Simulated Wife: She’s Now My Real Lover

Late June. Jiangcheng. Forty degrees Celsius. Li Mo was riding a shared bike, the sun baking his head until he felt dizzy. Suddenly, a semi-transparent blue box floated into his vision. [Start simulation?] Two options appeared below it: [Yes] and [No]. “What the hell…” Li Mo squinted, assuming he was hallucinating from the heat. He reached up to rub his eyes. In that moment, the bike wobbled. Bang. The shared bike slammed directly into the door of a black car parked by the roadside. Li Mo was thrown off the bike and rolled half a circle on the ground. A burning pain spread across his knee. He got up and looked. Rolls-Royce. His mind buzzed. It’s over. No way he could afford that. Forget compensation—even one wheel rim probably cost more than he could earn in a year. The rear door opened. A foot in a pair of black high heels stepped out first. Then a long, straight leg. A woman in a black suit got out of the car. Li Mo froze. Her hair was neatly pinned up, makeup flawless, her jawline sharp as if cut by a blade. Around thirty years old, carrying an aura he had never encountered this close in his life. Too beautiful. But now wasn’t the time to think about that. “Um… sorry. I’m really sorry.” Li Mo stood up, his knee still bleeding, legs a little shaky. “I—I’ll pay—” He stopped mid-sentence. Pay with what? There was only 2,300 yuan left in his bank account. The woman glanced at the scratch on the car door, then at Li Mo. “Are you hurt?” Li Mo didn’t react at first. “Huh?” “I asked if you’re injured,” she repeated calmly. “N-no, I’m fine.” Li Mo instinctively took a step back. “About the car, I’ll definitely compensate—” “It’s just a scratch,” the woman interrupted. “Don’t worry about it.” Li Mo opened his mouth, not knowing what to say. Just then, her phone rang. She answered, her tone shifting—polite, but familiar. “Uncle Zhou, hello… Yes, I just came from the airport… Right, my father asked me to congratulate the old leader on his promotion…” Li Mo stood there listening. Old leader. Promotion. My father. Every word told him the same thing. You and her live in completely different worlds. The woman hung up and took out a business card from her bag, handing it to him. “Your knee is still bleeding. Go get it treated,” she said. “If you feel bad about it, buy me a cup of coffee sometime.” Then she got back into the car. The door closed, and the Rolls-Royce drove away silently. Li Mo looked down at the business card. Only a name and a phone number. Liu Ruyan. He stood by the roadside holding the card, the sun shrinking his shadow into a small patch beneath him. Blood trickled down from his knee. “Out of my league,” he murmured. He stuffed the card into his pocket, picked up the bent shared bike, and limped away. … By the time he got back to his rented room, it was already evening. A twenty-square-meter studio apartment. One bed, one desk, one wardrobe, crammed full. Rent was 3,500 a month. Three months’ payment upfront—just paid last month. Li Mo sat on the edge of the bed, applying iodine to his wounded knee. The pain made him suck in a sharp breath. His phone screen lit up. A notification from a job-hunting app. Another rejection. He’d been applying for three months. His resume felt like it had sunk into the ocean without a trace. He tossed the phone aside and lay back on the bed, staring up. There was a water stain on the ceiling shaped like a question mark. The blue box appeared again. Semi-transparent, floating about twenty centimeters above his face. [Start simulation?] [Yes] [No] Li Mo stared at it for a few seconds. Earlier, he thought it was heatstroke hallucination. But now he wasn’t overheated. The air conditioner was on. His mind was clear. He reached out and tried touching the box. “Holy shit.” Li Mo sat up immediately. He stared at the blue panel and swiped his fingers across it. It actually responded. “What is this thing…” he muttered. Simulation. Simulate what? A simulated life? He thought about his current situation. 2,300 yuan in his bank account. No one looking at his resume. Next month’s rent looming again. His diploma had barely cooled in his hands and already felt like useless paper. Could things get any worse? Li Mo took a deep breath and tapped [Yes]. Instantly, every sound disappeared. The hum of the air conditioner—gone. The traffic outside the window—gone. The ceiling, the walls, the light… dimmed slowly, like someone was turning down the brightness of the world. The springiness of the mattress. The roughness of the bedsheets. The sting from the wound on his knee. All gone. Nothing remained. Pitch black. He didn’t know how long passed. Maybe a second. Maybe a year. Then a line of text appeared. [Simulation begins.] … Li Mo opened his eyes. Something was wrong. The ceiling was wrong. The ceiling in his rental room was white, cracked, stained. Now above him hung a crystal chandelier. He shot upright. A huge bed. At least two meters wide. Silk sheets. Down comforter. A pink remote control lay beside the pillow—no idea what it was for. The bedroom had to be at least sixty square meters. Outside the floor-to-ceiling windows, dawn hadn’t fully arrived yet. The outline of the city stretched across the distance. “Holy…” Li Mo pinched his thigh. It hurt. Not a dream. Right then, he felt movement beside him. He froze and slowly turned his head. Someone was there. Under the blanket, a person was lying next to him. Black hair spread across the pillow, half of a face visible. Li Mo’s heart skipped a beat. It was her. The woman from earlier that day. The woman who stepped out of the Rolls-Royce. Liu Ruyan. “Wait… this isn’t some kind of setup, right??” That was the first thought in Li Mo’s mind. He instinctively shifted toward the edge of the bed and almost fell off. The movement made some noise. The woman stirred. She turned over, squinting at him, her voice hoarse with sleep. “What are you doing… what time is it?” Li Mo opened his mouth, but no sound came out. She scooted closer, draping an arm over his waist, resting her face against his shoulder. “Mmm… husband, let’s sleep a bit longer…” Husband?? Li Mo’s eyes nearly popped out. He suddenly looked up and saw a photo hanging on the wall opposite the bed. A wedding photo. The man in the black suit was him. The woman in the white wedding dress was Liu Ruyan. Both of them smiling like the happiest couple alive. Li Mo felt his heart racing up into his throat. Is this real? He lowered his head and looked at the woman leaning against his shoulder. The blanket had slipped down slightly, revealing her bare shoulder and collarbone. Her skin was pale. In the hollow of her collarbone rested a thin chain leading up to— A leather collar. Black. A narrow band fastened around her neck. Li Mo’s breathing grew heavier. His body reacted faster than his mind. Liu Ruyan seemed to notice something. Without opening her eyes, her hand slid a little lower from his waist and touched it. She laughed softly. “So energetic this early in the morning.” Li Mo stiffened like a statue. Liu Ruyan finally opened her eyes and looked at him, a lazy smile in her gaze. “Alright, I need to go to work.” She sat up, the blanket sliding down completely. Li Mo’s eyes swept over her uncontrollably. Her figure was unfairly perfect. Liu Ruyan reached up and unclasped the collar around her neck, placing it casually on the bedside table. She glanced back at him. “Tonight when I get back, I’ll let you play the dog again.” Then she got out of bed, barefoot on the carpet, and walked toward the bathroom. Li Mo sat on the bed without moving. His heart pounded wildly in his chest. Only one thought remained in his mind. This life… was totally worth it.