Chapter 86, Chapter Thirty-Three: The Fantasy Mansion
The new director's appearance and figure were so striking that he immediately became a hot topic of discussion within Green Forest.
At this moment, he stood at the entrance of Group Nine, and the employees passing by in the corridor couldn't help but glance at him.
Wen Ting hadn't expected him to come pick her up in person, so she quickly went out and left the office area with him.
The two entered the underground parking garage, and Gong Feibai opened the passenger door for her.
"Thank you." Wen Ting asked him, "Where are we going?"
“Prince’s Mansion Street”.
Are there any customers here?
“No,” the phoenix eyes in the rearview mirror glanced at the top of her head, “just us.”
Wen Ting gripped her handbag tightly, vaguely sensing that the atmosphere was unusual.
Gong Feibai went to a private restaurant outside the Prince's Mansion Street. Judging from the restaurant's environment and the waiters' attitude, this was not a cheap working meal.
This newly appointed director was far too young and far too mysterious. Wen Ting was still unsure of the purpose of the meal, but she didn't mind taking the opportunity to learn more about the other party.
“The courtyard is beautiful,” she began. “Do you often eat here?”
The other person responded with a half-smile, "Yes, it's close to my home."
He seemed to see right through her intentions and generously gave her more detailed information.
Wen Ting took a sip of tea. "What a coincidence, my brother-in-law also lives here."
She guessed that Gong Feibai probably didn't live in the kind of small, old alleyway house that her brother-in-law lived in, which was only 40 square meters.
“This place is actually quite nice to live in, and it’s close to the company.” Just then, the waiter brought over the dishes, and Gong Feibai raised his hand, gesturing for them to be placed on Wen Ting’s side. “Are you interested in moving here?”
"Would I like to be your neighbor?" Wen Ting smiled. "Of course I would, but my wallet won't allow it."
"I have a spare room, how about I rent it to you at a friendly price?"
What is the "friendship price"?
Gong Feibai picked up his chopsticks. "Four bedrooms and two living rooms, three thousand eight."
Wen Ting's eyes widened in surprise. "I thought you would be more generous and let me stay for free."
He chuckled, "Our friendship isn't that precious yet."
"That's wonderful. I like honest men." Wen Ting raised her glass. "To you."
They chatted on and off for a whole afternoon. After lunch, Gong Feibai drove her home. "Do you have time this weekend?"
"Work?" Wen Ting had eaten her fill and hadn't taken a nap, so she felt a little dizzy.
"Let's go to an art exhibition." Gong Feibai stopped at a red light. "If you don't want to work on the weekend, just treat it as going out for fun; if you don't want to go out with me..." "Just treat it as working with the boss?" Wen Ting added.
The green light came on, and the car crossed the line.
“Then I’ll give you the tickets and, from a leadership perspective, recommend that you go see it yourself.” Gong Feibai looked at the road ahead. “This exhibition is of high quality; it might be helpful to you.”
Wen Ting looked at the black gloves he was wearing on the steering wheel.
After a moment, she spoke: "Director, do you think highly of me?"
“That’s one reason,” Gong Feibai said, “The Green Forest Building is already visible from the intersection. Another reason is that I want to pursue you.”
"Why is that?" Wen Ting asked, puzzled. "We haven't spoken more than three times."
"Too fast?" He glanced at her again, looking at the area above her forehead. "If I had to give an explanation, it would be that I fell in love with you at first sight, Wen Ting."
As he spoke, he curved the corners of his mouth into a smile, seemingly trying to appear gentle and approachable, but Wen Ting felt that he was more likely amused by the phrase "love at first sight."
He seemed to find the reason himself quite funny.
"We've arrived." He sat in the car. "Do you need me to go up later, at a different time?"
Wen Ting got out of the car and said, "Oh dear, it would have been better if you had thought of this before inviting me to dinner."
She leaned against the car door, bent down, and smiled at Gong Feibai in the driver's seat, "Thank you for lunch, it was delicious, I really liked it."
"As for the art exhibition—" she brushed a stray hair behind her ear, "whether I'm free on weekends or not is always up to my boss."
She closed the car door, walked a short distance forward, turned back and pointed to her wrist at Gong Feibai.
