Chapter 6
Just as the words were about to be spoken, the two geckos, seemingly possessed by magic, moved at the perfect moment.
Han Shu fled as if escaping, crawling under the dining table, hugging his knees, and glaring angrily at Wen Zhiyu, expressing his rejection through his actions. His eyes were filled with genuine shock and fear.
Seriously? Were you really scared by him?
Wen Zhiyu sighed silently, carefully walked around the area under the gecko, took a stack of books off the bookshelf, and placed them on the floor next to the dining table.
Han Shu immediately shrank back inside.
He turned the spine of the book around, raised his hands, and took a few steps back. "My name is Wen Zhiyu. This is my collection of short stories, which contains the author's detailed information."
Han Shu sniffed, reached out and pulled out the top book, then pulled it back.
The book is neither too thin nor too thick, with a pure black cover, a gold-embossed calla lily in the lower right corner, and three large gold-embossed characters in vertical lettering in the upper right corner—"Goodnight Collection." As he said, the author's biography is located inside the cover.
First line —
Wen Zhiyu, a surrealist writer.
Surrealism*.
She turned two pages and landed on the first chapter.
The first sentence—
His blood vessels turned transparent. Thirty years after his birth, he finally discovered that three different colored liquids flowed in his veins.
Han Shu: ?
Wen Zhiyu noticed her blank stare and said, "In conclusion, I'm a writer, I don't eat people's brains."
"..." Han Shu asked weakly, "Then you said you collect brains?"
"Brainstorming, inspiration, and thinking—that's all called brainpower. Not pig brains for hotpot." Wen Zhiyu wasn't a cheerful person, but at this moment, he was so angry he almost laughed.
Han Shu finally felt ashamed and guilty for his bizarre guess, so he turned his head in another direction and happened to see the rolling pin lying on the ground. "You...you're not a pervert, why are you carrying a stick! Who knows if you have other bad intentions!"
"I did it for self-defense."
Han Shu's eyes widened in disbelief. "Defend against what? Against me?"
“Of course,” Wen Zhiyu said. “You always glare at me with that threatening look, trying to find out about my finances, saying you’ll stay a long time, that you’ll poke my eyes with a fork, and you even make ‘goose-goose-goose’ laughter. Shouldn’t I be afraid?”
Han Shu: ...
This is insane! This is insane!
Is this reasonable?!
Han Shu roared in fury, "Did I say you live in a villa and are rich just to probe your financial situation? I'll be living there until the typhoon ends, which is still a long time away, isn't it? I stabbed someone in the eye with the fork to answer your question, didn't I? I'm laughing... I'm laughing..."
Wen Zhiyu's handsome face remained as indifferent as ever, but Han Shu inexplicably felt that he was like a cat with its tail raised, swaggering and domineering.
Oh.
She exclaimed, "I'm laughing at your thick, European-style lips!"
"Huh?" Wen Zhiyu was stunned.
Han Shu raised his chin and glanced at him, "You're a scary person, but you're pretty good at vaulting."
Wen Zhiyu: "..."
Once the bouncy pole was brought out, all his arrogance vanished.
One person's shame grew and grew until it became two people's shame.
After a moment, the man scratched his chin, trying to break the awkward silence, "So, the misunderstanding is cleared up, right?"
Han Shu threw the book back, hugged her knees, huddled in a corner, and remained silent. She was extremely annoyed, her thoughts were in turmoil, and most importantly, she didn't want to deal with those two terrifying creatures.
This tricky situation was too difficult for Wen Zhiyu, who had limited social skills. He chose to take out his phone and dial Qin Jianling's number.
"So what if he's a great writer?"
“My guest, she—”
Qin Jianling could no longer contain herself. "I know she's strange, but it's still a bit difficult for a little girl to kill you, okay?!"
In response to his sarcasm, Wen Zhiyu said in a flat tone, "I need you to explain this to her over the phone."
"Explain what?"
“Explanation—” Wen Zhiyu paused for a moment, “I don’t eat human brains.”
"……ha?"
When Han Shu received the phone, the laughter on the other end was so loud it could have blown the roof off.
"Hahahaha, girl, Wen Zhiyu is right, you are indeed just as strange as him, hahahaha!"
Han Shu felt a burning sensation from her neck to her cheeks to her ears. At least the two of them wouldn't laugh at each other for their shared shame, but it was different for onlookers.
She chose to remain silent, like an ostrich burying its head in the sand.
After laughing enough, Qin Jianling said, "Don't be afraid, girl. He's just a simple homebody writer. He might have some mental issues, but he definitely doesn't have any bad intentions."
"Cough!" Wen Zhiyu warned, as he was wielding a broom and outwitting the gecko.
Qin Jianling changed the subject, "By the way, young lady, how did you find that place, which is so remote?"
She twitched her ears, and for some reason, the voice on the other end seemed somewhat familiar. Perhaps gentle male voices all sound similar.
"The hotels were all full, I found this place by chance," Han Shu replied softly.
"It must have been tough for you all alone during the typhoon," Qin Jianling comforted gently. "Just stay here peacefully for the next few days. Don't answer any of his questions. Just get some rest."
A stranger, through an unfamiliar phone, offered Han Shu the simplest and most needed greetings and care she had received in days. Her nose tingled, and she said thank you in a muffled voice.
Such a humane agent has to serve such a heartless writer. Han Shu felt a deep sense of pity for him, while at the same time feeling a deep sense of disgust for Wen Zhiyu.
She glanced disdainfully at the inhuman man, just in time to see the gecko land after being attacked, and the man, with a frown, helplessly retreating while waving a broom.
