was the rhythmic shloop-shloop of a nutrient pump somewhere in the back.
Muchen was bent over a workstation, his back to the door. He wasn't wearing his lab coat today - just a charcoal grey sweater with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, revealing forearms that looked surprisingly sturdy for a man who spent his life in a glass box.
The bell at the entrance gave a tiny, melodic chime.
Muchen didn't turn around. He just sighed, the sound echoing off the glass. "If you're here about the lost-and-found, I already told the campus security: no one left a backpack yesterday. Now, please, I have work to do."
Looks like students coming unannounced on the pretext of forgetting things has happened multiple times before.
"I actually didn't lose anything," a voice drifted through the foliage. It was soft, carrying a natural cadence that felt like a calm stream. "Unless you count my focus during my morning lecture. I kept thinking about that Monstera deliciosa in the corner. I think its soil is a bit too packed on the left side."
Muchen stiffened. He knew that voice. It was the one that had made his skin prickle during the tour - the student who stood a bit too still, looked a bit too closely, and seemed to possess a face that didn't belong in a crowded university hallway.
He turned slowly, adjusting his glasses. His expression almost cracked at the visual attacks the moment he turned around.
Mingzhe was standing there, framed by a hanging curtain of ivy. He looked breathtakingly out of place - too graceful for the dirt-streaked floor, wearing a soft cream knit that looked far too expensive for a student budget.
"You," Muchen said, his voice a bit defensive. "The Literature student. Mingzhe, right?"
"You have a wonderful memory, Professor," Mingzhe replied, walking forward with a slow, deliberate grace. He didn't rush but he moved like he was part of the environment.
"I hope I'm not intruding. I know you said the greenhouse is for research, but I find it difficult to stay away from all these plants."
Muchen frowned, crossing his arms. "This isn't a park, Student Mingzhe. It's a laboratory. If you like plants, go to the campus botanical garden near the South Gate."
My, would you look at that? Mingzhe has a soft shell but don't be fooled by that appearance. Apparently, he held grudges. Yize that is currently floating on top of Mingzhe's head pretending to be a flower crown light dozens of rows of candles for his Master's future.
Mingzhe stopped a few feet away, his expression gentle, almost apologetic. "I've been there. It's lovely, but it feels a bit too curated and public. This place feels like it's actually breathing. Besides," he tilted his head, a small, knowing smile touching his lips, "I'm a transfer student. Everything is a bit loud and overwhelming right now. I heard you're new here too. I thought perhaps we shared a preference for the quiet and slow pace."
Muchen felt a sharp pang of something he couldn't name. New. That was a polite way of putting it. Muchen wasn't just "new"; he was "relocated." He was a man with no history on this campus, just a file and a set of orders. To hear this beautiful, strange student claim a similarity felt... disarming.
"I'm here to work, not to find comfort," Muchen muttered, though his grip on his own arms loosened. "And I'm a Professor. You're a student. The 'similarities' end there."
"Of course," Mingzhe said softly. He didn't push. He just walked over to a nearby bench and set down a small, insulated carrier. "I won't disturb your research. I just wanted to eat my lunch somewhere that didn't smell like floor wax. Would you mind? I'll be as quiet as a sprout."
Muchen opened his mouth to say yes, I mind, get out, but then he saw what Mingzhe was pulling out. It wasn't the greasy, plastic-wrapped trash from the cafeteria. It was a set of delicate containers that smelled faintly of jasmine tea and steamed greens.
"Is that... home-cooked?" Muchen asked before he could stop himself. Damn it, he blurted it out without thinking.
Mingzhe looked up, his eyes sparkling with a hint of warmth. "I used to own a small café before I moved here. Old habits die hard. I find that when everything else is chaotic, a proper meal is the only thing that keeps the soul warm up."
Muchen looked at his own lunch-a crushed energy bar and a lukewarm bottle of water. He felt a sudden, sharp spike of annoyance at his own life.
"Fine," Muchen grumbled, turning back to his plants. "Stay. But don't touch the Asplenium. And for the love of-if you spill soup on the data sheets, I'm banning you for life."