Yes, she needed him to come up at a different time, later.
The man in the car smiled at her and watched her until she entered the elevator and left the parking lot.
I'm in an unbelievably good mood.
Wen Ting admitted that Gong Feibai was very capable as a man, but she didn't want to get involved with her boss. Even if he wasn't her boss, a relationship with someone from a very different social class would be a complete waste of time.
Knowing his motives were impure, she should have rejected him outright, but instead, she found herself looking forward to the art exhibition that weekend.
Because his attitude in recommending the art exhibition was very sincere?
Or perhaps it was because he was too young, and she needed to test the new leader's professional level through the art exhibition.
Like a downward torrent, from this point onward, Wen Ting's interactions with Gong Feibai began in every aspect, beyond her control and calls to stop.
She doesn't have much time for flirting with men, and he won't invite her out for drinks, drives, or other meaningless entertainment.
Gong Feibai would either seek her out to see exhibitions or attend lectures, or to meet with clients and industry leaders, and she was always given priority access to top-tier resources.
He was polite, handsome, and wealthy, and also very young. Being pursued by a guy so much younger than yourself is always a happy thing.
"Knock knock"
At 10 p.m., Wen Ting heard a knock on the door.
She looked up and saw Gong Feibai standing in the corridor through the glass wall of the office.
Their eyes met, and he pushed open the door, walked through the empty workstation, and came to Wen Ting's desk.
"Why aren't you off work yet?"
"Aren't you the same?" He had a wool coat draped over his arm, clearly having just come out of the office as well.
"I live nearby. What about you? Will you even have time to sleep if you go home at this hour?"
"It's okay, I'll stay in the lounge today."
Gong Baidie glanced at her screen and said, "Don't you have too much work?"
"Actually, I was quite free during the day," Wen Ting said helplessly. "When it was almost time to leave work, the modeler told me that there was a problem with one of the character models and hoped that I could help make some adjustments."
Gong Feibai frowned. "That's his technical problem, it has nothing to do with you. You're off work now, and your personal time after get off work shouldn't be taken up by work."
Wen Ting smiled and said, "Then, since I'm still working after get off work, please write a few good words for my performance review, boss."
Her nonchalant attitude made Gong Feibai sigh.
Wen Ting raised an eyebrow: "My subordinate is so diligent, why are you, the director, making that face?"
"The director has left work, and I'm just sighing as Gong Feibai." He said with regret and disappointment, "I was planning to ask you to go to a musical next week, but you're so busy, I couldn't bring myself to ask."
“You’ve already spoken up,” Wen Ting said, amused.
She glanced at the calendar. "Which day? I'll try to make it free."
Gong Feibai shook his head. "You need to sleep more than play."
"Oh dear, what day can't I sleep? This is your invitation. Just tell me the time, and I'll come."
“I’m serious, Wen Ting.” He turned to the side. “Tell me when you want to play. What you need right now is rest.”
“I really didn’t…” “This is the room key for the Morian Hotel. I have a room booked there long-term.” A silver-gray card was placed on the corner of Wen Ting’s table. “The bedding in the staff break room isn’t very hygienic. It’s too late today, and it’s not safe for you to go home. Go to the hotel to sleep. It’s a thirteen-minute walk away.”
Wen Ting was taken aback.
Gong Feibai nodded to her, "I'm leaving now, you should get some rest too."
He didn't offer to drive her home, nor did he forcefully tell her not to work overtime.
Wen Ting smiled. Putting aside the superficial material conditions, Gong Feibai had left a pretty good impression on her.
People will inevitably have some friction when they spend a lot of time together, but Gong Feibai is an exception.
He almost never said or did anything that displeased her. On the rare occasions when she expressed dissatisfaction, he would immediately realize what was happening and adjust his tone and demeanor accordingly.
Their chat history, the restaurants they visited, and their shared experiences grew, and with each interaction, Wen Ting mentally added points to his score.
One day, she suddenly had the idea that "it wouldn't be a bad idea to date the director."
This idea grew stronger and stronger, and it never disappeared.
With Gong Feibai around, going to work became a pleasant experience, a pleasure that became even more pronounced after seeing Cathy's increasingly unpleasant expression.
