Chapter 43: Love is a Complex Code, Riddled with a Hundred Bugs, Erroneously Transmitted, but Always Finds Its Way to the Intended Port

Jiang Huan dreamed of Duanmu Xuan.

He wore a red short jacket with traditional Chinese buttons and a hoodie, hiding his wolf tail beneath the hat. A glimpse of his slim waist revealed black, form-fitting armor that faintly outlined his abs, matching his black pants and accentuating his long legs. In his hand was a flute that gleamed with an icy light—it was his weapon, the Zhu He Dan Li Xuan Di . When he wasn’t fighting, he played it in the snowy mountains, the melody drifting far into the distance. But when battle called, the flute revealed its blade, slicing through iron like butter with swift precision. Seeing her, he reacted as if spotting a rare species—first with surprise, then leaping down the mountain, scattering wolves with the vibrations of his landing. With a flick of his sword sheath, he struck a wolf’s head, delivering a flying kick that sent one wolf crashing into another. When attacked from behind, he barely moved his blade, swiftly slashing a wolf’s throat and leaving it dead on the ground before its shadow dissolved into nothingness.

The snowstorm swept past her vision, and Jiang Huan instinctively drew closer to Duanmu Xuan. He cracked his neck, producing a slight popping sound. “I was sleeping peacefully until you woke me up. Where are you from? You’re not from Xindu, are you? People from there aren’t exactly welcomed here.”

No longer feeling cold or stiff, Jiang Huan met Duanmu Xuan’s gaze as he turned to fiddle with his flute. “There are quite a few beasts out tonight. I suggest you find shelter soon—the torches won’t last long in the wild.”

“It’s fine,” Jiang Huan replied naturally. She already knew where the snow cave was—the cheapest way to spend the night. Her goal was to explore the map and clear her mind, and she’d soon see Duanmu Xuan again in the snow cave.

In the freezing cold, if she chose to follow Duanmu Xuan, she could boost his affection while staying warm without needing a torch. But stubbornly, she didn’t say anything—Bai Jingchuan’s shadow lingered in her mind, and she regretted not coming with him.

“Jiang Huan’s affection for you +500.”

Relying on her memory of the map, Jiang Huan took a shortcut to the snow cave, where Duanmu Xuan was roasting chestnuts by the torch. Seeing her, he was surprised. “You followed me?”

Outside the cave, the wind howled like ghosts and wolves, adding to the eerie atmosphere. It was hard for Jiang Huan to explain—how had she arrived at Duanmu Xuan’s place so quickly without getting lost? She stayed silent, leaving the initiative to Duanmu Xuan, who simply pointed to the grass bed beside him. “Fine, you can stay.”

The snow cave in the snowy mountains provided temporary shelter for travelers, though it was easy to lose body heat at night. If this was Duanmu Xuan’s home, it was exceedingly simple, with only a grass bed and his flute. The snowy mountains weren’t entirely wild—there were many castle-like houses with thick walls and fireplaces, bustling during festivals. But Duanmu Xuan’s character was deliberately distant from humans. Legends about him spread because of his demon-slaying exploits—he was known as the “Red Phantom.” People believed seeing someone in red brought misfortune and avoided them. As Duanmu Xuan peeled a chestnut, its shell cracked with a crisp sound. “Haven’t eaten, have you? It’s hard to find food around here when you first arrive.”

Jiang Huan looked at the torch. “Why do you still need a torch? Aren’t you basically a walking furnace?”

Duanmu Xuan pointed to the chestnut. “Even if I’m hot, I can’t roast this thing.”

… His argumentative personality was still intact. She tried roasting a chestnut herself, tossing it into the fire, only to realize she had no idea how to retrieve it. Without expression, Duanmu Xuan reached into the flames, peeled the chestnut, and handed it to her. “So, you followed me because I’m handsome?”

Jiang Huan thought to herself: Nuwa’s graduation project ended up roasting chestnuts in the snowy mountains—she probably wouldn’t admit you were her creation.