"I wouldn't dream of it," Mingzhe whispered, his voice like silk.
Mingzhe sat quietly, eating with a refined elegance that made Muchen feel like a caveman. Every few minutes, Muchen would steal a glance over his shoulder. He expected the student to be on his phone, or whispering, or staring.
But Mingzhe was just... looking at the plants. Not like a tourist, but like he was listening to them. The annoying thing is he still looks so good looking doing nothing.
[Host,] Yize's voice flickered in Mingzhe's mind. [Master's heart rate has dropped by 10 BPM. He's pretending to check the pH levels, but he's actually watching the way you hold your chopsticks.]
Mingzhe didn't even blink. He took a slow sip of his tea. Let him watch. At least it can help him carved my face into his vision so that he won't forget and kept remembering.
[The world line is tightening, Host,] Yize warned out of the blue. His white fluffy fur is now dyed a bit red. [Master is here because this world is dying. His several projects are the only thing stopping the desertification of the northern provinces. If he leaves, or if he's 'distracted' by a certain Literature student, the world concsiousness will intervene. It won't let its favourite healer being distracted.]
The northern provinces's lands are plagued with drought. The plants are dying. No new sprouts, no rains and no oasis, even. Global warming has always been a reason for the destruction of the ecosystems.
It won't have a choice, Mingzhe thought back, his gaze drifting to Muchen's tired, hunched shoulders. It turned my husband into a healer, ignoring his well being. I'm just here to remind the professor that it used to be a man.
How could he just watched the world consciousness sucking away his hubby's power without even his hubby knowing it? World consciousness is just making Muchen feels like he has responsibilities for things that he can control. Since he's a genius with many successful researches of plants, the world consciousness is using the voice of the people to put pressures on him.
Even now, there are a lot of people especially from the northern provinces crying and begging for Professor Muchen to help reviving the land. At this time, Muchen is just a mortal. How dare it forces his beloved like this...
He could guess more or less the deal between both parties, but now with him here, let's see if the deal won't be cut off!
"Professor?" Mingzhe called out softly.
Muchen jumped, nearly dropping a pipette. "What? What is it?"
"You're over-watering that one," Mingzhe said, pointing to a small succulent. "Its leaves are already starting to swell. It doesn't need more help, it just needs to be left alone in the sun for a bit."
Muchen looked at the plant, then at Mingzhe. He felt a surge of irrational irritation, mostly because the student was right. "I know how to do my job, Student Mingzhe." He pursed his lips, annoyed.
"I know you do," Mingzhe replied, his voice incredibly tender. "I'm just saying... even the strongest things need a break sometimes."
The greenhouse went silent. Muchen stared at him, his pulse thrumming in his ears. For a second, he felt like this boy was looking straight through his skin, past the professor labels, and seeing the exhausted, lonely man underneath.
"You're a very strange student," Muchen whispered, pursing his lips in agitation. He has been feeling like this since yesterday. It made his calm life suddenly became a bit chaotic. The tugs he feels, the feeling of his heart. All of these started after the new transfer students appeared. But he always ignored it before. Today though....
"And you're a very dedicated Professor," Mingzhe smiled, standing up and packing his things. "I'll see you tomorrow, Muchen. Try to get some sun yourself. You're looking a bit wilted and pale."
Before Muchen could process the use of his name without a title, Mingzhe was gone, leaving behind only the faint scent of jasmine and a very confused, very flustered botanist.
Muchen stood there for several seconds after the door chimed shut. The greenhouse slowly returned to its usual rhythm. The nutrient pump hummed. Leaves rustled faintly under the ventilation fans. A droplet of water slid down the wide leaf of a philodendron and fell with a soft tick against the metal tray below. But the quiet did nothing to settle the strange pressure in his chest.
He looked down at the succulent Mingzhe had pointed out. The leaves were indeed slightly swollen. "…Hmph."
Muchen set the watering can down with a bit more force than necessary. He adjusted his glasses and leaned closer to the plant, inspecting it like it had personally betrayed him in front of a junior.
"Anyone could have guessed that," he muttered under his breath. "Basic plant physiology." Yet his fingers still gently shifted the pot into a patch of sunlight.
