Chapter Eight: Back to Reality
1816 Words
Liu Ruyan was awakened by the heat.
No, wait—it wasn’t the heat.
It was a tingling sensation spreading from deep within her lower abdomen, as if a hand were inside her, slowly and relentlessly massaging her.
She snapped her eyes open.
The ceiling was familiar: the crystal chandelier, the master bedroom—her own home.
She had kicked the comforter to the foot of the bed; her nightgown was crumpled into a ball and rolled up to her waist, and the inside of her thighs felt sticky.
Liu Ruyan froze for two seconds, then she felt it.
Her panties were soaked through.
Not just a little—they were soaked to the point where she could wring water out of them.
“……”
She closed her eyes and covered her face with her arms.
Her heart was pounding as if she were running.
The dream was too vivid. She could recall every detail clearly.
She was kneeling between his legs, his member in her mouth, her tongue curling upward against it. She could feel it throbbing inside her, hard and burning hot.
His hand rested on the top of her head, his fingers tangled in her hair. The pressure was neither too light nor too heavy, carrying a sense of control that made her whole body go weak.
She looked up at him, and he looked down at her.
But his face was blurry.
His features seemed obscured by a layer of fog; she couldn’t make them out no matter how hard she tried.
All she could remember were his hands—long fingers with prominent knuckles, and the intense heat radiating from his palms.
And his voice. Deep and hoarse, he spoke only three words.
“Get moving.”
Liu Ruyan’s body went limp again the moment the memory flooded back.
The tingling sensation in her lower abdomen intensified.
She pulled her hand away from her face and stared at the ceiling, her breathing still ragged after a long while.
“What’s wrong with me…”
She rolled over and buried her face in the pillow.
The pillow was cool, but her body was burning hot.
From her neck to her collarbone to her chest, she was burning. When her n*****s brushed against the sheets, she bit her lip.
She was too sensitive.
It was as if the tongue of that man from her dream were still there.
She remembered the sensation: his tongue circling, licking gently at first, then suddenly sucking hard, his lips clamped over her areola, sucking so hard it made her whole body arch.
Her lower back ached, and the crooks of her thighs ached, as if someone had spread them apart.
“I’ve been single for too long.”
Liu Ruyan yanked her face out from the pillow and sat up abruptly.
Her hair was a mess, the straps of her nightgown had slipped down her arms, and she looked utterly disheveled.
She glanced down at herself.
A large dark stain had spread across her underwear, clinging to her skin.
“……”
She took a deep breath, got out of bed, and walked barefoot into the bathroom.
She stripped off her nightgown and underwear and tossed them into the laundry basket, then turned on the shower.
Hot water poured down, trickling down her shoulders.
She stood under the stream of water with her eyes closed, her hands braced against the wall. Her mind was still replaying the scenes from her dream.
That man’s palm was cupped around her waist, his fingers digging into her hips as he pressed her against him.
Her legs were wrapped around his waist, her heels digging into his back, and she was crying out,
“Master.”
Liu Ruyan snapped her eyes open.
She stared at the tiles on the wall as water splashed across her face.
“This isn’t right…”
She frowned. She wasn’t that kind of person.
From childhood onward, she had always been the one in control—whether in her family, at the company, or in social circles. Everyone looked up to her.
No man had ever made her bow her head.
But in the dream, she was kneeling on the carpet, her face tilted upward, calling a man whose face she couldn’t see “Master.”
And she called him willingly.
It wasn’t forced; she wanted to call him that.
“I must be losing my mind.”
She turned off the shower, dried her hair with a towel, and wrapped herself in a bathrobe as she stepped out of the bathroom.
As she stood in front of the wardrobe picking out clothes, her hand paused. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of the nightstand. The drawer was half-open.
She remembered not opening that drawer before going to bed last night. She walked over and pulled it open.
A collar.
A black leather collar lay quietly inside, next to a pair of pink velvet handcuffs.
She stared at them for two seconds, then pushed the drawer shut.
She closed it a little too hard, and it made a dull thud.
......
Li Mo woke up because he had to pee.
He opened his eyes and saw the question-mark-shaped water stain on the ceiling.
The rented apartment, the hum of the air conditioner, the sound of traffic outside the window, the rough texture of the sheets.
It was all back.