Wen Ting's life seemed to have never been so smooth. Every day after Gong Feibai appeared, she was happy and relaxed. Gradually, she was no longer so afraid of the strange heart-shaped gift box.
Counting the days, she has received 97 gift boxes, and so far there have been no side effects.
The dopamine injected by external forces is a bit strange, but it's essentially the same as ingesting caffeine. Wen Ting has gotten into the habit of opening a gift box every day before work to start her day in a good mood.
That day, she unusually left work on time.
Gong Feibai invited her to his house for dinner.
Home is a special place, and Wen Ting anticipated that their relationship would undergo a huge change after today.
"Please come in." After opening the door, Gong Feibai stepped aside. "No need to change your shoes."
"Thanks."
Stepping into this large, single-level apartment, which is just across the street from the Prince's Mansion, Wen Ting held her breath and looked around at the layout, a mixture of awe and anticipation.
This house was the starting point for Gong Feibai, but it was also a destination she might never reach in her entire life.
Gong Feibai observed her expression. "Is it alright?"
"It's so beautiful. The layout and decoration are both excellent." Wen Ting nodded. "Before I came, I thought it would be a villa."
He poured her a glass of water. "You like villas?"
“No,” Wen Ting smiled, “I like high-rises, like here.”
This was the second time Gong Feibai had heard Wen Ting say that she liked high-rise buildings.
When she first proposed to him, she seemed to say that she wouldn't accept someone from the first floor.
"Both upstairs and downstairs are empty." Gong Feibai sat down next to her. "It's only 1,800 now, want to rent it?"
"Our friendship level has increased by two thousand so quickly?" Wen Ting smiled. "Then I'll wait a little longer; maybe it can increase a bit more."
“You know perfectly well what I feel,” he sighed with a defeated laugh, “I will do anything you ask if you agree.”
Wen Ting paused for a moment.
This unusual reaction caused Gong Feibai's smile to fade. He glanced at Wen Ting's head, somewhat surprised.
"Director, I don't know." She no longer avoided the topic. "I don't know what your attitude is."
“I’ll be thirty in a few months, and I really don’t have the extra energy. I wouldn’t be a good playmate. With your qualifications, you should have someone better.”
Gong Feibai pondered, "You don't want a 'casual fling' relationship?"
"Yes, we work in the same company. After we're done 'playing around,' I'll feel a little awkward and embarrassed." Even though her feelings for Gong Feibai were growing stronger, Wen Ting still couldn't agree, considering her future career.
“Perfect timing, I wasn’t thinking of playing around with you anyway.” He interlaced his fingers and placed them on his stomach. “Wen Ting, we can go get our marriage certificate now.”
“…Hmm?” Wen Ting asked blankly.
“You’re worried about being at a disadvantage if the relationship breaks down,” Gong Feibai explained. “Marriage can solve that. There’s a cooling-off period for divorce; if you don’t agree, our relationship will never break down.”
Wen Ting's pupils contracted slightly. After a long silence, she slowly said, "No... that's not what I meant."
Forever? That sounds a bit scary.
She noticed that Gong Feibai raised his eyes, then glanced at the area above her forehead, and then showed a hint of surprise.
"Do you have any other concerns?" he asked, puzzled. "The benefits of marrying me are obvious. If you're worried about gossip, we can have a secret marriage. Even if the marriage is short-lived and we separate quickly, you can still get a large share of our joint property."
After he finished speaking, he paused for a moment, staring at Wen Ting's forehead, and added another condition: "Don't you like this house? I can transfer it to your name."
Wen Ting put down her water glass. "This is so tempting."
“But there’s something I’m curious about,” she said, looking at him. “What have you been looking at since we first met?”
She touched the top of her forehead, her eyes crinkling with a smile. "What, is there a favorability bar here?"
Gong Feibai blinked, as if he didn't understand what she was saying.
Wen Ting continued, "If there really were a favorability bar here, you would see that the favorability is dropping rapidly, right?"
They looked at each other.
After a while, Gong Feibai chuckled.
“Yes,” he said, abandoning his elegant and dignified posture, crossing his legs, propping his chin up, and blatantly staring at that spot, “I’ve been building up my favorability for almost a hundred days, how did it all drop so quickly? Did I offend you in some way? And how did you find out?”