“The snowy mountains aren’t a place for you. You’ll be mistaken for the Red Phantom.”

“You’re not actually a ghost. Change your clothes, and they’ll line up to see you—you’ll charm countless girls.”

“What’s the point? Perform chestnut roasting for them?”

… Still holding a grudge.

“Earlier, you deliberately delayed, waiting for me, right? Who are you?”

Jiang Huan didn’t respond. Duanmu Xuan suddenly leaned in close, causing the chestnut to fall and roll far away. Up close, he smelled faintly of roasted chestnuts. The sharpness and aggression of youth were etched on his face, as if he might kill her the next second. Seeing her unafraid, he glared back fiercely, but instead of intimidating her, he blushed slightly and retreated to his original position, letting the chestnuts burn. He stood up. “You sleep inside. I’ll go out.”

“Huh?”

“I don’t sleep with girls.”

Jiang Huan laughed, both amused and annoyed. “No, there are other snow caves. Don’t misunderstand.”

“It’s dangerous outside. Heavy monsters appear at this time.” He was serious. “I advise you not to go out now.”

“Heavy monsters” referred to large, single-entity beasts. Abandoned and filled with hatred, they often roamed at night. But even knowing this, Jiang Huan felt Duanmu Xuan was deliberately keeping her here—perhaps isolated and feared by the residents, he rarely encountered people to talk to…

Could it be that he wanted to watch over her?

Never mind, she decided to sleep. She lay down—surprisingly, the grass bed was quite comfortable…

From outside, a melodious flute tune drifted in. Soothed by the peaceful melody, her fatigue melted away, her thoughts wandering. The tune carried a hint of sadness but was deeply comforting, slowing her breathing. The snow cave was small, and she wasn’t far from Duanmu Xuan, so there was no risk of freezing to death. Strangely, she felt safe.

Sitting up, she could see his figure in the snow. Removing his hat, he revealed the elegant lines of his neck and shoulders. His slender back faced her, illuminated by the moonlight on the snow. With the torch extinguished, the cave unexpectedly felt like a home. A wave of emotion rose within her—he not only embodied the traits she had written for him but also possessed a purity and kindness she hadn’t anticipated. The northernmost region was cruel, even with protection from monsters, residents often perished from hunger and cold. Duanmu Xuan’s mission was to slay demons, and he had witnessed countless scenes of life and death. Yet, his emotions remained unfrozen, and he continued to guard the land covered in snow with unwavering purity.

After all, Duanmu Xuan’s core personality was still crafted by Jiang Huan: “Return to Bliss—Pure Goodness.”

“Stop looking at me.”

A voice came from outside the cave. Duanmu Xuan was initiating conversation.

“What?”

“You keep staring at me—I can’t focus on playing my flute.”

Caught in the act, Jiang Huan retorted stubbornly. “Then you can leave.”

“This is my home.”

“…” True, she was occupying his grass bed.

“But why are you watching over me?”

Jiang Huan waited for him to utter sweet, clichéd lines. His character was already set up; all he had to do was deliver a saccharine, cheesy declaration to hit her right in the feels.

“Fate dictates it.”

“Huh?”

“You’re a guest of the snowy mountains. Protecting you is my duty.”

Jiang Huan suddenly became animated. “No, friendship is mutual. Feelings require reciprocity—you can’t just protect me without considering your own happiness.”

“I’m merely ensuring the safety of the residents here.”

“That’s not true. You belong to yourself first.” Jiang Huan wasn’t sure if she was speaking to Duanmu Xuan or herself. “If your sole purpose is to fulfill others’ wishes, once those wishes are granted, what motivation will you have left? Do you really think the people need you so much that you’d willingly get hurt protecting them?”

Duanmu Xuan’s silhouette seemed lonely, as if she had struck a sore spot. The legend of the Red Phantom spread far and wide, with countless versions, but none portrayed him kindly. He was depicted as a lone star bringing calamity, cold and brutal. No matter what he did for the peace of the snowy mountains, he wasn’t seen as necessary.