Across the greenhouse, unseen by mortal eyes, Yize floated in the air with his fluffy body puffed up like an offended marshmallow. [Master adjusted the pot.] He sounded deeply betrayed. [Host has already achieved behavioral influence on the first encounter. This system predicts increased interference probability.] His fur puffed up even more it looks like he expands several times.
Meanwhile, outside the greenhouse, Mingzhe walked slowly along the stone path.
His steps were unhurried, hands tucked loosely in his coat pockets, expression calm as if he had merely enjoyed a peaceful lunch among plants.
But his mind was still replaying the way Muchen had looked at him. That startled heartbeat. That moment when his defenses had wavered. "…Still the same," Mingzhe murmured quietly. A breeze stirred his long hair.
Behind him, Yize zipped through the door and caught up, floating beside his shoulder like a disgruntled balloon. Mingzhe look at him.
[Host.]
"Yes?"
[Host called Master by his name.]
Mingzhe blinked innocently. "Did I?" Don't tell him Yize is drinking a spoonful of vinegar?
[Host absolutely did.]
"Well," Mingzhe said calmly, "names are meant to be used."
Yize rotated slowly in the air, clearly unconvinced.
[Master's emotional fluctuation increased by 37%. His brain activity spiked during the moment Host said his name.] His artifical legs that he just got from the system's store for customization kicks in the air. It reminds Mingzhe of that K-drama he watched before when the man giggling and kicking his legs after he recieved a cute message from his girlfriend.
"Good," Mingzhe replied without hesitation.
[Good??? GOOD??!]
"Of course."
Yize stared at him in horrified silence. The system had watched Mingzhe for a long time. It knew exactly what that tone meant. That tone meant Mingzhe had decided something.
Which meant the world line was about to suffer.
.............
That night.
The apartment lights were dim, casting long shadows across the living room. Mingzhe sat cross-legged on the rug again, laptop open on the low table. Yize hovered beside the screen like a suspicious little ghost.
[Host.]
"Yes?"
[Host met Master today.]
"Yes."
[Host intentionally destabilized Master's emotional equilibrium.] He was very confident.
Mingzhe lifted an eyebrow.
"You sounds like a dramatic concubine."
[Host used Master's personal name.]
"That is his name." He stiffled a laugh, faking a cough to not let Yize see his amused expression.
Yize puffed up again.
[This system is documenting suspicious behavior.] And its Host is suspicious!
Mingzhe ignored him completely. Yize sometimes have a brain hole inside of his head. Have you ever seen a system that changes its personality every few minutes? Now he sounds like a jealous son.
His eyes were focused on the laptop screen.
Lines of information scrolled quietly.
Financial reports.
Corporate filings.
Patent applications.
Research grants.
But this time, Mingzhe wasn't looking at the summary pages.
He was digging into the details.
The night before, they had already discovered the first surprise. The quiet greenhouse professor was secretly the controlling shareholder behind several biotech corporations. That alone had been amusing. But Mingzhe had learned something important across billions of years with Muchen.
When his husband hid something...
He hid it deep.
"Yize," Mingzhe said softly.
Yize that wanted to sulk return to a normal system. [Yes, Host.]
"Open the older corporate registry records."
The system flickered.
[Records from which year?]
"Everything."
Yize froze. This is very risky!
[That is… twenty-nine years of financial history.] Well, who cares? Anyways..
"Yes."
[Host intends to read all of it?]
Mingzhe picked up his tea.
"Yes."
Yize stared. Then sighed dramatically. He really can be an actor in a palace drama.
[This system deeply regrets developing curiosity.] Still, the files began to open. Corporate documents from years before
Muchen even appeared in the academic world.
Old investment networks.
Silent partnerships.
Quiet acquisitions.
The deeper Yize dug, the stranger it became.
Several companies had been established nearly ten years ago.
Which meant…
Muchen had begun building this network long before he ever became a university professor.
[Host…] Yize said slowly.
Mingzhe didn't look up. He heard the hesitation in Yize's tone.
"Yes?"
[Master founded his first company at age nineteen.]
Mingzhe paused. Weird.