—The way he looked scared was much more human than when he was expressionless.
Wen Zhiyu fought alone for fifteen minutes and finally managed to subdue the two dangerous individuals using a trash can. He threw down the broom and leaned on the edge of the table, panting.
Han Shu poked his head out from the other side of the table. "Gecko, what are you planning to do with it?"
"Beneficial insects, throw them out and release them."
Han Shu's gaze drifted to the window, then quickly returned, and he murmured, "Throwing him out now seems like... it might be execution."
The plants in the yard all resembled bent bows. Wen Zhiyu seemed to agree with the idea of killing it, so he asked the mushroom-headed man, "You want to keep it?"
Han Shu shook his head. "We'll raise them."
Wen Zhiyu: ...
"Us? Where did 'us' come from? This mushroom head is really weird!"
Han Shu got up, staggering several times before regaining his balance because his legs were numb. "Um... could we just keep them for a few days? I'll leave after the typhoon ends, and they'll leave too."
"Aren't you scared?" Wen Zhiyu frowned. "How will you raise it?"
Han Shu looked around. "Do you have any unwanted cardboard boxes? Put them in and cut a hole in them?"
Ten minutes later, Wen Zhiyu sat on the sofa, questioning the meaning of life.
In front of him, on the $18,000 Moggolo coffee table, lay a cardboard box, one corner soaked, which should have been thrown into the recycling bin in the villa area. Inside the box were two creatures that sent chills down his spine. The mushroom-headed creature, which had just been running away in fear, was now crouching beside the coffee table, peering into the box through a one-centimeter-wide ventilation hole.
That's strange, so very strange.
"Should we feed them?" the mushroom-headed man asked.
Wen Zhiyu was speechless. "Are they pets?"
Han Shu was about to retort, but seeing his displeased expression, he shrank back and didn't dare to speak.
Mr. Problem crossed his legs, one arm resting on the sofa armrest, his slender fingers tapping absently. His eyes appeared slightly upturned due to his lowered eyelids, and a shadow fell across his sharp brow bone.
Oh.
She will no longer be deceived by appearances.
Han Shu continued to pretend to be intently observing the gecko, hoping that the big shot would leave first. Now that the misunderstanding was cleared up, the embarrassment was still there, but more importantly, she could finally relax and prepare a delicious lunch.
I ate the milk and oatmeal just now purely to fill my stomach; I haven't finished it yet.
But why does he show no intention of leaving?
"Is your relationship with your husband the same kind of dynamic as when you're with me?" Wen Zhiyu asked abruptly.
Han Shu was shocked and exclaimed, "Who's with you?!"
Her public persona is that of a married woman!
"I'm sorry." Wen Zhiyu pressed her temples, adjusting her words. "What I mean is, does your husband know about your... peculiar way of thinking?"
"I know," Han Shu pouted. "He doesn't like it. He thinks I'm unrealistic and don't want to settle down. He won't even let me learn to skateboard. He thinks I'm not like a woman."
Wen Zhiyu looked bewildered. "What does skateboarding have to do with gender?"
"Yes... If you can figure out such a strange thing, why can't he?"
"..." Wen Zhiyu was momentarily unsure whether he was being praised or scolded. "So, have you learned to skateboard?"
Han Shu smiled and said, "No, I can't argue with him."
The mushroom-headed woman sat with her knees drawn up to her chest by the coffee table, only half her face visible beneath her chestnut-brown hair, making her bright red almond-shaped eyes even more striking. She seemed quite upset when her husband was mentioned.
Wen Zhiyu withdrew his gaze.
Ugh, what a hassle.
Running a bed and breakfast is troublesome, this guest is troublesome, everything is troublesome.
The next second, he looked over again and saw the mushroom-headed man's tightly pursed lips, looking both aggrieved and stubborn.
He looked away again.
Ugh, this is such a hassle.
Fortunately, guesthouses don't allow stays of more than seven days; if it were a long-term rental, I don't know how much trouble it would cause.
Wen Zhiyu felt inexplicably annoyed, but her gaze couldn't help but drift over again. Today, she was wearing a light blue shirt and denim wide-leg pants, the only color in her black, white, and gray home.
It was so bright that he was about to turn his head away in disgust when he caught a glimpse of deep red.
trouble! ! !
Han Shu was lost in her thoughts when a gust of wind suddenly swept past her. She turned around and saw Wen Zhiyu striding away, looking furious.
baffling.
She sighed and poked the cardboard box. "Are you two a couple? Or partners? Mother and daughter?"
The gecko naturally wouldn't answer.
The people who disliked her whimsical ideas weren't her non-existent husband, but rather her parents.
Han Shu, who had been looking forward to eating, now had no appetite at all and didn't want to move a single finger. So he just sat there quietly, letting his thoughts wander.
The wind that had left has blown back.
"Bang!"
Han Shu jumped in fright, looked up, and saw a bottle of iodine and a bag of cotton swabs on the coffee table in front of him. Looking up, he saw a man with one hand in his pocket, his profile tense.
"Where did you take that pole off? Put it back on right now," Wen Zhiyu said irritably.
After saying that, he turned and left.
Han Shu picked up the medicine bottle with a puzzled look; it was indeed iodine solution. Upon closer inspection, it wasn't expired.
What does that mean? Is it for her? Why give it to her?
Suddenly, Han Shu remembered something. Looking down, she noticed that her trousers had rolled up from hugging her knees, revealing her ankles and a three- or four-centimeter-long, inflamed wound on them.
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