When she awoke again, a freshly lit campfire burned beside her, but Duanmu Xuan was gone. Dawn was breaking. Jiang Huan got up, preparing to head to the Oasis Track. Her subconscious kept reminding her to complete tasks and earn as many coins and fragments as possible. Those fragments felt like… a mysterious calling.

The dream seemed about to end. Jiang Huan stood up and ran toward a distant rumble. Duanmu Xuan stood before a mechanical monster, reaching out to touch the now-useless scrap of metal, his expression calm. After the snowstorm cleared, clouds shimmered in the sky. Duanmu Xuan walked over, leaning in close once more to examine her. Jiang Huan’s nose tingled—this was the second time she had seen a male protagonist with a concrete image and storyline after Li Junzhu. While Li Bode was an incomplete model, Duanmu Xuan was exquisitely detailed, down to his pores, with emotions fully exposed. His perfection was breathtaking.

Seeing her blush, his gaze didn’t waver. “It’s not that I like you—I just need to remember everyone who comes from the snowy mountains, so I have to take a good look.”

“Is this part of your duty too?”

“…Yeah.”

Flashes of thought crossed Jiang Huan’s mind. She reached out with both hands, grabbing Duanmu Xuan’s face and squishing it, forcing him to look at her. “I have something to say to you.”

“Go ahead, but this greeting is quite impolite…”

“First and foremost, I am myself, and only then am I your companion. Though I care about you, I won’t sacrifice my life for you. Putting myself in your shoes, no friend would want you to get hurt for their sake. So, Duanmu Xuan, the snowy mountains are an extreme environment. Don’t hurt yourself recklessly for me.”

Duanmu Xuan’s face darkened. Suddenly, he grabbed her arm.

“Who are you?”

“What?”

“You know I’m not afraid of the cold, you know where I live, and you even know the location of the Golden Passage. Do you think I’ll let you off easily?”

Jiang Huan had no defense, taking a step back. The snow collapsed, and with a jolt, she opened her eyes, falling out of bed. The stiff neck reminded her she was back in reality.

What a vivid dream.

________________________________________

As soon as she arrived at the company, Jiang Huan excitedly rushed over to Bai Jingchuan. “Teacher Bai!”

Bai Jingchuan turned around, waiting for her to continue. He had reverted to his scrutinizing side—gentle for so long that she almost forgot he was her superior, the strict producer overseeing the project. Compared to her filtered imagination of Hugh Grant, Bai Jingchuan’s cold demeanor was intimidating.

He didn’t speak, only waiting for her to start. At this moment, Bai Jingchuan truly radiated his authentic self. All previous displays of initiative or reluctance had been performances; this was his true nature, luring her into expressing herself.

Her competitive spirit flared. “Nothing. By tomorrow, I’ll submit a new story to you. You exist to support me, right?”

“Of course.”

“If it’s well-written, I want a reward.”

Bai Jingchuan smiled. “Agreed.”

“Jiang Huan’s affection for you +1000.”

A die rested on Bai Jingchuan’s head, pressing a dent into his hair. “Li Bode, you’re such a good actor. How did you suddenly become so calm and composed? If I couldn’t monitor your physical indicators, I wouldn’t have noticed your anger. You didn’t seem this concerned when she wrote Yan Zhengyi, so why are you so tense about Duanmu Xuan?”

“She put so much effort into it.”

“That’s true. Duanmu Xuan is very handsome and charming, with a striking red color scheme that grabs attention.”

“Do you think she’ll like Duanmu Xuan?”

“Who knows? People change. What’s the point of seeing mature men all the time? Duanmu Xuan is lively, playful, and stubborn like drinking an iced Americano—refreshing, invigorating, and trendy. Hey, be gentle! You’re going to break the coffee grinder!”

In the office, Bai Jingchuan tightened the coffee grinder with a click, gripping the hand-cranked grinder firmly, grinding circles until sparks nearly flew.

