Doll Survival Game - Chapter 123

Perceive “happiness”?

Yiran was not someone who had never felt happiness. He wasn’t completely incapable of sensing emotions–he just experienced them on a much shallower level than most people.

Yet, he longed for those intense emotional fluctuations, because he wanted to understand why some people behaved the way they did.

Strong emotions can drive the brain to give irrational commands to the body, sometimes even harming one’s own interests… Yiran lifted his eyes slightly–he thought of Luo Jun.

Actually, even the faintest emotions were enough for him. After all, he had spent enough time observing others that he could mimic most reactions with ease. Displaying sadness or joy in sync with others was second nature to him; sometimes, he even felt as if those reactions were truly his own.

But.

Yiran stared at the ground–when he first entered this little instance, the overwhelming pain and despair had completely engulfed him, leaving him desperate to escape, yet unable to do so…

To put it bluntly, if that forced emotion kept intensifying with daily life, clinging on for a day or two more, fusing even deeper into him… Would he also be driven to the point of wanting to escape through suicide?

After all, his desire to keep living was never strong. Maybe he really would succumb to those emotions.

Indeed, strong emotions could affect so much.

And then there was shame. Yiran didn’t look up; he merely placed his hand over his ear–his scalp tingled, his ears and face burned, and his heart started beating faster.

But what about extreme happiness?

Yiran finally looked up, his gaze falling on the magician beside him.

The magician waited quietly for Yiran to speak. When Yiran raised his head, he tilted his own lightly, his eyes boldly flickering over Yiran’s lips and neck. He asked again, “Want to try it, young master?”

Yiran knew what the magician was implying. He tilted his head and showed a faint smile. “Are you sure this will make me feel happiness?”

Nice smile. The magician resisted the urge in his hands, replying, “It doesn’t hurt to try.”

Yiran’s eyes flashed ever so slightly–forced emotions also changed along with the “plot” developments. So during this period when Ji Ming was treating Qiu Qiu well, the negative emotions he could feel had declined.

But judging from this small instance’s setup, it was impossible that things would stay good for long. There would surely be more twists, something to be the final straw that would break him… Even knowing this, Yiran didn’t have much confidence in this instance, so he decided to add a layer of insurance for himself.

Therefore.

Yiran glanced back at the direction from which he’d come–Lin Chi should have left by now.

Letting Lin Chi discover something unusual between him and Ji Ming wasn’t just about feeling “shame.”

But if this thread developed naturally, it would take time. During that in-between time… Yiran turned to the magician again: “Alright, but I need a reason.”

Let’s try it. There’s time, after all.

But extreme happiness should be even harder to obtain than pain–after all, sometimes it’s truly hard for people to feel happy.

“Reason?” The magician tilted his head at Yiran’s words, eyes curving: “Love needs no reason.”

Yiran lifted his chin, lowering his eyes to look at him. He chuckled softly and said, “Then I’ll leave it to you.”

The magician watched as Yiran turned away, then in the blink of an eye, his expression subtly shifted, his demeanor changing as well.

Qiu Qiu gazed at him, eyes bright and clear: “Ji Ming-Ge, what are you going to buy?”

Just now, Ji Ming had told Lin Chi he was taking Qiu Qiu out to buy something.

The magician’s expression shifted slightly as he hesitated, then answered, “A razor.”

…Deciding to buy one now? Then why say you needed to buy something earlier? Qiu Qiu blinked in confusion, but as his gaze landed on Ji Ming’s smooth chin, his thoughts drifted. “Don’t you already have a razor?”

“Just getting a spare.” Ji Ming replied offhandedly; he’d only pulled Qiu Qiu away to avoid anyone else following.

Qiu Qiu walked beside him, glancing at the milk tea in his hand, then at Ji Ming.

Ji Ming seemed very attuned to his gaze, immediately turning his head, “What’s wrong?”

Qiu Qiu was startled, and blurted out, “You spent money to bring me milk tea, didn’t you?”

Ji Ming pointed at himself with a grin: “Yeah, but I made this for you myself. I’m only charging you for the ingredients… By the way, did I not put enough sugar? You seem to like things sweeter, but I think too much sugar every day isn’t good.”

“…This is plenty.” Qiu Qiu looked down, finding it sweet enough.

“That’s good then. But our milk tea shop only has these flavors… Next week, I’ll bring you some from another shop.” Ji Ming thought aloud, “But I’ll be on shift next week, so I’ll get off work late. I’ll bring it to you before my shift at noon…”

“No need.” Qiu Qiu cut him off, eyes not meeting Ji Ming’s. “That’s too much trouble.”

Ji Ming stopped walking.

Qiu Qiu glanced left and right, pointedly avoiding Ji Ming’s gaze.

All week, he hadn’t properly refused this troublesome kindness. And when it came to Ji Ming, Qiu Qiu always felt… something was off, though he could sense that Ji Ming truly was a good person.

At least, when they were together, Qiu Qiu felt a rare sense of ease. Maybe it was because they’d gone through unusual things together, or maybe it was that Ji Ming’s features fit perfectly with his sense of aesthetics… Or perhaps it was because Ji Ming never contacted him by phone, so there was no risk of being monitored.

But.

Always letting someone bring him milk tea, and then refusing to pay… wasn’t this just like… that kind of relationship? It was too strange.

Ji Ming looked at Qiu Qiu. After a moment, he said, “Then, how about just occasionally?”

