Chapter 95: Love or Overtime

Although he was grumbling inwardly, seeing the woman in his arms with reddened eyes, her delicate eyeliner nearly ruined by the teardrops hanging at the corners, Wen Nan let out a gentle sigh. He lifted his arm from her shoulders and softly stroked her silky hair.

As his fingers brushed through her hair, a faint scent of freesia lingered in the air, drifting quietly into Wen Nan's nostrils. That familiar, intoxicating fragrance from her shampoo, mingling with the dim ambiance of the cinema, left Wen Nan’s mind somewhat dazed.

He lowered his gaze to the woman leaning against his chest, her exquisite face, and spoke softly, “Why are you so silly? It’s just a movie—it isn’t real.”

Hearing this, Irene Guan tilted her head slightly, looking up at Wen Nan from below, her curled lashes blinking gently.

From this angle, she had none of the coldness or aloofness of the social elite who sits in the president’s chair in her office. The light from the cinema screen reflected in her glass-like pupils, making her look like a timid and gentle fawn in the woods.

Entranced, Wen Nan leaned down and softly kissed her slightly parted lips.

The next moment, the subtitles on the screen finally ended, but the image of the movie’s male lead appeared again.

Noticing the change on the screen, Irene Guan’s lashes quivered. Suddenly, she raised her hand and pressed her soft, cool palm against Wen Nan’s cheek, pushing him away with a bit of force.

“There’s more.”

Her restrained voice couldn’t conceal her delight.

Her gaze locked onto the movie screen once again, eyes wide and unblinking.

Wen Nan, pushed away mercilessly, lifted his head and looked at the back of the male lead on the screen, his eyes full of complaint.

Is it ever going to end?

One post-credits scene was enough, but after the credits, they had to show a second?

Wen Nan felt indignant—this was a romance game, and he was the only player here. The target he’d chosen to pursue should have her attention completely fixed on him, shouldn’t she? Why did it seem that right now, all she cared about was the man on the screen?

He, a bronze player with maxed-out charm, was sitting right next to Irene Guan, and still couldn’t compete with that two-dimensional paper man on the screen?

He’d spent his own money, a hefty sum of 444 gold coins from his player account, to buy these movie tickets. Even with the main storyline so tight, he’d broken through all sorts of obstacles to make time for this date, deliberately bringing his target here.

And what happened?

Wen Nan wanted a date, but the woman beside him was completely absorbed in the film, her mind solely focused on the plot?

So she really just came to see a movie?

Wasn’t this president being a little unprofessional?

You’re the target of a romance game—shouldn’t your main job be revolving around the player?

One question after another popped up in Wen Nan’s mind.

But soon, Wen Nan realized the issue—

The system had reminded him before: paying for the movie date wasn’t part of the main mission for this instance, nor a side mission, and certainly not a hidden plot. It was purely Wen Nan’s own personal player action.

So, in a sense, Irene Guan didn’t need to maintain her ‘super cold but soft-hearted female president’ persona, nor give Wen Nan much attention right now.

She was off duty. Which employee would want to stick around their boss after work?

No matter how charming this boss was, perhaps he really couldn’t compete with the male lead of a drama she was interested in.

Understanding this, Wen Nan felt relieved.

Yet right after, he felt even more like a fool.

“I’m sorry…”

Wen Nan was deep in thought, when suddenly Irene Guan’s soft apology reached his ears.

He gathered his thoughts, a bit taken aback. “Hm?”

Irene Guan sat up straight, blinking hard to dispel the tears in her eyes, then smiled shyly. “I’ve made a fool of myself—I’m actually this sentimental and childish in private.”

Wen Nan wanted to say he already knew; when he activated [Mind Reading], he’d heard it all clearly.

But he simply smiled calmly. “Not at all. You’re more real, more vivid this way.”

As he spoke, Wen Nan propped himself up, sitting shoulder to shoulder with Irene Guan.

The flattened couple’s seat was only good for lying down, not sitting. Irene Guan, forced to curl her legs and bend forward, pressed her soft chest against her knees, slightly misshapen by the lack of space.

She wrapped one arm around her chest, rested her elbow on her knee, and propped her chin in her palm. There was a casual ease in her expression as she turned to Wen Nan, her smile lighting up her eyes.

Wen Nan was captivated. He lifted his hand and traced her curved eye corner with his fingertip, then gently stroked her cheek, then her ear, finally pinching her small earlobe tenderly.

Irene Guan let him do these intimate gestures, ones only lovers would share, even tilting her head toward his palm like a cat seeking affection.

Wen Nan’s hand paused.

Irene Guan pressed her soft lips to his palm and left a gentle kiss.

This was Irene Guan, stripped of her president’s identity, responding to Wen Nan’s closeness in her most original form, expressing her love.

Like a shell opening its hard exterior to reveal tender, snowy flesh within, making Wen Nan unable to resist reaching out to touch.

Thinking thus, Wen Nan leaned forward, wanting to kiss her, to wrap his arm around her waist, pressing her against the seat, to do things meant only for the corners where no one could see.

Yet just as his lips were about to touch hers, Irene Guan suddenly turned back to the screen.

The image froze on the end of the second post-credits scene, showing the male lead with his back to the audience, head lifted, staring at the towering wall before him, seemingly impossible to surmount.

Irene Guan stared quietly at that image, once again falling silent.

“What’s wrong?” Wen Nan asked.

Irene Guan shook her head, forcing a smile. “It’s nothing.”

Yet at the same time, Wen Nan heard a soft voice in his mind—

‘Is this world… truly real?’

‘Does the world inside… really exist?’

Hearing such questions, Wen Nan’s throat bobbed.

After a moment’s thought, he gazed into Irene Guan’s eyes and asked her seriously, “If I wanted to take you away, would you go with me to the ends of the world?”

This time, the answer Wen Nan received was entirely unexpected.

Thanks to Sui Feng 2024 for the reward~

Thanks to all the generous sponsors for their votes~~

Regarding a certain setting about copy fragments, when I showed the draft to a friend, he asked something, and I realized I should clarify it for the readers—

If the skill is copied, it can ignore time limits and become permanent. But Wen Nan chose an unconventional path and copied the rune itself. The rune branded onto Yu Shu Jun is permanent, will never disappear, and always remains at the highest gold level.

Wen Nan copied the rune itself, not the [generate rune] skill (there’s no such skill for him to copy), so now he can’t just control any female ghost he encounters…

The rune on Yu Shu Jun has some details that might seem confusing now; it’s a foreshadowing about the staff fragments, which ties into the main plot and can’t be discussed yet. It will gradually unfold as the story progresses.

(End of this chapter)