Beichuan scanned the room and finally relaxed, realising that the outcome had not been as bad as expected.
He then approached Churong, trying to explain his earlier behaviour, admitting that his emotions had got the better of him. She stepped back coldly, stating that he owed her no explanation.
That response hit him hard. Grabbing her shoulder, he explained that although he might be only a bodyguard for now, he had no intention of staying one forever. He believed that one day he would be able to provide her with wealth and luxury.
From the side, Linghu quietly listened, catching every single word.
Beichuan continued, claiming that everything he had done had been for Churong. All his efforts were meant to make him shine in her eyes and to build a better future together.
She questioned him, asking whether it was truly all for her. Without hesitation he swore that it was, even saying that if he had been given the chance to treat the old man himself, he would have felt completely fulfilled.
Listening from a distance, Linghu could only scoff internally. To him it sounded like nothing more than a desperate obsession with power. Despite the earlier humiliation, Beichuan was still spinning everything, acting as though it had all been for Churong's sake.
However, Churong heard those very thoughts. In that instant everything became clear. What had seemed like heartfelt sincerity was nothing more than calculated manipulation. Without that realisation, she might truly have believed him.
Seeing this, Linghu's thoughts drifted elsewhere. If she chose to follow Beichuan and become part of his harem, that was her decision. After all, she had already wanted to end the engagement. In other words, he did not need to treat her like his wife.
The mere mention of the word wife triggered Churong. Beichuan noticed the shift in her expression and asked what was wrong.
Her demeanour turned cold as she reminded him of the wager. They had agreed that the loser would kneel publicly. There was no walking away from that.
Beichuan froze, unable to believe what she had just said.
Linghu mirrored the same shock, unable to understand why Churong was acting this way and suspecting that she was deliberately provoking him. Of course, she heard his thoughts. Inwardly he insisted that she stop looking at him and focus on Beichuan.
Because of this, she repeated the condition. The losers had to kneel.
Beichuan struggled to accept it, questioning whether she truly expected him to kneel before someone like Linghu.
Meanwhile Linghu began to feel as if fate itself were forcing the story back onto its original path, undoing all his efforts to avoid disaster. Without realising it, he tightened his grip on Kiwa's hand. She misread the gesture entirely, exactly as expected. She thought he still loved her.
Churong noticed immediately, her gaze sharpening, before she called Linghu over, stating that Beichuan had admitted defeat and asking how long it would take him to realise it, before everyone started making fun of him.
Interestingly enough, Beichuan thought Churong was doing this for him. He was convinced that she was not angry, and was only acting to protect his reputation, ensuring that he did not appear dishonourable in front of others. Grateful, he placed a hand on his chest and thanked her for preserving his dignity.
As usual, she realised a little too late that the man had misunderstood her intentions.
Turning to Linghu, Beichuan clarified that the kneeling was for Churong's sake, not for his.
As he began to lower himself, panic hit instantly. Linghu reacted without thinking, pulling Kiwa in front of him as a shield. There was no way he could allow the main protagonist to humiliate himself because of him. Surviving that would be impossible.
Kiwa unintentionally hit him on the chest, but he clutched it dramatically, pretended to have a stomach ache, and made a sudden dash for the bathroom.
Right then the system appeared, congratulating him for surviving yet another part of the story.
The word survived threw him off completely.
Before any answers came, reality itself distorted. The space around him twisted, and he was dragged into a void. When his vision cleared, he found himself lying on a bed. The system spoke again, informing him that he now had three full days to rest and prepare for the next mission.
Still disoriented, he drank some water and asked about his reward.
The system displayed the result. Two thousand three hundred and thirty-three points.
That number only fuelled his frustration. After everything he had gone through, the reward felt insultingly low. The system calmly explained that the scoring was fair and based on performance.
He understood that much, but another question mattered more. How many of these stories had to be completed before he could return to the real world?
The answer was far worse than expected. His death in reality, caused by a falling billboard, could only be reversed by purchasing a resurrection. The cost was displayed in points. The moment that number appeared, he exploded in frustration. At his current rate of earning, it would take thousands of completed stories to reach the total. Factoring in the three-day rest period between each one, the timeline became unbearable.
At that point, giving up started to sound more appealing than continuing. The system encouraged him to be persistent, explaining that better performance led to higher rewards. But the motivation was gone. He collapsed back onto the bed, declaring that he no longer even cared about going back.