He sat up, his mind still foggy, and looked down at himself.
He was still wearing the same pair of shorts from yesterday; the wound on his knee had scabbed over.
No mansion.
No silk sheets.
No Liu Ruyan.
He froze for a few seconds, then waved his hand in front of his face.
The blue interface popped up, but it was different from the one in the simulated world.
The interface was much darker, like the hazy gray screen of a phone running low on battery.
There was only one line of text on it.
[Cooling down...]
No progress bar, no countdown—nothing.
“Cooling down? How long will it take?”
The interface didn’t respond.
He tapped it twice with his finger; the panel flickered, but no new information appeared.
“Fine.”
Li Mo closed the panel, got up, and went to the bathroom.
Standing in front of the toilet, his mind began to race.
The simulation was real.
The replay was real.
Liu Ruyan was real.
No, Liu Ruyan was real, but the Liu Ruyan in the simulated world was created by the system.
The Liu Ruyan in reality should be in her own mansion right now, completely unaware that a penniless guy named Li Mo was thinking about her in a 20-square-meter rental apartment.
He flushed the toilet, walked over to the desk, and sat down.
On the desk lay the business card he’d pulled out of his pocket yesterday.
Liu Ruyan.
A name, a phone number.
He stared at the card for a minute.
Then he began to think.
The system had locked a bunch of functions in the simulated world.
He couldn’t go out, check the stock market, or look up lottery results; even having s*x was blocked by a blue pop-up window.
But some functions were enabled.
Life Replay was on, and Communications was on—though he only had Liu Ruyan as a contact.
What about those locked functions?
How did he unlock them?
He thought of that pop-up window.
[s****l Activity Function: Not Enabled]
How do I enable it?
If the system could conjure a simulated world out of thin air—one where he instantly became Liu Ruyan’s husband, complete with chat logs and wedding photos—then something as simple as “s*x” would be no challenge at all for the system.
It’s not that it can’t do it.
It’s that it won’t.
Why won’t it let him?
Li Mo tapped his fingers on the desk twice.
He recalled the events from the replay.
How had his simulation-world self climbed his way from a low-level employee to Liu Ruyan’s side?
Being chosen by HR for his good looks—that was his ticket in.
Being noticed and promoted by Liu Ruyan—that was the starting point of their relationship.
Carrying her on his back for seven kilometers in a downpour—that was the turning point.
That drunken phone call from the barbecue stall—he was just one step away from breaking through the final barrier in their relationship.
Every step represented the progression of his relationship with Liu Ruyan in the simulated world.
And the unlocking of the system’s features.
“Linked to reality.”
Li Mo’s fingers stopped.
He sat up straight, staring at the business card in front of him.
The system didn’t unlock features based on relationships in the simulated world.
If it did, he’d already be Liu Ruyan’s husband in the simulation—and s*x shouldn’t be locked.
That left only one possibility.
The unlock conditions were in reality.
His permission levels in the simulation depended on the actual progress of his relationship with Liu Ruyan in the real world.
What was his relationship with Liu Ruyan right now?
He’d hit her car, she hadn’t pressed charges, and she’d given him a business card—that was all.
It doesn’t even count as “acquaintance”; at best, he’s a “stranger she’s bumped into once on the street.”
So in the simulated world, while he has the “husband” identity shell, all core permissions are locked.
Because in reality, he has absolutely no relationship with Liu Ruyan.
“But what if…”
He picked up the business card.
“What if I took our relationship in real life one step further?”
Even if it was just inviting her for a cup of coffee. Even if it was just going from “stranger” to “acquaintance.”
Would the system unlock new features?
Li Mo’s heart began to race.
He pulled out his phone and opened his contacts. He hadn’t saved Liu Ruyan’s number yet.
He typed in the number from the business card, his finger hovering over the call button.
What would he say once he called?
“Hello, I’m the guy who hit your car yesterday. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?”
She’s the chairwoman of Xinghai Group.
Her grandfather was a former vice president.
Ask her out for coffee?
Li Mo put his phone down.
He leaned back in his chair, staring at the question-mark-shaped water stain on the ceiling.
He thought for a long time.
Then he flipped the business card over.
The back was blank.
He picked up the pen on the table and wrote a line on the back.
“Step One: Make her remember me.”
He drew a line under the words “remember.”
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