Wen Ting's face darkened.
Just as I expected.
The gift box was too suggestive; the fact that a handsome young man in his early twenties was parachuted in as the art director of Green Forest was also unbelievably fantastical.
Even more bizarrely, this incredible director fell in love with her at first sight.
She should have realized something was wrong much earlier; otherwise, the otome game wouldn't have developed this kind of plot.
"If this really is a game, then I can't tell you either, otherwise you can revert to a previous save and I'll be completely defeated." She replied with a forced smile, "Please be merciful and spare this NPC."
Gong Feibai said with great interest, "Wouldn't it be great to be my leading lady? Marry me, and you'll have everything you want."
Wen Ting's smile faded. "I don't need it."
"Why? You love money the most, aren't my assets enough?" Gong Feibai conceded, "I'll give you the account number, you can fill in the numbers yourself."
Wen Ting lowered her eyes.
After a moment, she sighed deeply, "I love money more than anything—but all that money can't save your favorability rating. Don't you understand?"
After leaving Wanluo, Wenting never expressed her disgust so openly again.
She stood up and looked down at the man on the sofa. "No matter how high-spending a player you are, there's no chance of a happy ending with me. Please get out of my world as soon as possible."
"Are you sure you want this?" Gong Feibai asked regretfully. "Here, there's no overtime, no annoying bosses, and as the female lead, you'll rise through the ranks step by step. You won't have to squeeze into a rented apartment with others. The whole world revolves around you, and you won't even age or die."
"Why leave? Wouldn't it be better to live here forever?"
Such a life is indeed tempting, but Wen Ting remembers: "You are the player, the world revolves around you, not me."
"I will love you." He looked up at her, sincere and earnest. "Wen Ting, I am willing to marry you, have children with you, and spend my life with you."
Getting married, getting married, and getting married again!
Wen Ting rubbed her forehead, utterly annoyed. "I'm begging you, please let me leave."
He frowned slightly and tried to touch her hand. "The outside world is more terrifying than you imagine. You'll be very happy staying here."
Wen Ting quickly withdrew her hand before he could touch her. "For me, it's more terrifying to be in a world where individuals dominate everything."
“I won’t hurt you! I’ve never hurt you in all this time.” He seemed to remember something, and a hint of eagerness appeared in his eyes. He reached out and touched the coffee table. “Look, I’ve even prepared the ring. I’ve never just been playing around with you.”
Wen Ting frowned in annoyance and took two steps back.
Unable to reach an agreement through reasoning and with the situation at a standstill, Wen Ting walked straight towards the door and left on her own.
The heels clicked sharply on the tiles without hesitation or delay.
"...What did I do wrong to make you so unhappy?"
A hoarse voice came from behind: "If you think I'm not pretty enough, I can change."
She didn't stop and continued walking towards the door.
When they were only two steps from the door, the voice was barely audible, as if a mosquito had rung away, and they murmured something with difficulty:
"Don't go, please..."
He seemed to have never spoken in such a soft tone in his life; every word and every sound was trembling.
Wen Ting grabbed the doorknob.
"Wen Ting!"
"You'll regret this." The man's voice suddenly turned cold, enraged by his previous soft pleading, and immediately became sarcastic. "The outside world is far more terrifying than this."
Wen Ting pressed the handle, "To me, the world of marrying you is a terrifying disaster."
The door opened, and the surrounding scenery suddenly shattered like a mirror.
Kara—Kara—!
Cracks appeared like a spiderweb, and as the cracks spread to every corner, with a loud clang, the entire scene shattered, revealing the dark reality behind the illusion.
In the instant the scene shattered like glass, Wen Ting vaguely glimpsed Gong Feibai's reflection in the glass.
He sat on the sofa, staring at her with resentment, his eyes like cold stars.
She pushed the door open forcefully, and as the world crumbled, that distorted, resentful face quickly cracked and vanished.
A wave of dizziness washed over Wen Ting, carrying with it a flood of memories.
She pressed her temples, closed her eyes, and rested for a long time, slowly recalling her experiences from the ghost stories.
When I opened my eyes again, I saw the company's 12-story building in ruins.
She stood on the east side of the corridor, where an elevator was lit up at the west end, with a floor number "12" on it.