“Li Bode, say something. Your gloomy face is scary. If you feel threatened, just rush over, hug her tightly, and say, ‘I need you,’ or kiss her forcefully. Isn’t that the most direct way to win her over?”

Bai Jingchuan remained silent, standing quietly at a distance. Jiang Huan typed furiously, thrilled by her earlier declaration: “First and foremost, I am myself, and only then am I your companion.” The type of girl Duanmu Xuan liked represented players who hadn’t yet seen themselves in the mirror—those who were disciplined but still harbored ambition. They were likened to pearls held in the mouth, brides wrapped in red veils, or pawns controlled delicately. They were meant to deliver decisive blows in stalemates, the first drumbeat piercing through clouds in a battlefield, or the perfect checkmate in chess that left the opponent with no moves left.

She wanted these girls to shine in the game, recognizing themselves as radiant beings worthy of admiration, just like Duanmu Xuan—destined to rise like the morning sun.

“Mission 3-2: Protect Jiang Huan’s encounter with the male lead, Duanmu Xuan, in her dream—Success. Level increased to Lv57. Rewards: 50,000 gold coins, 5 treasure chests.”

Bai Jingchuan hadn’t slept for two consecutive days and nights, returning from the snowy mountains without closing his eyes until he received Jiang Huan’s story via email. He sat calmly in front of the computer, time ticking away. After a long silence, Eros finally said, “Li Bode, you’re too pure-hearted. If you’re jealous, assert your dominance. If you like her, express it directly. If you sense a threat, take the initiative. This isn’t the time to be magnanimous.”

“This isn’t magnanimity.” Bai Jingchuan smiled. “I know I should feel urgency, pain, and secure ownership quickly, making her heart completely mine. But this is the moment she radiates vitality. She shouldn’t be confined to a conventional romantic template or belong solely to one person. If her brilliance only moves me, she becomes a specimen I admire—a beautiful butterfly trapped in a box, doomed to wither. I’d rather see her shine brightly, touching even those with hearts of stone—though I’m insanely jealous right now.”

“So assert your dominance, Li Bode! Pursue her! There are so many ways to increase affection!”

“Eros.”

“Yes?”

“As an AI governing love, your database is outdated. Stop giving me advice.”

“Huh?”

“As a character she created, I can’t possess her in such a domineering way. She has the freedom to create and dream. That’s her method of expression. I won’t suppress her creative passion or shake her resolve at this moment.”

The die fell silent for a long time before replying with a tinge of sadness. “Li Bode, you’ve only been in the real world for a short time, yet you’ve surpassed everyone else. If you’ve truly reached max level and no longer need the persona of being born for love, consider donating it. Abandoning it would be a waste…”

The moonlight chilled the office, and gray mist rose from the distant buildings, as if virtual illusions were connecting with reality. He could feel Jiang Huan’s growth. For an executor in Mowu City, the joy of meeting an equal was unparalleled. But a sense of unease enveloped him, as if danger he hadn’t foreseen lurked nearby.

For the rest of the day, Bai Jingchuan avoided speaking to Jiang Huan. When asked in the group chat, he only replied with a curt “Hmm.” He bypassed her to ask a junior copywriter for materials, deliberately leaving his water bottle on her desk without intending to retrieve it. Jiang Huan watched, wondering when he’d come back for it. Instead, Bai Jingchuan went downstairs and bought a cup of coffee, placing it on her desk with a silly face pattern facing her. During the meeting, when Jiang Huan mentioned that Duanmu Xuan was gaining momentum and was a rival to all male leads, Bai Jingchuan simply adjusted his glasses and said, “Not necessarily. According to the research report, cheerful younger male leads aren’t particularly popular right now.”

With that, the meeting ended.

Was Duanmu Xuan not enough of a rival? Jiang Huan gritted her teeth. Seeing Bai Jingchuan confidently chatting with Akira about art, seemingly unaffected by her, frustrated her. Why did writing about Duanmu Xuan bother him? Wasn’t she just doing her job?