Something in his tone made Qiu Qiu freeze, and he nodded before he could stop himself.

Ji Ming rubbed his head and smiled, “That’s good.”

…That’s good?

Qiu Qiu felt the warmth of the hand on his head and thought about the complete set of books Ji Ming had given him for his birthday a couple of days ago. Although his parents had taken them away first, he could feel the thoughtfulness behind the gift.

When you haven’t known someone for long, whether they are sincere or not becomes more apparent.

Qiu Qiu vaguely understood, but all guesses remain just guesses until confirmed.

So he naturally asked, “Ji Ming-Ge, why are you so nice to me?”

Ji Ming paused.

Qiu Qiu looked up, staring into Ji Ming’s eyes.

Then he watched as Ji Ming averted his gaze and said, “I’m not particularly nice to you… Aren’t we friends? Besides, you’re several years younger than me, so it’s only right to look after you. Plus, I live alone, and if I ever get sick, I might need you to take care of me…”

He listed a bunch of reasons, but Qiu Qiu was left in a slightly dazed state.

Ji Ming stopped talking, and after a while, he sighed, “That’s just how I am. If you don’t like it, you can tell me.”

A straightforward yet subtle statement. It could be understood or brushed off as a joke.

Qiu Qiu got his answer, his gaze slowly shifting, feeling unexpectedly calm–he was inherently a sharp and “mind-reading” person, but adults are not like his classmates; most adults are better at concealing themselves, their eyes revealing nothing…

Qiu Qiu met Ji Ming’s gaze–better at concealing… revealing nothing…

“…”

Is it because some emotions can’t be hidden, or is Ji Ming not good at hiding himself?

…That gaze was really terrible.

Qiu Qiu’s calm shattered, and he stammered, “N-no… You’re a great person, I think you’re amazing, it’s easy to be around you… You don’t even know, Lin Chi… ah, the one you just saw, he’s really childish…”

He actually wanted to become a mature person like Ji Ming, feeling that becoming such a person would allow him to find… a way to resolve pain.

Not to escape, not to endure.

But to resolve.

People cannot avoid pain; living means experiencing pain, but one must find a way to resolve it… or counterbalance it with happiness…

Qiu Qiu stopped talking, then looked at Ji Ming, “Thank you.”

Ji Ming thought for a moment, “Is this a good person card?”

Qiu Qiu didn’t answer, instead showing a bright smile and then reaching out to pull Ji Ming along, “Some things shouldn’t be bought. Many times, they just get forgotten, so wait until it’s appropriate, or rather, needed, to buy them.”

Ji Ming let himself be pulled along, watching Qiu Qiu’s expression, “Alright.”

Indeed, from the first meeting, he felt that Qiu Qiu’s smile would be very beautiful.

The phone in his hand went dark again, Lin Chi looked at the reflection of his own face on the screen, feeling conflicted–

This isn’t just a matter of being gay! That person is Qiu Qiu’s cousin!

Qiu Qiu surely doesn’t know, right? Otherwise, how could he be so close to that cousin!

Indeed, he should remind him! After all, Qiu Qiu has helped him many times.

Lin Chi made up his mind, opened his phone, found Qiu Qiu’s avatar, and sent a message. After sending it, he stared at it for a while, then sent a few more messages.

…

The phone on the sofa vibrated slightly, and Qiu’s mother, passing through the living room, glanced over. She walked over and looked at the clock on the wall: Hasn’t Qiu Qiu come back yet?

But just as Qiu’s mother picked up the phone, the sound of the door opening came from the entrance.

Qiu’s mother immediately put down the phone, but before the door was pushed open, she glanced down and saw another new message coming in–

She widened her eyes slightly upon seeing it.

“Mom, I’m back.”

Qiu Qiu changed his shoes and walked into the house, looking up to see Qiu’s mother standing by the balcony, holding a clothes drying rod. She smiled, though in Qiu Qiu’s eyes, her smile seemed somewhat different from usual, “It’s a bit late today, but your sister hasn’t come back either. She usually comes home on Saturdays, but it’s almost dark now… Why don’t you call your sister?”

His sister hasn’t come back. Qiu Qiu paused, then saw his phone on the table. He picked it up and saw several messages from Lin Chi, with the screen showing the last one–[Lin Chi retracted a message]

Qiu Qiu paused again, then opened the messages, seeing that Lin Chi had sent several messages and then retracted them. He was a bit confused–what’s going on?

“What’s wrong?” Qiu’s mother suddenly spoke. Qiu Qiu looked up, wanting to say it was nothing, but was startled by Qiu’s mother’s somewhat heavy gaze.

Qiu Qiu didn’t understand, hesitatingly turned the phone screen towards Qiu’s mother, knowing she wanted to see, “Just a classmate sent a message but retracted it.”

Qiu’s mother’s eyes flickered, “Don’t worry about it, call your sister and ask if she’s not coming home this week.”

Qiu Qiu nodded, then found his sister’s number and dialed.

After a while, he frowned and put down the phone, “Sister didn’t answer.”

Qiu’s mother frowned, “Didn’t answer? She always has her phone with her, how could she not answer?”

Looking at the sky outside, Qiu’s mother thought for a moment, then decided to call the teacher to ask if her daughter was at school. Her daughter hadn’t come home for weeks because she was helping this teacher, but when the call connected, the teacher said–

“You said Qiu Xia took a leave of absence early Friday morning to go home?” Qiu’s mother’s voice rose, “She didn’t come home!”