"…Nineteen?"
[Correct.]
Yize projected a holographic timeline.
19 years old – first biotech startup.
21 – first patent approval.
23 – venture capital funding secured.
25 – research consortium established.
27 – corporate laboratory network operational.
29 – quietly accepted university professorship.
The room fell silent. Mingzhe slowly leaned back against the couch. "…He built an entire research empire before turning thirty."
Yize rotated.
[Host appears proud.]
"I am."
There was absolutely no hesitation in his voice. Have you ever seen such a genius? His husband never failed to amaze him. His wife is super lucky. En, that's right. What a lucky wife to have such a husband like Muchen.
Yize sighed.
[This system suspects Host's bias.]
Mingzhe smiled faintly. "It's not bias if it's objectively true, Yize." After all, Muchen is truly an outstanding individual among his peers. The screen continued scrolling.
Then Yize suddenly froze again.
The projection flickered. This is the same as before and Mingzhe noticed immediately.
"…You did that thing again."
[Host.]
"That tone again."
[Host should look at this.]
The screen shifted. A new document opened. It's not a company nor a patent but a contract. Mingzhe leaned forward slowly.
The header read:
Emergency Ecological Restoration Agreement
Northern Provincial Coalition
His eyes narrowed."Open it." There was anger in his soft tone. Yize hesitated for the first time. This time it doesn't want to show the contract. [Host may not enjoy this.]
"Open it." The document unfolded across the screen.
Several provincial governments.
International environmental organizations.
Agricultural coalitions.
And one name repeated throughout the agreement.
Lead Scientific Director: Mu Chen
Mingzhe read silently. The document detailed a massive ecological disaster. Northern provinces suffering extreme desertification. Crop failures and groundwater collapse. The entire regions slowly turning to dust and at the center of the proposed solution...
Muchen's research.
His plant adaptation systems.
His engineered drought-resistant species.
His soil restoration technologies.
Mingzhe's eyes moved slowly down the screen. Then he stopped. "…Yize."
[Yes.]
"What happens if this project fails?" His fingers clenched tightly. How infuriating. Remembering the visible eyebags under that beautiful orbs, Mingzhe feels like hitting someone. Yize ran the simulation instantly. The answer appeared.
Projected outcome:
• Agricultural collapse
• Mass migration
• Economic destabilization
• 8.7 million projected casualties within 20 years
The room grew very quiet. Mingzhe closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, the warmth had vanished. "…So that's the situation." Yize floated closer.[Host now understands.] He whispered softly.
"Yes."
Mingzhe's voice had become extremely calm. Too calm despite seeing such massive informations of his sweetheart.
[Master is carrying the burden of stabilizing an entire region.]
"Yes."
[The world consciousness likely guided him into this position.]
Mingzhe's fingers tapped lightly against the table. A soft rhythm. Deliberate and measured. Then he asked quietly: "Tell me something, Yize." He starts off with a question.
[Yes, Host.]
"If Muchen stops working on this project... what will the world consciousness do?"
Yize hesitated. Then answered honestly. [It will force events that push him back into it.]
"How so?"
[Public pressure, funding dependencies, political intervention or possibly disasters that increase urgency.]
Mingzhe smiled. It was a very gentle smile.
But something ancient moved quietly behind his eyes. His anger was visible. "…So it tied him down with responsibility." Yize did not reply. Because that was exactly what had happened. The world had found the best healer it could possibly get. And then chained him to a dying land.
Mingzhe leaned back slowly. His gaze drifted toward the window, where the city lights shimmered in the distance. "...Very interesting." Yize suddenly felt very nervous.
[Host.]
"Yes?"
[Host is smiling again.] Hehe, please don't kill this pitiful system. They were friends remember?
"I know."
[That is not very reassuring.] Yize's voice is very tiny, like a mosquito sound.
Mingzhe closed the laptop with a soft click. "No need to worry." Yize absolutely did not believe that. Because after lots of observation...The system knew exactly what this expression meant. It meant Mingzhe had already decided something dangerous.
Well, looks like they gonna fight the world itself. Yize silently put a fierce helmet on his head while his chubby, fluffy fingers holding a glowing red lightsaber.