Apart from the elevator, the entire 12th floor is just steel and concrete; not even the glass windows remain.
The February night wind rushed in through the window, and Wen Ting staggered, feeling as if she were being blown around by the wind, giving her the illusion that she had experienced a typhoon indoors.
Where did such a strong wind come from?
She squinted and looked out the window. Outside, it was pitch black, with only a blurry, desolate moon illuminating the world.
The experience just now flashed through Wen Ting's mind. Was this the game he had prepared?
It is indeed very attractive. If I agree to marry him, I will probably be stuck in the ghost stories forever.
She should be thankful that his illusion completely erased her memory, making her forget who Gong Feibai was and the existence of Gong Baidie.
Braving the strong winds, Wen Ting walked towards the elevator.
The moment I stepped out, the ceiling suddenly slammed down like a mountain of rocks, making the floor tremble.
Wen Ting was startled and quickly moved aside.
After the tremors subsided, huge heart-shaped gift boxes fell to the ground, blocking the path to the elevator.
The moonlight was dim, barely illuminating the outline of the gift box.
Boxes of all sizes were piled up in the concrete building, and the ribbons on the gift boxes danced in the wind, like the wind blowing through the hills, causing grass and leaves to drift.
The scene was indescribably strange and shocking, and also indescribably lonely and desolate.
Wen Ting's gaze passed through the tall pile of gift boxes and pointed directly at the elevator at the end.
The memories and the weapons have all returned.
She tied up her hair, inserted the gun into her leather belt, found a slightly smaller gift box, grabbed its ribbon and tugged at it, then used her arms to push herself up.
Standing atop a heart-shaped gift box that was half her height, Wen Ting searched for her next foothold.
These gift boxes range in size from half a meter tall to nearly two meters tall, and there are about a hundred of them in total.
The paper box walls were very smooth and difficult to climb, and the ribbons were flying wildly in the wind, making them hard to catch.
Wen Ting flipped over the two boxes, when suddenly something nudged her lower back.
She broke out in a cold sweat, turned around abruptly, but there was no one behind her.
Further on, as she pulled herself up with the ribbon, her calves started to itch. Something touched her, startling her so much that she almost dropped it.
After turning the box over, Wen Ting leaned on her knees and took a couple of breaths.
A strand of her hair was pulled up and curled and twisted against the wind.
Wen Ting realized what these touches were all about, pulled her hair back, and continued forward.
A naive approach.
With his abilities, stopping her wouldn't be difficult at all. He could strip her clothes off, rape her, nail her limbs to death with steel nails, saw off her legs—he clearly has countless methods at his disposal. What is he still fantasizing about now?
How pitiful and pathetic.
Wen Ting traversed the dark and desolate hillside alone. Her progress was already slow, and she was further hindered by the strong winds and the occasional unexpected bumps and knocks.
When I had climbed a quarter of the way, a speech bubble suddenly appeared on my left.
A red bubble appeared in the world chat, like a chat interface, displaying four words:
[Open the gift]
Wen Ting glanced at it, but cautiously ignored it.
After a while, another bubble appeared below the first one:
You're tired, you need a gift.
She jumped off the box and moved forward one space.
Aren't you curious about what's inside the box?
Half a minute later, three more bubbles suddenly appeared:
[Open the gift][You need a gift][You like a gift]
It seemed to be provoked by Wen Ting's indifference, and excitedly bubbled up all over the screen:
[Open Open Open Open Open Open]
[Gift][Take a break, your hand is bleeding]
[This is a gift for you][Heart]
[Be careful of your legs][A gift will make you feel better]
[Gifts, gifts, gifts][Rest][[I will send you gifts every day]]
[The best gift][Inexpensive gift][You're tired, baby]
[Want to see the gift?][Open]
[Stop][Don't rush, I'll be waiting for you behind]
[Heart][Heart][Heart][Heart]
Her vision was filled with dark red text bubbles. Wen Ting drew her dagger and slashed through the heart that was blocking her view.
The countless hearts were cut open with a knife, but quickly came back together.
The bubbles and words obscured her vision, and she lost her footing, suddenly falling off the box.
"Hiss..." Wen Ting covered her ankle and gasped.