But at her workstation, she felt restless, anxiety gnawing at her. She couldn’t write a single word. Finally enduring until the end of the workday, she checked nearby parks—she needed to breathe some fresh air. The central park had a newly installed tall slide, its surface marked by children’s footprints under the lights. Standing atop the 1.5-meter-high slide, she hesitated, lacking the mood to slide down.

“What’s so great about him? Just a producer putting work above everything, indifferent to his subordinates… Such a rough fate, unwilling to even glance at a talented and hardworking screenwriter like me. Tasteless…”

Two minutes of venting went unanswered until someone called her from the stairs below—it was Bai Jingchuan.

“Finally found you.”

“What do you want?”

“You’ve been complaining about me for so long, and now you’re blaming me?”

Seeing Bai Jingchuan, Jiang Huan felt a surge of委屈 (grievance) and jealousy. Climbing onto the slide, she declared, “I’m just here to play! This place is full of kids during the day, but now it’s finally my turn!” Her chest felt heavy with委屈 as she added, “I never got to play on slides as a kid. Now that no one’s here, I’m going to enjoy it…”

Bai Jingchuan climbed the stairs in a few strides, his tall frame blocking her path down the slide. “You have something on your mind.”

“What could I possibly have on my mind?”

“Then why are you avoiding me?”

With red-rimmed eyes, Jiang Huan grabbed the front of Bai Jingchuan’s shirt. Instinctively, he tried to pull away, gripping her wrist. His impeccably tailored suit was hard to hold onto, but Jiang Huan pulled him down anyway. Confused, Bai Jingchuan obediently let the girl grab him, her hands moving to his cheeks, ruffling his hair before releasing him and stepping back. His chest, crumpled by her fists, and his disheveled appearance made her realize—this was the pristine sheet of paper she had wrinkled.

Looking at the crumpled paper before her, she panicked. Originally clean and ready to be inscribed with countless unknown paragraphs and plots, it was now creased, perhaps even stained—all thanks to her. But she wanted to see Bai Jingchuan’s reaction. How would this indescribable feeling be decoded when conveyed to him?

Bai Jingchuan clutched his chest, suddenly furrowing his brows as if genuinely in pain. Slowly, he bent forward. Jiang Huan grew alarmed. Could it be that he was truly different from ordinary humans, experiencing chest pain whenever emotions were involved?

Leaning in too forcefully, her footing slipped, and she toppled onto Bai Jingchuan. Both of them tumbled, sliding uncontrollably down the long slide. Jiang Huan, headfirst, was cradled protectively in Bai Jingchuan’s arms. In five seconds, they slid into the grass. Bai Jingchuan gasped for breath, his suit open to reveal his shirt. The warmth of his body was palpable, and the heartbeat doctors couldn’t hear thudded clearly beneath her palm. A trace of triumph flickered in his eyes—he had intentionally pretended to have chest pain so she could feel the heartbeat hospitals couldn’t detect. Yet, he was equally confused, seeking to understand his own anguish reflected in her eyes.

She finally understood. What she urgently reached out to grasp was Bai Jingchuan’s love. In the real world, there was no standard guide, no clear steps to follow. Love was a complex code, riddled with bugs, transmitted erroneously, but always finding its way to the intended port. Out of habit, she ruined her life, her destructive tendencies running rampant. Arrogantly, she had crumpled the pristine sheet of paper before her. Yet, that paper had been waiting patiently for her to write and refine it. Even if it became scrap, its odd shapes and imperfections were her own handiwork. Now, this cunning masterpiece had gained a soul, capable of returning her incomprehensible emotions. Those strange, broken codes returned to her through unclear pathways. Though she couldn’t decipher the 0s and 1s, she could feel her heart racing.

This time, it definitely wasn’t because the slide was too fast.

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PS: Xiao Zhang is here! I’ll be in the comments tomorrow to hang out with everyone! Ahhh, thank you all for reading the novel these past few days!