And somewhere far away in the quiet greenhouse...
Professor Mu Chen sneezed suddenly for no reason at all.
He frowned and rubbed his nose.
"Is someone talking sh-... Strange."
Then he returned to watering his plants.
Completely unaware that the most terrifying variable in the universe had just finished reading his entire life story the night before morning arrived.
..........
The greenhouse door chimed again as Mingzhe stepped inside, and the sound drifted through the humid air like a small glass bell dropped into a pond. The scent of damp soil, moss, and warm leaves immediately wrapped around him, thick and alive, the kind of atmosphere that felt less like a room and more like stepping into a quiet ecosystem that had decided humans were merely tolerated guests.
Muchen did not turn around this time.
He was standing at a long stainless steel table covered in trays of seedlings, his sleeves still rolled up to his elbows as he adjusted the angle of a small grow lamp that hung above a row of fragile orchid sprouts.
The light reflected faintly against his glasses, hiding his eyes for a moment.
"I assume," he said slowly, voice dry with a layer of weary resignation, "that you did not suddenly develop a second forgotten lunch."
Mingzhe let the door close gently behind him and walked further into the greenhouse, his footsteps quiet against the slightly damp floor.
"That depends," he replied mildly. "Would you consider tea a lunch?"
Muchen finally turned.
The moment he did, his brows knit together in a tight line of suspicion that had already become familiar over the past few days.
Mingzhe stood there looking absurdly composed for someone who had wandered into a research greenhouse in the middle of the afternoon. His cream-colored sweater was replaced today by a soft charcoal cardigan, the sleeves slightly too long so that the cuffs brushed his fingers. The sunlight filtering through the glass ceiling caught in his hair, giving the dark strands a faint copper sheen.
For a brief moment, Muchen simply stared.
Then he pinched the bridge of his nose.
"…Student Mingzhe."
"Yes, Professor?"
"You have visited this greenhouse four times this week." His voice carried a hint of exhaustion.
Mingzhe tilted his head thoughtfully, as if reviewing a calendar only he could see.
"Well, I didn't count that much but maybe it's accurate?"
Muchen lowered his hand slowly.
"And every time," he continued carefully, "you claim it is purely coincidental."
Mingzhe nodded politely. He's still so well behaved. Even his hair are in place.
"Yes."
There was a long pause.
Somewhere nearby, the nutrient pump made its rhythmic shloop-shloop sound again, like the quiet breathing of the greenhouse itself.
Muchen stared at him another second before turning back to the seedlings with the heavy patience of a man who had already decided arguing was a waste of oxygen. "...Just don't touch anything," he muttered.
Above Mingzhe's head, invisible to the mortal world, Yize floated upside down in the air like a scandalized cotton cloud.
[Master has already surrendered territory HAHHAHAEHEHEH.] Once upon a time, Yize drank a vinegar at the name changed between his Host and his Master.
"Quiet," Mingzhe replied in his thoughts.
He walked further into the greenhouse and settled onto the same wooden bench he had used the previous day, placing his bag beside him before pulling out a notebook and a slim paperback novel.
From the outside, the scene looked perfectly ordinary.
A literature student studying quietly among plants.
A botany professor working at a research station.
But the emotional atmosphere between them was about as subtle as thunderclouds gathering over a calm ocean. One could see it only took a short nail to poke the paper window.
Muchen tried very hard to ignore him.
At first.
He measured nutrient solutions.
Recorded growth data.
Adjusted humidity levels for the tropical section.
Yet every few minutes his eyes would drift, almost involuntarily, toward the bench.
Mingzhe was reading.
Actually reading.
Not scrolling through a phone or whispering to friends on his phone like most students who wandered into academic spaces they technically weren't supposed to occupy. He sat with his legs crossed, one elbow resting lightly against the back of the bench while he turned pages with quiet patience. Every so often he would pause and write a note in the margin of his notebook, the pen moving in slow, elegant strokes.
The frustrating part was that he looked completely comfortable there. Like the greenhouse belonged to him.
Muchen clicked his pen shut with slightly more force than necessary.