[You're injured!] A huge bubble appeared in the center of her vision, followed by new bubbles:
[Another ankle injury?][Heart][Heart][Heart]
Another ankle injury?
Wen Ting touched her stinging ankle and stood up, supporting herself against the side of the box.
My feet hurt a little when I stepped on the ground, but there was also a sense of familiarity.
She stared at the latest bubble, thinking of what Gong Baidie had said about her missing a part of her memory.
Wen Ting thought she shouldn't pay attention to the bubbles, but there might be some useful information in that memory, so she tentatively asked, "Have I been hurt before?"
She finally agreed to interact, and the bubble trembled with joy, immediately responding:
Yes, it's this ankle too.
"Was it injured while fleeing for your life, or did you break it because I disobeyed you?"
[Um...neither.]
Wen Ting walked slowly, supporting herself on the box. "How did you get hurt?"
[We got injured while playing games.]
This answer was as good as saying nothing; it's likely that she was injured while running away, or that he broke her arm.
That makes sense. Wen Ting asked, "Did you drive me to a mental breakdown, which is why I lost my memory?"
The bubble didn't answer, it just kept popping up with [gift], [heart], and [stop].
Wen Ting took it as his tacit agreement.
She considered herself quite strong and couldn't imagine what Gong Baidie had done to her that could cause her to break down and lose her memory.
Despite the pain, Wen Ting flipped over the last box and arrived at the elevator.
A huge red bubble blocked her way: [Are you going to go down?]
Wen Ting gasped, "You said it, I have no other choice."
[...]
[Did I offend you this time?]
This sentence was a bit abrupt, but Wen Ting understood that he wanted to ask her why her favorability rating had plummeted in the end.
"Well," she said, brushing aside her sweaty, tousled hair as she pressed the elevator button, "I'll tell you after I leave this awful place."
The alloy door opened, revealing a warm and steady light inside the elevator car.
The panel displays the time: 09:48 AM
She was delayed for four hours on the 12th floor.
Stepping into the elevator, Wen Ting pressed the button for the 1st floor.
The elevator doors closed, leaving the red bubbles floating in the night and the unopened heart-shaped gift box outside, forever remaining on this floor.
bite--
The elevator car descended and stopped on the 11th floor.
The dark, silent building was punctuated only by the faint green glow emanating from the safety signs.
Wen Ting did not go out immediately.
She roughly understood the rules of Gong Baidie's game, and she didn't know what awaited her at this level.
She rested by the elevator for a while, adjusted herself, and then left.
A familiar dizziness washed over her, and as she regained consciousness, Wen Ting found herself holding a wet towel in an old-fashioned farmhouse.
"Hehe, giggle..."
A chuckle came from in front of her, and Wen Ting was startled. She looked up and saw a disheveled man sitting on the kang (a heated brick bed), covered in dirt, his hands tied, and grinning foolishly at her.
"Love me!" A beautiful eye peeked out from his messy, tangled hair. He smiled sweetly at her, "Love me, you love me!"
-----------------------
Author's Note: [Heart][Heart][Heart][Heart]
Chapter 25: [The lock screen has changed to a half-body portrait drawn with colored pencils... Several pink hearts have been drawn on the blank background, along with Wen Ting herself. A simple sketch of Wen Ting, tiny as a flower, dangling from the end of her hair, clinging tightly to it, with a string of little hearts appearing beside her.]
Chapter 26: [Wen Ting raised an eyebrow and began drawing hearts incessantly, one after another… The smooth nails tickled him, and the hearts covering his hands, carrying this itch, seeped into his very bones, leaving him no choice but to surrender.]
[Heart][Heart][Heart][Heart]
Wen Ting: Did I hurt my foot while running for my life, or did you break it?
Gong Baidie: No, you kicked me so hard I sprained my ankle.
Wen Ting: Did you torment me to the point of mental breakdown because of my amnesia?
Gong Baidie: I want to scare you, but I'm afraid you'll really be frightened, so I erase your memory every time I have a nightmare.
Wen Ting: Can't you at least come up with a more plausible reason?
Gong Baidie: ...That's right, hehehehe, you guessed it! It was me who tormented you to the point of mental breakdown! Hahahahahaha!
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