Across the room, Yize was narrating the situation with the enthusiasm of a sports commentator.
[Master has looked at Host eight times.]
"I'm very much aware because I can see too." He sigh helplessly in his heart.
[Nine times.]
Mingzhe turned another page calmly. His several highlighters lay quietly on top of the adorable fluffy bookmark.
"Please stop counting, it's noisy."
[Twelve times.] Yize ignore the warning.
"Yize." Mingzhe felt like swatting him with the book. The system zipped upward toward the glass ceiling in dramatic surrender.
Mingzhe's life as a sophomore had quietly settled into a strange rhythm over the following days. His mornings began early, long before most students even considered leaving their dorms. He would wake while the sky was still pale and quiet, prepare breakfast with Yize, and then spend an hour reviewing lecture materials while the city slowly came to life beyond his apartment windows.
University life itself was almost charming in its simplicity. Lectures where professors debated literary symbolism with the seriousness of military strategy. Classmates who panicked about midterms like they were approaching natural disasters. They have a long PTSD symptoms from past sudden quizzes and exams. Late-night study groups fueled by instant noodles and collective despair.
For someone who had spent billions of years navigating cosmic catastrophes and collapsing universes, the small chaos of student life felt almost... peaceful.
In Modern Comparative Literature, Mingzhe had quickly developed a reputation that hovered somewhere between admiration and mild suspicion. He answered questions easily. He wrote essays that professors occasionally reread twice, as if trying to figure out how a sophomore had managed to analyze a text with the perspective of someone who had personally lived through half the philosophies being discussed.
One afternoon, his professor paused midway through grading presentations and looked directly at him.
"Mr. Mingzhe," she said slowly, tapping her pen against the desk, "your analysis of existential isolation in post-war narratives was... unusually detailed." She probed lightly.
Mingzhe blinked politely. "Thank you, Professor." He takes it as a compliment.
She narrowed her eyes slightly.
"...How old did you say you were?"
"Twenty."
There was another long pause. "…Right."
Behind Mingzhe, Yize floated proudly like a smug balloon. [Host accidentally revealed three hundred years of philosophical observation.]
"I thought I was being restrained." He always accepted compliments and won't be modest.
[Host was not.]
Despite his academic efficiency, however, there was one part of Mingzhe's daily routine that had begun to draw increasing attention.
The greenhouse.
At first it had been occasional visits.
Then it became regular.
Soon enough, the small circle of students who shared classes with Mingzhe began noticing. One afternoon in the courtyard, a classmate leaned across the lunch table with the kind of conspiratorial grin that only university gossip could produce. "Hey," he said, lowering his voice dramatically. "Is it true you're hanging around the science greenhouse every day?"
Mingzhe looked up from his tea. "I enjoy plants." He won't tell these puppies what he had been up to.
The table collectively squinted at him.
"…Bro."
"What?"
"That greenhouse is not open to random literature majors."
Mingzhe considered that for a moment.
"Well," he said thoughtfully, "the professor has not physically removed me yet."
Someone showed him his fist. They wanna be there too, okay! They wanna see the handsome professor again!
Across campus at that exact moment, Muchen was standing in the greenhouse staring at the door like a man waiting for an inevitable natural disaster. Because despite all his attempts at professional distance...
Despite reminding himself repeatedly that Mingzhe was simply a student...The quiet presence had begun to alter the atmosphere of his daily routine. Lunch breaks were no longer silent. The greenhouse felt less empty. And worst of all...He had begun to subconsciously listen for the sound of that small door chime.
Back at the courtyard table, Yize floated beside Mingzhe and whispered in his mind:
[Host has successfully infiltrated Master's daily routine.] Their slow tactics work !!
Mingzhe took a slow sip of tea.
"That sounds so sinister when you say it."
[It is sinister. Don't pretend it isn't!]
"It's called companionship, you heartless fluff."
[Master does not know this though so it doesn't count. Companionship needs confirmations from both parties!] He refused the refusal!
Mingzhe's gaze drifted across campus toward the distant glass roof of the greenhouse, visible between the science buildings.
His expression softened slightly.
"…He will."